DUM CAPIMUS CAPIMUR. 1 



bagged your fifth, and triumphantly informs you that 

 her size is "sixes, sir!" "Again, come, double or 

 quits?" If you are lucky you may possibly win; 

 but if you are not only not lucky but in love, you 

 lose to a dead certainty. Something must be wrong : 

 you examine your little red worm with an unloving 

 and critical eye, and you find that your No. 9 Kendal 

 is minus its barb ! Well, that's soon remedied : 

 "Come, one more pair?" but Julia declines with 

 thanks the proffered " glove," and hints that when she 

 accepted it before " your hand wasn't in !" The little 

 sharper! Well, so she is sharper than you at all 

 events ; and she might have accepted your challenge, 

 sir, with the utmost safety if she had chosen to "bleed" 

 you ; for she is one of the best gudgeon-fishers on the 

 Thames, and when ladies do take in earnest to catching 

 gudgeon, let me tell you they beat the lords of crea- 

 tion into fits. " Bless you !" as a Smithfield butcher 

 once observed to me a propos of sticking pigs, " it 

 comes nat'ral to 'em !" 



But how's this ? the gudgeon have all of a sud- 

 den left off biting? half-a-dozen swims without a 

 nibble " give them another Eake." You do, till your 

 arms ache. But you might just as well give them 

 another Spade for any effect it produces. Stay I 

 see ! My friend Mr. Perch is down below, and the 

 process of biting, so far as the gudgeon are concerned, 

 is taking a passive instead of an active form. Try 



