THE ANGLERS SOUVENIR. 



able to follow him on the shore for a tree, a rock, or 

 a row of alders prevents him, and knowing that 

 his tackle, which towards the hook is of the finest 

 gut, will not hold the trout, and rather than lose the 

 speckled beauty, three pounds weight at the least, 

 into the water he goes, up to his knees, and possibly 

 a yard above, the first step. And thus he continues 

 leading a sort of amphibious life, now on land, now 

 in the water, for nearly half a day, till he has killed 

 his creel-full, about the size of a fish-woman's pan- 

 nier, with some three or four dozen besides, strung 

 on his garters and suspended over his rod. In this 

 guise, light-hearted for he has reason to be proud 

 of his success though heavily laden, he takes his 

 way homeward ; and then does he, for the first time, 

 note how rapidly the hours have fled. He came 

 out about two in the afternoon, just thinking to 

 try if the trout would rise, as there had been 

 a shower in the morning and the water was a 

 little coloured ; and he now perceives that the 

 sun, which is shedding a flood of glory through 

 the rosy clouds that for half an hour before 

 partly obscured his rays, will in ten minutes sink 

 behind the western hill, although it be the 21st 

 of June. Involuntarily he stands for a while to 

 gaze upon the scene. Everything around him in 

 the solitude of the hills for there is no human 

 dwelling within five miles appears quiet and com- 

 posed, but not sad. The face of nature appears 

 with a chastened loveliness, induced by the 



