LINE-FISHING. 31 



him to give me his address and permission to call 

 upon him. He consented readily, thanking me for 

 my politeness, and a few days afterwards, having got 

 over my lecture on French literature at Fordham 

 College in good time, I set off on foot to hunt up 

 my disciple of Isaak Walton. 



Dan lived in a pretty cottage at the further end of 

 the village of Haarlem. His house, which consisted 

 of two large rooms, was situated in the midst of a 

 garden, the beds of which contained a mixture of the 

 useful and the agreeable, — vegetables mingled with 

 flowers. A large honeysuckle adorned the front of 

 the cottage, and the sides were covered with ivy 

 and climbing roses. 



The front room of the cottage was simply fur- 

 nished, but with a degree of taste that might well 

 have passed for luxury. Over the old-fashioned 

 chimney, which was large enough to shelter a regi- 

 ment of friends, the old soldier had arranged a 

 trophy of muskets belonging to Washington's time, 

 — sabres, swords, Indian tomahawks, and bows 

 and arrows, the whole surmounted by one of the 

 head-dresses worn by the Red Skins, made of otter's 

 fur and adorned with eagle's feathers. On a kind of 

 pedestal surrounded by palm-leaves stood a plaster 

 statue of Washington, simple and dignified, on the 

 brow of which Dan had placed a crown of immortelles. 

 On the whitewashed walls, and in maple frames, 

 were strange lithographs of rude drawing and homely 



