Tell me, stranger, ere I perish,
Of the fish men call the trout,
Ere I lose the hopes I cherish,
Summer in and summer out,
Hopes of hooking one and landing
Him before the day is done,
Waist deep in the water standing,
From the dawn to set of sun.
Tell me, is his belly yellow?
_Is_ he spotted red and black?
_Does_ he look a splendid fellow
When you turn him on his back?
Is there any fly can rise him,
Any hook can hold him tight?
Is one able to surprise him
Any time from morn to night?
Stranger, years I've passed in trying
Every artifice and lure,
Standing, crawling, wading, lying,
Casting clean and long and sure.
Empty yet remains my basket,
Cramped and weary grows my fist,
Stranger, in despair I ask it,
Does the trout in truth exist?
* * * * *
HAGIOLOGY.--_Patron of a Fishmarket._--St. Polycarp.
* * * * *
[Illustration: _Encouraging Prospect._--_Piscator Juvenis._ "Any sport,
sir?"
_Piscator Senex._ "Oh, yes; very good sport."
_P.J._ "Bream?"
_P.S._ "No!"
_P.J._ "Perch?"
_P.S._ "No!"
_P.J._ "What sport, then?"
_P.S._ "Why, keeping clear of the weeds!"]
* * * * *
[Illustration: TEACHING THE TEACHER.--_New Curate._ "Now, boy, if, in
defiance of that notice, _I_ were to bathe here, what do you suppose
would happen?"
_Boy._ "You'd come out a great lot dirtier than you went in!"]
* * * * *
[Illustration: "SMALL MERCIES."--_First Jolly Angler_ (_with empty
creel_). "Well, we've had a very pleasant day! What a delightful pursuit
it is!"
_Second Ditto_ (_with ditto_). "Glorious! I sha'n't forget that nibble
we had just after lunch, as long as I live!"
_Both_ "Ah!!"]
* * * * *
[Illustration: "VERY LIKELY A WHALE"
_Lady Visitor_ (_who has been listening to Piscator's story_). "I didn't
know that trout grew as large as that!"
_Piscator's Wife._ "Oh, yes, they do--after the story has been told a
few times!"]
* * * * *
A REFLECTION BY AN ANGLER.--Nature's aristocracy. Mortal man being but a
worm, is therefore by nature of _gentle_ birth.
* * * * *
NET PROFIT.--A fisherman's.
* * * * *
PISCATORIAL.--Shakespearian angler's song to his bait: "Sleep, gentle,
sleep."
* * * * *
[Illustration: OUR FRIEND BRIGGS CONTEMPLATES A DAY'S FISHING.--He is
here supposed to be getting his tackle in order, and trying the
management of his running line.]
* * * * *
[Illustration: _Robson._ "Do you think fishes can hear?"
_Dobson._ "I should _hope_ not. Listen to old Smith--he's smashed his
rod!"]
* * * * *
[Illustration: _Lambertson (who is nervous, and weighs about a cart-load
of bricks, to Dapperton, who has just nipped across, and weighs about
nine stone nothing)._ "Oh, yes! All very fine for you to say, 'Don't
dwell on it.' B--B--BUT----"]
* * * * *