ANGLING. 233 



and regret that necessity which is ever leading us away 

 from the abodes of peace and happiness. After perform- 

 ing a tour around the pond, we return perhaps to our 

 original fishing-ground, pleased with the simple adven- 

 tures we have encountered, and prepared to commence 

 anew our patient toil. 



As the decline of day begins to be apparent, the fishes 

 are more active in their nibbling, and there is a more gen- 

 eral stir among all the creatures of the field and wood. 

 The thrushes are more musical in the neighboring thicket, 

 and the yellow-throat comes within a few yards of us, 

 and sings upon the branch of an alder-bush, as if he was 

 pleased with our company. The frogs begin to be more 

 loquacious, and our attention is attracted by different 

 objects from those we observed at noonday or in the 

 morning. A tortoise now and then protrudes its beak 

 and eyes above the smooth sheen of the water, a little fish 

 leaps out and makes a sudden plash, or a solitary snipe, 

 with twittering notes, pursues its graceful flight along the 

 shore. 



At this time our luck as fishermen is usually the most 

 propitious: The fishes that seem averse to the warm 

 rays of the sun come out of deep water, as day declines, 

 and look out for their prey, and are more active in nib- 

 bling the bait. After this time, in the space of half 

 an hour, we often take fishes enough to make amends for 

 any previous bad luck. Presently the float grows dim to 

 the sight, the dew is perceptible on the grass, and the 

 evening star, as it shines through the semicircle of light 

 that surrounds the place where the sun went down, 

 reminds us of home. 



We prepare for our return, and for a change of scene 

 and rest from our weariness ; and home is never so de- 

 lightful as it seems after one of these excursions. There 

 is a luxury in our rest from toil which has been wearying 



