CHAPTER IV. 



ROOM IN THE INN. 

 MAY-FLY, SWIVELTOP, GAFF, and HACKLE. 



Swivel. 'Tis a craze, Bill, a very craze, this out-of- 

 door humour of Otter's and Jack Leister. I abhor 

 night angling ! 'Tis a chill, comfortless business, 

 suited to savage likings and the blood of brutes. How 

 much more befitting is it, and congenial to our natures, 

 to mete out the evening together in social converse, 

 coloured and improved by the influences of the circling 

 toddy jug ! 



May. As you say, Doctor. I envy not, nor yet 

 greatly compassionate them ; they will capture only an 

 ague-touch or dew-fever. No trout itself would venture 

 abroad at hours so unseasonable as this ! 'Tis a craze 

 altogether, as you say. 



Swivel. Ay ! Bill, truly so. Fill up your glasses, 

 iny boys there is no peril in this good liquor ! I 



