THIRD DAY. 81 



Fewer traces of human innovation are to 

 be found here than in most rural dis- 

 tricts. I love these sequestered nooks, 

 where a man may rest, and calling home 

 his thoughts, commune with himself and 

 be still. 



" Dear Solitude, the soul's best friend, 

 That man acquainted with himself dost make, 

 And all his Maker's wonders to intend, 

 With thee I here converse at will, 

 And would be glad to do so still, 

 For it is thou alone that keep'st the soul awake." 



And now I shall leave you for a short 

 time, and fish up this little tributary stream. 

 I will rejoin you at the old pollard- willow 

 which you see by the brook's side yonder. 



[Exeunt. 



The old pollard-willow. SENEX, JULIAN, 

 SIMON PARADICE, meeting. 



S. Well, what sport? 

 J. Excellent. I have three brace; but 

 there is a fish rising yonder far beyond 



