The Angler. 59 



the down, and push your way through one of those 

 extensive nutwoods which grow on the hills, acres 

 and acres of hazel bushes, suddenly you come to 

 the edge of a steep cliff, falling all but perpendicu- 

 larly, and lo ! at the foot is a winding river, bordered 

 by broad green meads dotted with roan-and-white 

 cattle. 



Here in the season the angler may be seen skil- 

 fully tempting the speckled trout. Across the meads 

 a grove of elm and oak, and the dull red of old houses 

 dimly seen between, and the low dark crenellated 

 tower of a village church. Behind the downs rise 

 again, their slopes in spring a mass of color green 

 corn, squares of bright yellow mustard, bright crim- 

 son trifoliuin, and brown fallows. 



