LONDON ANGLER'S BOOK, 



And when he got to Leatherhead, 

 He was so tir'd he swore and said, 

 He was more fit to go to bed, 

 Than go to fish that morning. 



13. 



Charley, who sings "My village fair/' 

 Or helps to chaunt " Begone dull care,' 

 But now he'll not find Mary there, 



At Leatherhead in the morning. 

 In peace he takes so much delight, 

 He ne'er was known to snarl or fight, 

 Content if he can get a bite, 



While fishing in the morning. 



14. 



They fish'd till they could see no more, 

 And caught of Trout and Dace a store, 

 But all were tir'd when they gave o'er, 



And as hungry as in the morning. 

 And when returned at eve to dine, 

 Not one among them did decline, 

 But all declared it was as fine, 



As the breakfast there that morning. 



