50 LONDON ANGLER'S BOOK, 



THE TENCH. 



SONG. TIMOTHY TENCH. 



(TuNE.) " Miss Worgman's Hornpipe." 

 1. 



'Twas the latter end of August, 

 When Timmy Tench walk'd out, 

 His head was full of fishing, 



For he'd read Izaak Walton ; 

 Along the famed Lea river 

 He meant to take a rout ; 

 And readily to reach the spot, 



Slept over-night at Dalston. 

 I will let each Angler see, 

 A bohber true I mean to be, 

 And what is more than that, said he, 



Despise each poacher shabby, 

 For I have rods, and lines, and hooks, 

 And better than them all, odd zooks, 

 I've got leave to fish the " crooks " 



Not far from Waltham Abbey. 



CHOR. -At bottom or a bait to trip, 



To sniggle, ledger, rove or dip, 



By Minnow, spinning, trolling, whipping 



He became an Angler. 



