26-1 FACT AGAINST FICTION. 



of the bofore-montioncd pool, then called by the 

 somewhat questionable name of ^''' Muddy Reach," 

 to mv intense diso'ust I saw the tall fio-ure of a 

 man standing by the side of the road, and fishing 

 in that, to me, sacred water. In my mind's eye 

 I see him now, so keen is my remembrance of 

 first impressions. lie was an old man, and 

 of rather a spare habit of body; his nose was 

 long, and his face of mild aspect, — none of the 

 ferocity about it which tliat featm-e, the nose, 

 seems to assume when snubbed in its lofty 

 proportions, while his eyes beamed mildly through 

 his spectacles, and spoke of a sweet and affable 

 S2)irit. Over these featiu-es, and above what 

 appeared to be the edges of a flaxen Avig, there 

 l^resided rather a broad-brimmed hat, suggestive 

 of the simplicity claimed by Quakers, but some- 

 what repudiated by them when ascending to the 

 Britjliter scenes of the House of Commons. 



Striding up to the side of this mild and 

 gentle-looking fisherman, I rather startled him 

 from the contemplation of the nibble beneath 

 his float by peremptorily demanding ^'what right 

 he had to lisli there." He turned his eyes 

 slowly upon me, his questioner, pushing u]) his 



