THE RIVER-SIDE. 35 



perseverest. Keep up heart, my boy, and don't get 

 into ill-humour with thy flies ; they are as pretty 

 Limericks as I ever set eyes upon, and well barbed 

 to boot. Only, when thou takest in a good trout, 

 keep a hand from the line, and allow the rod itself 

 to do the office, otherwise the fish and you must 

 part company. Here comes one of our fraternity 

 honest Jack Leister, or I mistake a worthy 

 angler as ever breathed, and a salmon on his 

 shoulders. Well, Jack, where got ye that fish? 



Enter LEISTER. 



Leister. In the cauldron pool, immediately under the 

 large cradle-shaped stone, where one who can manage 

 his fly nicely, may raise a fellow almost every day of 

 the year, when the water is in humour. But how, 

 Otter, are you and May-fly engaged at catching minnows, 

 and such a prime breeze on the river ? Look you, there 

 is an old, wily trout feeding below yonder bank; my fly 

 is a salmon one, and would only frighten the rascal; a 

 grey midge were his surest poison he would suck it 

 in eagerly, I warrant you. Lend me your rod, Bill; 

 this red professor will do the deed notwithstanding. 

 Now I have him fast ! He is a fox of a fish, and 

 would take himself into cover among the ash roots. 

 See how lie pushes towards the bottom with his strong, 

 subtle snout, and attempts to saw through his fet- 

 ters. I must use my bit more powerfully, although 

 at the risk of losing him. Ha! he feels the barb, 



