250 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. [part ii. 



Viator. Here's another skip-jack ; and I have raised five or 

 six more at least, whilst you were speaking. Well, go thy way, 

 little Dove ! thou art the finest river that ever I saw, and the 

 fullest of fish. Indeed, Sir, I like it so well that I am afraid you 

 will be troubled with me once a year, so long as we two live. 



PiSCATOR. I am afraid I shall not. Sir ; but were you once 

 here a May or a June, if good sport would tempt you, I should 

 then expect you would sometimes see me ; for you would then 

 say it were a fine river indeed, if you had once seen the sport at 

 the height. 



Viator. Which I will do, if I live, and that you please to 

 give me leave. There was one, and there another. 



PiSCATOR. And all this in a strange' river, and with a fly of 

 your own making ! why, what a dangerous man are you ! 



Viator. I, Sir : but who taught me ? and as Damatas says 

 by his man Dorus, so you may say by me — 



If mv man such priises have, 

 What then have I, that taught the knave ? * 



But what have we got here ? a Rock springing up in the middle 

 of the river ! this is one of the oddest sights that ever I saw. 



PiSCATOR. Why, Sir, from that Pike t that you see standing 

 up there distant from the rock, this is called Pike Pool,' and 

 young Mr Izaak Walton was so pleased with it as to draw ,it in 

 landscape, in black and white, in a blank-book I have at home, 

 as he has done several prospects of my house also, which I keep 

 for a memorial of his favour, and will show you when we come up 

 to dinner. 



Viator. Has young master Izaak Walton been here too ? 



PiSCATOR. Yes, marry has he, Sir, and that again and again 

 too ; and in France since, and at -^Rome, and at Venice, and I 

 can't tell where : but I intend to ask him a great many hard 

 questions so soon as I can see him, which will be, God willing, 

 next month. In the meantime. Sir, to come to this fine stream 

 at the head of this great pool, you must venture over these 



* 'From Sir P. Sidney's Arcadia^ book i., which reads — 

 For if my man must praises have, 

 What then must I, that keep the knave? 



t 'Tis a rock, in the fashion of a spire-steeple, and almost as big. It stands in the 

 midst of the river Dove, and not far from Mr Cotton's house, below which place this 

 delicate river takes a swift career betwixt many mighty rocks, much higher and bigger 

 than St Paul's Church before 'twas burnt. And this Dove being opposed by one of the 

 highest of them, has at last forced itself a way through it ; and after a mile's conceal- 

 ment, appears again with more glory and beauty than before that opposition, running 

 through the most pleasant valleys and most fruitful meadows that this nation can justly 

 boast of. — Walton. 



