Walton's River. 95 



Tottenham from some Bethnal Green bye-lane, where over- 

 night they had carefully boiled the rice or wheat for bait 

 which now forms part of the pack which they bear. Literally 

 they are too poor to spare sixpence upon railway travelling ; 

 but it cannot in any wise be said of them that 



" Chill penury repressed their angling rage 

 And froze the roaching current of their soul." 



The rank and file of the Lea anglers are, it must be 

 meekly confessed, a trifle rough in language and in de- 

 meanour. They employ figurative speech. Even' in 

 Walton's time there were swearers on the Lea; the breed 

 has been perpetuated, wherefore let me recall yet another 

 reminiscence of that May-day ramble. " At Trout Hall," 

 says Walton, " not far from this place, where I purpose to 

 lodge to-night, there is usually an angler that proves good 

 company; and let me tell you good company and good 

 discourse are the very sinews of virtue : but for such dis- 

 course as we heard last night, it infects others. The very 

 boys will learn to talk and swear, as they heard mine host 

 and another of the company that shall be nameless." 



At Tottenham I have seen a score of patient fishermen 

 occupying as many yards of the river bank, — the old barge 

 river, — and if they had taken roach every time they swore 

 an oath there would not have been many fish left to catch. 

 Milkmaid Maudlin's mother paid Piscator the compliment 

 of admiring him and the angling fraternity at large. She 

 promised him a syllabub of new verjuice "in a new-made 

 haycock for it," and one of the daughter's best ballads, 

 should he come that way a couple of months later. 



"For," said the sensible creature, "she and I both love 

 all anglers, they be such honest, civil, quiet men." 



Maudlin and her mother spoke no doubt as they found. 



