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Glendale is a part of the country to which 

 I am exceedingly partial, and where I de- 

 light to spend a week or two in the summer 

 season. Here have I often arose to follow 

 the windings of the stream, ere the sun's 

 morning rays had dispersed the mist which 

 hung round the brow of Cheviot, and often 

 lingered at eve till his last beams had ceased 

 to gild its top, walking homeward in solitude, 



" When night had wrapt the world in spectred gloom, 

 And silence listened to the beetle's horn/' 



Many a pleasant hour have I passed in this 

 Neighbourhood, winding up the amusements 

 of the day with a friendly " crack " over a 

 bottle of wine or a tumbler of toddy, with a 

 few brethren of the angle at the " Cottage " 

 at night. The following is a brief report 

 of one of those meetings " piscatoribus 

 sacrum" which was held there about two 

 summers ago. 



