The young heir of Lambton led a dissolute and evil course of life,
equally regardless of the obligations of his high estate, and the
sacred duties of religion. According to his profane custom, he was
fishing on a Sunday, and threw his line into the river to catch fish,
at a time when all good men should have been engaged in the solemn
observance of the day. After having toiled in vain for some time, he
vented his disappointment at his ill success, in curses loud and deep,
to the great scandal of all who heard him, on their way to Holy Mass,
and to the manifest peril of his own soul.
At length he felt something extraordinary tugging at his line, and, in
the hope of catching a large fish, he drew it up with the utmost skill
and care, yet it required all his strength to bring the expected fish
to land.
What was his surprise and mortification, when, instead of a fish, he
found that he had only caught a worm of most unseemly and disgusting
appearance. He hastily tore it from his hook and threw it into a well
hard by.
He again threw in his line, and continued to fish, when a stranger of
venerable appearance, passing by, asked him—
“What sport?”