A TRIBUTARY OF THE SEVERN 83 
Street, S.W., in the City of Westminster ; and, 
again, at the other statue in the Square, Shrewsbury. 
‘‘ Our share in England’s glory 
Is famed in song and story ; 
Clive and Hill and Benbow— 
All are living mem’ries yet,” 
as Mr. W. Herbert Smith says in his stirring song 
of Shropshire, “All friends round the Wrekin.” 
The Newport-road bridge is associated in my 
mind with one of the exciting incidents of boy- 
hood. I was fly-fishing and had got a lot of 
line out behind, when I hooked something un- 
expectedly, The something proved to be a cow, 
and the fly had a solid hold. The animal dashed 
across the stream, where it was shallow. It was 
not a case so much of paying-out line as of the 
cow helping herself. She got across the river— 
she wanted playing !—and continued her career 
in the meadow opposite, towards Phoenix Bank. 
When the end of the line was reached, snap went 
the gut. I have often wondered what became of 
the fly. 
Turn up the Newport road and you will come 
to the village of Hinstock, whose one-time rector, 
Canon Ellerton, wrote some of the best-known 
hymns in Ancient and Modern, including “The 
day Thou gavest,” “ Now the Labourer’s task is 
o’er,” and “ Saviour, again to Thy dear name we 
raise.” These hymns have been sung the world 
over, wherever the English language is spoken. 
I heard the last hymn one Sunday evening in 
