FAREWELL FEAST OF ANGLING CLUB. 211 



Due honours having been paid to Doctor Swivel- 

 top and Mr. May-fly for this joint effusion, the latter 

 gentleman thought it proper to fatigue the fraternity 

 with a tedious, semi-political address in the course 

 of which, after acknowledging the complimentary 

 civilities conferred on himself and his illustrious 

 friend, he launched forth into a detail of his own 

 wonderful feats as an angler, whereby it appeared 

 that he had beaten hollow the powers of warlockry 

 in unfolding the secrets of certain lochs and rivers, 

 the finny inhabitants of which had, without doubt, 

 established a subterraneous communication with the 

 great lakes of North America, such was their power, 

 speed, voracity, and amplitude. Previous, however, 

 to the delivery of this rhapsodical oration by the 

 somewhat elevated member, our friend Jack Leister 

 volunteered the following song : 



[LEISTER sings.] 

 bvttzt is on tht 



i. 



The breeze is on the Heron-lake ! 



The May-sun shineth clear ! 

 Away we bound through the broomy brake, 



With our wands and angling gear. 



ii. 

 The birch-wreath o'er the water-edge 



Scatters sweet flies about, 

 And rouud his haunt of sighing sedge 



Bells up the yellow trout. 



