10 THE THAMES ANGLER. 



Jones. Very good ! It is curious to see how these poor 

 scribbling devils think of these things, for I believe the majority 

 of them can hardly rub one shilling against another. My son 

 is having an expensive education, with a clergyman for a private 

 tutor, and the best rooms in college, but I doubt whether he 

 could do that. I pay — 



Piscator. Another fish ! That is, indeed, truly sport. 



Brown. I can't make it out — it strikes me as stupid still. I 

 can fancy pulling out trout from under the rock of the Handeck, 

 in Switzerland — or netting the glittering anchovies on the blue 

 rippling sea-side at Naples — or, surer and better, opening a fresh 

 tin of sardines anywhere about the Mediterranean — or hauling in 

 a black and lively lobster off Norway — to say nothing of pitching 

 a flapping salmon on to the wild arbutus embers — 



Robinson. Or watching his " middle piece," as Mr. Rule opens 

 a fresh kit from Aberdeen, in his really submarine repository in 

 Maiden Lane. What piscatorial joy can equal that! (Robinson 

 becomes excited.) I see it now ! The Opera is just over, and 

 we pant for sustenance, having heard Linorali, on a subscription 

 night, for the hundred-and-ever-so-manyeth time — 



Jones. I gave eight guineas for a box to hear it on the night 

 Her Majesty — 



Brown. I heard it of old in Paris. It will never be popular. 

 Can you recollect one air that anybody can whistle ? — not one. 

 They all talk about " The Shadow Dance," and nothing else ; — 

 and what is "The Shadow Dance" — a very commonplace ela- 

 boration of part of the College Hornpipe. Do you, while it is 

 going on, care one single pin about what becomes of anybody, 

 anywhere, in any manner, all the way through ? and when it is 

 all over, have you one recollection of any particular air lingering 

 in your ear. No, no, a dull thing — a very dull thing indeed. 



Robinson. That's just what I was coming to. It is over, and 

 then, being in a craving state for refreshment, and unencumbered, 

 you slip out alone through the crush, and are at Rule's in two 

 minutes. That great philosophical triton, who rules as well the 

 destinies of Gorgona and the natives of Burnham with his sway, 

 is propounding an ethical theory to a chance but bewildered 

 customer. The matronly and pleasant Amphitrite of his crus- 

 tacean home is giving to the messenger the fresh and scarcely 

 cold lobster at eighteen-pence ; which anon, placed on the 

 battered old knife-scored, semi-plated, copper-showing, roughly- 



