The Republican journal., 1870-08-25
LOVE AND ANGLING.
CAST I

CASrI
/ Looking ont from my bedroom window o
the Swan while the May moon was shining
on 4 broad reach of the front stream at tho
end of the smooth-shaven green before the
inn, with the scent of hawthorn coming with
the dusk, the gurgling talk Of the water, as
il ran and rippled against the sed@cs. seem
ed to possess an odd personal significance
which one sometimes finds in the .iingling OF
bells or the sound Of railway train. When
closed my shutters, and GOT into the lavender
scented sheets, still continued to hear the
voice Of the waters Ginning q dreary TO-
nance, which very soon lulled me to sleep.
and al the same time into dreamland Of the
plcasantcst tancies born of my waking
rcveries and of the chant of waters, which.
You should know, is always louder in the
daytime than in the night. | went through
the story of Undinc over again. My nymph
was fair demon of the Wimple, whom
woocd and Won in that kind of off hand fash
ion in which we manage such things for our
selves when within the portals Of the ivory
gates. Our courtshp seemed to have begun
in another place Us we took ii up at the point
where we had declared eternal love 70 each
other; and we required no explanation be-
tween us We We're, if You please, as happy
as the shepherds and shcpherdesses who
tended the silly sheep Of Already, whose days
ran out with billing and cooing. and piping
OF oakcn straws, with Just 4 few back ground
pcrilS from the goat-hooicd satyls from the
@lades and the forests. As we sat together
of noontide (perhaps in the Forest of
Arden. Shakespeare furnishes dream drama
with scenery very often.) the pain of an APP
proachin" loss weighed me down; and when
turned wistlully towards my companion,
10, the foul crew Of Comus had carried her
OIL the mocbin@ laughter of the hideous
rapparces withercd the trees into the black
and Slmtcd growths of u London park in
December, the light went out suddenly from
the picture. and | sank into Wakcfulness with
= curious ache and longing which may have
been III part Indigestion in part, at any rate,
grief, at the breaking up of the vision; and
in the half conscious mood which followed
the catastrophe, when the mind still hoycrcd
between things real and unreal, the song Of
the Wmple revealed itself once more, and
with it the carols Of the birds that We're hail
ing the dawn.
made Il short but good running at break
fast, and rs the Wimple must be fishcd be
fore the sun has burned up the clouds,
bend my steps towards the stream turning
from the lawn into a path through the lush
GRASS, on which the beads OF dew were gilt
tering like the Jewels on the scabbard of
Estcrh;Ny's sword. 1t is my first visit to the
Wimple, and to me there is a peculiar charm
in angling upon IN unknown stream lis
like making q fresh acquaintance about
whom You imagine all sorts Of agreeable
possibilities. You feel 4 little Of the vanity
of an explorer. too; for scenes that are un-
familiar to Us we constantly think are strange
TO others. That May morning how we'll
remember it! The dappled cows; the lark
singing With so much heart that his song
seemed to rebound from the very vault Of
the skies or break rs it touched it and fell
in shower of melody about us the cool
geld air of the dawn breeze: the scents OF
the aromatic water-plants, they arc present
to me as | write with a yividness that is al
most troublesome. Here is q bank after old
Walton's own heart. A deep pool, above 4
long stone slab, covered with a beard Of
moss, over which the Wimple runs and falls
about 4 single foot making 4 creamy swirl
which ought to be 4 sure find for Il trout Nv
rod had been already put up, and sclcctnga
small dun fly, standing rs far back Us posi-
bic, throw my first cast. Ila a rise as |
live; but he hasn't touched the hook Try
him again. and be more cautious in striking
this time. He has it, and as he dashcs across
the rivulct with the fly, | can feel from the
pull that he is 4 pound weight if on ounce
He has 4 game tussle for his life, but wcaries
at last, and at the roll Of the winch is towcd
helpless to the LITTLE shallow bay, where he
is assisted to land by the net A beautiful
fish, my masters, cleaning with rubies. q
pretty sight, as he lies on his death couch in
the basket upon pallet Of pale primroses.
moss, and Niolcts; which have been placed
there to honor the first prize. which like the
first baby, is always the most precious god
send
Fortune is tickle with us brethren of the
angle, Us with other folk Fortune deserts
me after a single favor. In vain, tor a whole
hour, do exhaust my skill and my ly-book
The harc's ear that never failed before fails
now: the tiny silver and gray, so often sue
ccssful with the shy citizens of the brook.
tempts them to initiate the bull at the Islinc-
ton Spanish bull fight, which merely CO.
quctted with his hind legs with the artists in
that exhibition So, with my solitary fish
wandered up the stream, and at length be-
Gin 10 suspect must have passed the bound
aly of the district which has been allotted
lor the use OF his customers to the landlord
of the Swan. However, there is an attract
i've piece of water we'll shaded by alders on
one side. and with Il clear bank on the other,
which | determined to essay, even at the
risk of being caught rs poachcr. Here |
have better luck. although the trout are small
and do not nrcessitate the employment of
the landing net. Brook trout are biting
mcrrily, and | begin to think shall have a
fair crccl TO show for the morning sport.
when suddenly become conscious of q very
singular phenomenon that for moment
startles me considerably. Making a cast
into ripple, round Il big boulder, find my
line firmly caught and dragged into the air,
and. AS live, am firmly entan@lcd.
go. how tircsomc" !" some one cries from
the shelters of the aldcrs; Il moment after
wards q young lady comes into sight with u
decided flush of anger on her cheeks
The young lady is clothed in gray from
head TO hose She has gray gloves, and
gray CATERS below her short dress; Il gray
hat with a gray feather; but her cheeks are
red, and she looks deliciously cross at the
accident which she had met with.
Don't be taking off your hat please; but
fry and free my line if you can.''
''lf you will be good enough to LET out
while | wheel in. | can then unfastcn the
hooks"
This is done with rather a sulky air; and
when released, the gray angler calls out
"Do you know, sir, that YOU have no RIGHT
to fish here9 This part of the stream is
strictly preserved.'