ANGLING REMINISCENCES. 133 



Swivel. Question himself, Jack. See, there he is 

 in propria persona, attended by a Celtic body-guard, 

 for the purpose, I imagine, of delivering me from 

 the hands of such notorious highwaymen and slayers 

 of the king's lieges, as you and Tom Otter. 



Otter. Greet him with three cheers. 



All. Hurra! hurra! hurra! 



Enter MAY-FLY, attended by two others. 



Swivel. To the rescue, most valiant Bill! I am 

 sore beset by these foot-pads on either side of me. 

 What? armed with a pitch-fork, too? charge upon 

 them. 



Leister. Nay, a truce, Master May-fly, we sur- 

 render marr us not, I pray thee, with a weapon so 

 unseemly. 



May. Is't thou, Jack, and Otter too? egad ! boys, 

 but ye have sprung out of the water, and must have 

 rushed up Etive, like twain milters. Here is the 

 hostelry yclept King's-house, as you see, and here am 

 I, Will May-fly, blind and pinched below the ribs 

 with fatigue and famine ; wherefore, haste ye, mas- 

 ters, and enter, so that I may satiate instanter the 

 cravings of nature fill up my internal vacancies, 

 nook and cranny, with such moor dainties as this 

 refuge-roof affords and forthwith betake myself, 

 plenteously primed, to slumber on cool sheets, all 

 blanketings abjured and discarded. 



Intrant omnes. 



