36 



THOMA 5 BE WICK. 



writer declared that when he did so, and when the river Tyne was too 

 swollen to cross, he was in the habit of shouting his inquiries over the flood ; 

 and having given and received his messages, contentedly returned to New- 

 castle. This, however, Bewick contradicted, calling it "babbles and 

 nonsense," so far as the shouting was concerned, though he admits he once 

 did such a thing. " It never happened but once," are his words, "and that 

 was when the river had suddenly swollen before I could reach the top of the 

 allers (a small plantation), and yet folks are made to believe that I was in the 

 habit of doing it." 



Weekly visits to his parents were from this time kept up by Bewick during 

 his apprenticeship, and indeed also for years afterwards, lasting long after 

 the doctor's orders became unnecessary. He was in the habit of going to 

 Cherryburn, returning on the same day ; most likely on Sundays, when he 

 had his leave. His other holidays during his apprenticeship were at 

 Easter and Whitsuntide, as agreed on when taken into Beilby's employment; 

 but these were occupied mostly with angling, a pursuit of which Bewick 

 was, like many Northumbrians, most passionately fond. 



" Well do I remember," he says, in one of the passages in his Memoir, " mount- 

 ing the stile which gave the first peep of the curling or rapid stream, over the 

 intervening, dewy, daisy-covered holme — boundered by the early sloe, and the 

 hawthorn-blossomed hedge — and hung in succession with festoons of the wild rose, 

 the tangling woodbine, and the bramble, with their bewitching foliage — and the 

 fairy ground — and the enchanting music of the lark, the blackbird, the throstle, and 

 the blackcap, rendered soothing and plaintive by the cooings of the ringdove, which 

 altogether charmed, but perhaps retarded, the march to the scene of action, with its 

 willows, its alders, or its sallows — where early I commenced the day's patient 

 campaign. The pleasing excitements of the angler still follow him, whether he is 

 engaged in his pursuits amidst scenery such as I have attempted to describe, or on 

 the heathery moor, or by burns guttered out by mountain torrents, and boundered 

 by rocks or grey moss-covered stones, which form the rapids and the pools in which 

 is concealed his beautiful yellow and spotted prey. Here, when tired and alone, I 

 used to open my wallet, and dine on cold meat and coarse rye bread, with an 

 appetite that made me smile at the trouble people put themselves to in preparing 



