92 ANGLING REMINISCENCES. 



however, walk into my pannier, friend. Hollo, 

 Dick! 



Heron. Another! 



Wandle. A brace, I believe ; there is one at my 

 trail-fly also, but neither of them are large. You 

 see they begin to do us homage. 



Heron. So I observe. Look what a world of them 

 are agog in yonder stream! why, every inch of wa- 

 ter is alive; let us down to it, and give no quarter. 



Wandle. Remain where you are, Dick, if you 

 are wise. Take my word for it you'll not capture 

 a single fin. 'Tis the same on this very pool. See, 

 how the March-browns are descending ! Our fea- 

 thers can do nothing among such tempters. 



Heron. Sad enough! my mouth waters at the sight 

 of these great fellows popping up every mortal se- 

 cond, and no way to run our hooks athwart them. 

 I have one in jeopardy, however; he is but tender- 

 ly fastened, and I must wile him in among the levels. 



Enter SWIVELTOP. 



Swivel. You will teach our club humility, gentle- 

 men. Of a truth they may abandon the contest; 

 but I fear I disturb you, Mr Heron-bill. 



Heron. Not so, Doctor; I angle all the better 

 now that you are with me; believe me you are no 

 mar-sport, and aid wonderfully in keeping up my 

 courage 



Swivel. Which I had as lief see extinguished. 



