THE ANGLER'S SOUVENIR, 



39 



this year. I am living in hope that the tide of 

 luck will take a turn for the better. 



A friend of mine met an angler the other day, 

 and asked him, 

 /Y// "What sport?" 

 >'/}// " Oh, splendid sport." 

 // \f i " How many have you caught ? " 

 I / "Ob., I haven't caught any." 

 I '/ That fisherman was a philospher. Neither I nor 



any true angler would grumble at an occasional 

 - ! -' blank day ; but when it comes to a continuous run 

 I of blank days, the angler is justified in tearing his 



, \ hair, and asking himself the reason why he was 



- \ w born. 



\ N, Yet " hope springs eternal in the human breast,' 



and now and then come " red-letter days " which 

 will bear describing and thinking over again and 

 , 1 again, one of which will make up for many blank 

 days. Perchance some still evening, when the 

 sunset is dying in the west, and the placid river 

 flows on monotonously, I shall catch the big fish 

 which is ever in my dreams. 



But whether I am successful or unsuccessful, 

 shall maintain that there is no recreation like 

 angling. 



" Some youthful gallant here perhaps will say, 



This is no pastime for a gentleman, 

 It were more fit at cards and dice to play, 

 To use both fence and dancing now and then, 



