FIN AND FUR ON SURREY HILLS. 89 



sible fishing was enough to get you excommunicated 

 by the miller. No keeper ever watched his coveys 

 of partridges with more jealous care than that miller 

 did the trout that lived in his portion of the stream. 

 Yet he was once tricked out of a day's fishing by a 

 supposed clergyman, compared with whom my poor 

 Harlequin was a saint. I shall never forget the 

 wrath and disgust with which he related the story 

 to me. I give it as the miller told it, a few days 

 after it occurred. 



"Just after breakfast there came a rap at the door, 

 which mother answered. Then she told me that 

 there was a strange gentleman, a very respectable- 

 looking clergyman, inquiring for me. I went out, 

 and he at once held out his hand, saying, 'Good 

 morning, Mr Dash, good morning to you ; I must 



introduce myself. I am the vicar of G , and 



my old college friend, your worthy and esteemed 

 landlord, wrote me an invitation to come and have 

 a day's fishing over here. He knows my weakness 

 for the gentle sport, and he said I was to come to 

 you, with his compliments, for instruction where it 

 was best to go, and about other matters concerning 

 the limits of his water. 1 He said, too, as how he 



