IDS DOVE DALE REVISITED 



Hatton, who has just published a bright little 

 book entitled "Cigarette Papers" (Treherne), 

 in which he says, prettily enough : "Tom Moore 

 lived a lonely but happy life on the banks of 

 the Dove near Ashbourne. He set the music 

 of the local bells to immortal verse." 



At the present writing I know not, any more 

 than you, what each day may bring forth, but I 

 propose to jot down day by day whatever little 

 incidents may seem to have any, even very 

 trifling, interest, for one's life is made up of 

 little things. I shall have, I fear, much to say 

 about the weather. 



Tuesday, September 3oth. I arrived here 

 in very discouraging weather a persistent east 

 wind, frequent sudden showers. 



I strolled down in the evening to take a first 

 glance at the river at the bottom of the meadow 

 which adjoins the house. There is the iden- 

 tical pool overhung seemingly by the identical 

 branch on which it seems but yesterday that 

 I left my cast and fly. A leatherbat more 

 venturesome than the trout was attracted by 

 the barbed betrayer swinging in the wind, had 

 seized it, and I found him next morning with 

 the fly still in his mouth, floating dead on the 



