160 ANGLING LITERATURE IN 



THE ANGLER. 



Patience, how great thou art in man, 



The Angler has brought his rod and can, 



To fish for a supper, no matter how little ; 



Only look ! he has fish'd up an old tin-kettle. 



Take a friend's advice, to end all strife, 



Mind your business at home, as you value your life. 



THE FISHERMAN. 



Crabbed beast, when first I saw thee 



Like a gudgeon I was caught 

 And lobster like, I fain would claw the 



Like a cod-head cheaply bought : 

 But yourjotvl to my own thinking 



And your plaice could ne'er be mine ; 

 Dabs and flounders soles all stinking 



Could not form a valentine. 

 When you spake of fine fresh salmon, 



And I lent a willing ear, 

 Something whisper' d plainly, " Gammon" 



And my nose said " all was queer :" 

 Pickled wilks and periwinkles 



To the rude taste may be fine ; 

 But, old wide-chops here my pen drops 



And I close my valentine. 



We find in that curious work entitled Leonis Alatii 

 de Graecorum Jiodie quorundum opinationibus, published 

 at Cologne in 1645, that mention is made of a popular 

 idea among the Greeks, that a certain kind of fish, like an 

 eel (some interpret as a snake), frequented the waters, and 



