CHAPTER V. 



December i6t/i, 1893. 



Have never eaten chub Walton's appreciation of chub An 

 irreverent disciple says it tastes like "cotton wool and hair- 

 pins" Walton gives chub to milkmaid Meadow placards 

 Beecham's Pills, Little Liver Pills, etc. 



[F any further proof were wanted than those 

 which I have persistently given from time 

 to time in these pages that I am but a mere 

 amateur, or, as the chairman at the Annual 

 Fly Fishers' Dinner last week calls himself, a mere 

 novice in the angling art a nibbler off and on for 

 many years that proof may be found in the fact that 

 I have never eaten chub. I never caught one. Here, 

 you may be sure, is the distinguishing line which 

 separates every true-born Izaak Waltonian from the 

 mere peddler at angling. Nascitur non ft is as true 

 of piscators as of poets if one is not born so, one can 

 never be made an angler of the true breed. Is it 

 possible that there can be any degenerate son of 



