1 20 WA TERSIDE SKETCHES. 



Athelstan had had dealings with Otley, and I asked him if he 

 knew whether that eminent Saxon king tied his own flies. 

 The philosopher at first, I fear, suspected me of trying to 

 get a rise out of him, but after a pause meekly informed me 

 that he had perused most of the ancient documents con- 

 cerning that part of the Riding, but had observed nothing 

 that would throw a light upon that subject. I am not sure 

 to this moment whether the patient antiquarian said this in 

 humble innocence or as a covert rebuke. 



A short distance out of the town stands a cliff called the 

 Chevin, and this, as readers of old-fashioned angling books 

 know, with a trifling difference in the spelling, is also the 

 name of a certain fish. 



" The Chevin/' said the rev. gentleman, " used to 

 pre'sent "- 



" Ah ! talking of chub," I remarked, " do you ever find 

 any in the Wharfe ?" 



Then the archaeologist who, by the way, was not the 

 genial informant whom \ve are always glad to meet and 

 grateful to hear, but somewhat of a bore given to 

 conceit gave up the angler as a bad investment, and 

 shuffled behind him. It did so unfortunately happen that 

 just then the latter was on the point of casting his flies 

 upon the stream, and somehow or other the archaeologist 

 managed to receive the dropper in the rim of his wide- 

 awake ; indeed, it might as well be confessed that another 

 inch and the evening's sport would have included an ar- 

 chaeologist's ear. The worthy man, however, insisted upon 

 accompanying me, saw me to my chamber door at night, 

 and was waiting at the bottom of the stairs on my appear- 

 ance in the morning. The grayling of Otley were no doubt 



