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after that, "but still he has caught no trout, though he 

 has lost many flies. On the fourth day it rains, and 

 in the forlorn hope of filling his "basket while the -water 

 is rising, he ventures, without umbrella, to brave a 

 shower hut still without success; he catches nothing 

 "but a cold. The same night he has his feet put in 

 warm water, and takes a "basin of gruel when he goes 

 to "bed. How unlike the angler proper, who has the 

 same day "been fishing in the Tweed, between Yair- 

 bridge and Melrose. He has caught four grilses, and 

 as many dozen of trouts, from three in the afternoon 

 till seven; and about eight o'clock, to save time and 

 trouble, takes both dinner and supper at once; and 

 afterwards enjoys, with Capt. Clutterbuck, a bottle 

 of wine, drinks three tumblers of toddy, smokes two 

 cigars, and retires to bed about eleven, to rise, like 

 a giant refreshed, at six the next morning. 



But to attend to the progress of our amateur angler's 

 disorder. The next morning he finds that the cold 

 which he has caught when trying for trout, is not dis- 

 posed to leave him ; so he takes his coffee and reads 

 the newspaper in bed. He gets up about two in the 

 afternoon, rather hoarse, with a slight tickling cough, 

 but dares not stir out, as a drizzling rain is falling. 

 Towards evening he becomes fidgety, and wants some- 

 thing to read ; and looking into his trunk for a book, 

 lays his hands on Walton, which, in savage mood, he 

 throws to the other side of the room, wishing the good 

 old man, and all writers on angling whom he considers 



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