DEATH AND THE POT. 23 



bank " small by degrees and beautifully less. 11 

 What would ye more, so lead him gently inwards. 

 By Jupiter ! he makes another run and tries to 

 dig, but can't. Alas ! poor Yorick ! His move- 

 ments now are heavy, as if his fins were lead, 

 his mouth is opened wide (see how the fierce 

 Professor, with deep sunk barb, doth hang upon 

 his tongue), languid and sore distressed he wavers 

 to and fro, as if some thickening haze suffused 

 his sight, he shews his broadening side, blazoned 

 with pearls and gold. How beautiful he looks, 

 as nearing the pebbly shore, his dorsal fin dimples 

 the shallower depths, no creature swims so softly 

 as a fish. Give him the option now, once more, 

 of land or water. Shorten your line to the utmost, 

 but take care of the top knot, for it does no good 

 within the ring; now he enters the hoped for 

 haven, lead away, my hearty, he turns on one 

 side (oh ! goodly gut be strong), his head is out 

 of water, his gills heave, there is a suspicious look- 

 ing movement of the pectoral fins, but your hand 

 has grasped his body just above the tail, and, in 

 another moment, you are sitting together on the 

 green sward, as if you had known each other all 

 your lives. Sic transit gloria truttce. 



Now, of the noted flies above named, (and we 

 have performed the same feat with each and all), 

 none of the three resembles, or was ever intended 

 to resemble, nature. We ourself invented, in a 

 wayward hour, both Sam Slick and Long Tom, 

 and the Professor, as is well known to the world in 

 general, was called into existence by a younger 



