168 A YEAR OF liberty; or, 



on the move, proceeding to favourite points ; but we looked in vain 

 for our man, Tom Nameless. " Where on earth can that fellow be ?" 

 The point at which we struck the stream was the upper bridge, 

 where, moored about five-and-twenty yards above the arches, was a 



well-known Saxon professor, Mr. G , who, as we came up, struck 



at a fish, whose keenness said plainly, " Wait an instant, and I'll be 

 at you again," and so it proved, for the next time the flies curved 

 over him Mr. Salmon showed himself a man of his word. If we 

 were early, our friend was still more matutinal ; at any rate this 

 could only be number one, but that was bad enough ; for in the 

 year one, a man killing a fish in my sight became an enemy for life. 

 Judge, therefore, of the state of my feelings when, looking over the 

 parapet, four silvery creatures, laying side by side, were visible in 

 that cot. Had I seen Mr. Tom about to be hanged by mistake, I 

 think I should not have stepped forward to save him. All down the 

 river rods were bending double. 



" Oh, Tom, you incomprehensible scoundrel, what has become of 

 you ?" 



" Don't you know master, that it's Monday ?" 



To a well-conditioned man the second morning of the week should 

 offer no greater inducement for breach of faith than the third ; but, 

 Tom was a teetotaller, and between mass and midnight were many 

 long hours, which that gentleman employed in sipping an abomina- 

 tion called " cordial." From the name, it should have been a mild 

 and wholesome fluid, composed, perhaps, of water, sugar, ginger, 

 saffron, and the like ; but then it sadly disagreed with Tom's getting 

 up, nor did it improve his health or personal appearance, for when 

 at last he did arrive, an hour or so behind time, it was with white 

 cheek, blue nose, and steps anything but straight and regular. The 

 forty minutes spent on that bridge seemed like an age, and each 

 fresh fish captured was a new wrong received from the hands of Mr. 

 Nameless. In a mood by no means amiable I commenced casting 

 from the quay, and in the hour and a quarter which elapsed before 

 the tide drove us home, Willie gaffed for his master seven as fine 

 fish as need be. Somewhat mollified by good fortune, it was with 



