ON SURREY HILLS. 



have been renovated to such an extent as to be almost 

 beyond recognition. When we once went together 

 some distance to paint a very picturesque old country 

 bridge, covered with mosses and lichens of past gen- 

 erations, half hidden in a grand tangle of docks, water- 

 parsley, loosestrife and meadow-sweet — a perfect 

 picture as we had been accustomed to see it — and 

 found when we got there that it had been restored, 

 we had a few words to say on the subject that need 

 not be recorded. For the brickwork had been cleared 

 off and the mortar-joints fresh painted. The glorious 

 tangle had been cleared away, and in its place were 

 some brand-new posts and rails, painted white. As 

 we returned home we indulged in moody speculation 

 on the mutability of things in general. 



But to return to our subject. I was looking one 

 morning at the scene I have attempted to describe, 

 not with the purpose of fishing, but considering the 

 points for a picture, when down the meadow strolled 

 " Gentle," a youth who got this appellation from the 

 fact of his providing anglers with this most useful 

 bait summer and winter. He was between nineteen 

 and twenty ; as to his clothes, a thing of shreds and 

 patches ; as an angler, one of the best who ever 



