133 



springs from the neighbourhood of Castle-Cary, 

 and runs through an interesting section of the 

 county, for nearly thirty miles. 



The muses are sometimes invoked among the 

 anglers in Somersetshire. The following song, 

 in the provincial dialect, is a specimen of their 

 skill and talent in this line : 



Hul lup ! hum ! burn ! I've hooked a vish ; 



Lor, Lor ! how e da pool ; 

 My rod da beynd, an' reyl da whiz, 



As thoff I'd hooked a bool. 



Peck in a stwoan behine theck weed, 



Well zed ! Now burn below ; 

 Work 'en wull, an' he'll be mine 



In 'bout a nour er zo. 



I'll try ta tow en, if I^can, 



'Pon theck there zandy beych, 

 He's jis done up another flounce 



El drow en in thy reych. 



Hooraw ! Hooraw ! Hip, hip, hooraw ! 



By gar, the job is done ; 

 He's landed saaf les lug en off, 



An' hev some jolly fun. 



A darn gurt whacking salmon 'tis 



Da weigh 'most twenty poun* ; 

 He's zix-an' -thirty inches long, 



An' nigh 'pon twenty roun. 



