98 PERCH FISHING CLUB. 



established, I verily believe, as a source of amuse- 

 ment to himself. He provided a dinner for us, 

 protected the fishery, and took a great interest in 

 the election of a new member. He knew the cha- 

 racter and history of every one in the neighbour- 

 hood, and gave his opinion freely of those whom 

 he thought would not make a pleasant addition to 

 the party. Our host himself looked like a regular 

 Boniface. Enormously fat and portly in his person, 

 rough in his manners, and having a sly, cunning look 

 out of the corners of his eyes, like a magpie, he was 

 nevertheless liberal in his entertainments, and mode- 

 rate in his charges to the club, of which he considered 

 himself a member. He beat us all as a perch fisher, 

 but a game of bowls was his delight, although he 

 was unable to pick up a ball, and like Falstaff, it 

 was many a year since he had seen his own knee. 

 During a game of bowls, he watched his opportu- 

 nity of making a small bet, which he generally won 

 to his evident satisfaction, and on receiving the 

 money, he gave a significant look, implying, in the 

 language of the road, that he knew a thing or two. 

 Such was Tom Wagstaffe, and I verily believe 

 that the happiest days of his life were those on 

 which the Club met at his house. He was rich 

 and prosperous. His mill was kept constantly 

 going, and the noise of the wheel, and the splash 

 of the water, added to the interest of the scene 

 around us. His farm, and farm-yard, teemed with 



