122 ANGLING 



got unsettled and rainy, and barbel like a low, clear water. 

 Mr. Hopper, too, had to leave his Trent-side resort on two 

 occasions for two days each time, and this prevented him from 

 keeping the swims properly baited, and the fish got dispersed, 

 so Mr. Hopper for several days indulged in light fishing and 

 landed a lot of dace and very fine gudgeon. The latter were 

 splendid specimens, each fish being half-a-dozen times the size 

 of the Benniworth gudgeon. The first evening's fishing this 

 visit brought four chub from 2lbs. to 2ilbs. each to his creel. 

 Wasp grub the bait, and rod of five pieces weighing only 

 7! ounces, and each fish was landed by hand at side of boat. 

 Master Hopper, after an absence of five years, has again 

 visited Trent-side, but he is not an enthusiast in the matter of 

 angling. 



Mr. Hopper tells no tales and asks no questions, but well, 

 there are a lot of pretty girls about, and Mr. Hopper wishes he 

 were young once more. The young chaps get all the smiles 

 from the river banks nowadays. Blow getting old says Mr. 

 Hopper, who heard a tale about getting old a very funny 

 tale indeed but much too racy to communicate in these 

 notes. It was quite original, and Charlie Cobb the garth- 

 man was responsible for it poor old Charlie he's 68 he 

 says, and is still good at most things. Not everything he 

 says, but he can ferry the boat across the river or shift the 

 manure out of the crew-yard against any man. Charlie is 

 fond of his pint, but as " lifting the elbow " goes in these parts 

 he is very abstemious, seven or eight a day not more. 



Talking about pints, the day Mr. Hopper arrived at Trent-side 

 the usual 10 thirty-sixes were in course of delivery, the drayman 

 being a massive looking man but quiet in speech. With him 

 Hopper junior opens conversation. " They tell me a lot of 

 fellows about here can put away a lot of beer in a day." 

 " Well, yes ! but they work hard and it don't hurt them if it's 

 good stuff." "What can you do?" was the next enquiry of 

 young Mr. Hopper. " Well, zur, I did my seven pints afore 

 breakkust, and I allus does my 20 pints a day, never more and 

 never less." " But ! " chimes in Mr. Hopper, " surely you have a 



