OUR OPJSyiNG DAY. 9 



softly over an April sky, and there is a friendly breeze from 

 the west ready to aid the angler. The river runs smooth 

 and deep here, but a little space ahead it tumbles into a 

 noisy weirpool, boiling and fretting, and ejecting from its 

 troubled depths an occasional weed or stick. At the rear 

 of the osier bed a placid backwater winds, and here one, 

 two, three, and four of our brotherhood are settling down to 

 a few hours' special correspondence with the tench, just 

 now in their prime, and, with this wind and water, almost 

 certain to be off their guard. 



We will stroll round that way by-and-by. But en passant 

 I would advise you never to hurry by this comer with your 

 eyes shut, for as the April days multiply there will appear 

 in all their vernal glory a host of marsh flowers and plants. 

 The village children, romping and hallooing in the distance, 

 are bound for the copse to search out wood anemones, the 

 woodruff, the wild hyacinth, lords and ladies, strawberry 

 blossoms, primroses, violets, crane-bills, and (as they will 

 call them) dafifydowndillies ; but our ruddy-faced little 

 friends are too early in the season, and will meet with but 

 a portion of the treasures they seek. 



Now let us pause at the weir, and watch our gay young 

 comrade do his will with the phantom minnow. If he 

 handle his papers at the Circumlocution Office as deftly as 

 his spinning-rod he ought speedily to reach a distinguished 

 position in the Civil Service. But he does not find a fish 

 instanter, nor will he succeed until the cast places his bait 

 in command of the furthest eddy and scour. This our gay 

 young comrade in due time neatly accomplishes, and his 

 reward is a vicious snap, a taut line, and a thrilling rod. 



It is a heavy trout, as you may see by his pull ; a lively 



