LONDON ANGLER'S BOOK, 



5. 



They melted the tea-spoons for plummets, 

 And cut the lead windows for shot, 

 And on Saturday night about seven, 

 They every thing ready had got. 

 They merrily trudged till near Enfield, 

 There laid in a stack for a snore, 

 By sleep very soon overtaken, 

 They woke not till very near four. 

 Some people, &c. 



6. 



The river was reached they got ready, 

 Each picked for himself a prime nook, 

 But the very first swim, Barney Bream 

 Cried, blow me I've lost my gut book. 

 Richard got fast to a bramble, 

 And Daniel got hold of a post, 

 But to crown their misfortunes and crosses, 

 Discovered their grub was all lost. 

 Some people, &c. 



7. 



By hunger and thirst overtaken, 

 They studied what was to be done, 

 When Richaid thought of the hay stack, 

 And called out as sure as a gun, 



