20 AN ANGLER'S HOURS i 



which would hold a fellow of twenty pounds. 

 At last the carp is brought close in to the 

 bank, and the new-comer has it safe in the 

 folds of his net. The spring - balance 

 announces that it weighs seven pounds and 

 three ounces. Its bronze armour gleams in 

 the sun, and our friend thinks, as he surveys 

 it, that he is a fortunate man. He is, 

 indeed, for though the anglers in the river 

 be many, yet they that capture the river- 

 carp be very few. Some day that carp 

 shall adorn his chamber, tricked out in a 

 handsome case, and confessing by his super- 

 scription who killed him and how. 



But time has meanwhile sped, and the 

 angler bethinks him of a further breakfast, 

 and packs up his tackle to go. The other 

 fish, needless to say, has departed and taken 

 with him most of the line. But that cannot 

 disturb our friend's equanimity, for with 

 fifteen fish, weighing nearly twenty -five 

 pounds, he can go home with a quiet mind 

 and be not ashamed to speak with his 

 family in the gate. His shoulders will 

 surely ache before he gets there, but that 

 is as well, for unlimited prosperity is good 

 for no man. And so let us leave him. 



