ON THE THAMES. 317 
skin ; he must be very excitable to dance to such 
porcine music. Play up, boy,” we cried; “never. 
mind the cows.” An answer rude, and decidedly not 
classical, from our Chertsey Tityrus, put an abrupt 
end to our conversation. “We then anchored for lunch 
undera bush. While washing a glass I saw an appari- 
tion in among the weeds, not six inches from us, in 
the form of Master Jack, who lay, apparently half- 
asleep, and I am sure laughing at us. “ Well, that zs 
impertinence. Look at the fellow; we have been 
fishing for him all day, and now the rascal comes to 
lunch with us.’ “Of course he does,” said P. ; “the 
fish about here are wonderfully well-bred and highly 
civilised I assure you ; they require introductions be- 
fore they make friends. I like a good rustic fish now— 
regular unsophisticated fellows that don’t know what 
a hook is, nor yet the smell of cobbler’s wax, 6r fish- 
ing-tackle makers’ varnish. But see if he’ll eat veal- 
pie... ungrateful brute, he refuses it—he’s off. 
Never mind, we will eat it, This is very pleasant 
though ; I feel quite poetical. Give me another glass 
of sherry, Harris. I say, do you recollect Tennyson’s 
charming lines about the brook? How well they de- 
scribe this little gravelly shallow— 
“T wind about, and in and out, 
With here a blossom sailing, 
And here and there a lusty trout, 
And here and there a grayling.”... 
