58 THE ANGLER'S GUIDE. 



No fish more sly the stream contains, 

 And none more often triumph gains 

 O'er rods, and lines, and hooks, and bait, 

 While anglers mourn their hapless fate. 



One's snapp'd his top, close at the joint, 

 Another's let the rascal point, 

 A third has lost his line complete, 

 A fourth, his hook and several feet. 



And then 'tis farcical to see 

 What winks, and smirks, and smiles there be, 

 While one confounds the barbel's jaws, 

 And some one else with laughter roars. 



Thus merrily, anglers pass a day 

 Where flowers expand and sunbeams play, 

 Where all the cares and woes they know, 

 From barbels' wily frolics flow. 



Then let the angler's skill improve, 

 Each blemish from his lines remove, 

 His patience daily greater grow, 

 And then, to fish for barbel, go. 



