THE ANGLER'S SOUVENIR. 





big jaws, he has the bait, and hurrah ! he is 

 hooked. The miller's sympathies are now with the 

 angler who has performed so redoubtable a deed. 

 He shouts, " Hold him tight ! don't let him have 

 liis head." Very good advice this, but impossible 

 to follow, for the trout has got his head, and darts 

 off up-stream at a racing pace, leaving diverging 

 waves of water behind him. The line is rapidly 

 whisked off the reel. Our heavily-bending rod 

 tells us how futile would be the effort to check him 

 in his mad career. The situation is critical. Our 

 line is nearly run out. We cannot follow along 

 the bank ; the last inch is now off the reel. 



"Throw your rod in after him." The advice 

 comes too late. There is a sharp struggle forty 

 yards up the stream ; the gut gives way, and the 

 line flies back among the bushes in sticky folds. 

 Oh, horror ! 



'' What to iis remains of good ? " 



Despair ! Tare and 'ouns ! Frantic gesticulations 

 and lamentations ! To hook him so cleverly, and 

 then to lose him ! Hath earth any sorrow like 

 this? The miller consoles us to the best of his 

 ability, and offers us a pipe. His wife says a cup 

 of tea not dandelion will do us good. We doubt 

 it our feelings are too severely lacerated but 

 we will try. Bless these people, how they do eat. 

 Breakfast at half -past seven ; lunch at half -past 

 ten ; dinner at one ; tea at half-past four ; and 





