32 ANGLING REMINISCENCES. 



ing fellow, with a lively eye, and smooth fore- 

 head. 



May. I have fingered out the very imp ; but he 

 is slippery as a pig's-tail, and has fallen somewhere 

 among the grass. Ha ! here he is, dancing about 

 with the spirit of a mountebank. 



Otter. I have fastened him to my wish, and he 

 turns admirably. I saw a fish follow to the water's 

 edge ; and there again ! the same sly prowler ; but 

 he has seen me, and slinks off. Heaven forgive 

 him ! 



Leister. He was no doubt a thunderer, Tom, his 

 escape annoys you so terribly. 



Otter. And well it might ; for a goodlier trout 

 never showed fin, even to old Isaac himself; no, 

 nor inhabits black Styx, nor Lethe, with its lau- 

 danum-running streams; but he shall die to night! 

 His haunt is under that tuft of rushes, and a par- 

 tail will spring him an hour or so after sunset, else 

 the skill is out of Otter's right hand. 



May. Bravo ! thou art a threatful arid dangerous 

 man, and wilt extirpate the whole race of giants. 

 Methinks I espy Timothy Gaff wending down the 

 hill to join us. 



Leister. Thou art right, Bill ; and who are with 

 him but our skeleton-shaped friend, Harry Hackle, 

 and worthy Doctor Swiveltop ! Are they not ang- 

 ling dons of the first-water, tastefully rigged out 

 in modish apparel ? Yet Harry is a genuine 

 sportsman, and throws a fly with wonderful neat- 



