8 



THE THAMES ANGLES. 



Piscator. It was Walton's Angler that I alluded to. 



Jones. We tried him once. His name was Rogerson; he 

 lives by the Ship Inn. 



Piscator. It is the booh, I mean. You will there find the 

 joys of the angler's life well defined. It is indeed a great 

 delight. I know of no pleasure like that which a day's sport 

 affords. 



Jones. It is lucky we differ in our tastes. A rise in the 

 share market, I must confess, is my happiness. 



Brown. And I, sir, think that waking first in the morniug, 

 in a continental hotel, with a bright tour before you, and ar- 

 ranging your day, with nothing to think about but idle enjoy- 

 ment, is the perfection of life. 



Robinson. Give me a stall at the Opera, out of the draught, 

 or a pit box with one agreeable companion, a full house, and the 

 curtain just rising for Trovatore or Fra Diavolo. What is 

 equal to that supreme moment ? 



Piscator. Gadso ! would not a seat in a punt on a wet day at 

 the Barbel pitch under the second arch of 



CHEB.TSEY BRIDGE 



be better ? Let us sit down on this soft dry turf, and look at 



