ROMAN REMAINS. 335 



AMICUS. My patience is exhausted. A good 

 half-hour has been spent in this lath-trowling 

 and fruitlessly. It is getting cold, and I am 

 getting chilled. Let us give it up and hasten 

 home. I shall be glad to take an oar. The 

 mountains that are yet visible are getting 

 darker and darker. We shall be fortunate if 

 we escape a wetting before we land. The 

 fisherman tells me that last spring, in this very 

 month, he took in one afternoon two dozen and 

 three charr, fishing where we are and in the 

 same manner. I can hardly credit it. 



PISCATOR. I am not displeased that we have 

 had no success with the lath ; I should be bet- 

 ter pleased were it always the same. That it 

 occasionally is a murderous method cannot be 

 doubted ; indeed, apart from that it has nothing 

 to recommend it, and I am sure it will never be 

 liked by the genuine angler, who does not angle 

 for his bread, but for recreation and exercise. 

 We will land at the confluence of the two 

 rivers ; and in our walk home I shall be able to 

 point out the remains of a Roman encampment 

 preserved not in stone but in turf, which, how- 

 ever paradoxical it may appear, is often more 

 enduring. 



