A silence of some minutes ensued, while we dispatched the eggs and pickled pork, with a reinforcement of the former by Mrs. Chubb, together with the proper concomitants of potatoes, and excellent cheese and butter.

The tankard was soon emptied, and another filled at my desire. Nay, whether because pleased at the novelty of the scene, or with my companions themselves, I desired my glass of negus to be enlarged to a bowl, and shared by the company.

The landlord's heart opened. In truth, I believe neither he nor I ever made a better dinner. Pity that Fothergill had not seen his travelling disciple discussing this homely fare, and listening with unfeigned curiosity to mine host, who grew quite eloquent in praise of fishing and fishing-houses, and in particular as to the last, of the Jolly Angler.

When I, in return, praised his fare, and complimented Mrs. Chubb upon her cookery,

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Why, sir," said she, "I must say it did seem to go down well, and you were not above letting it.". “That's all right, and according to natur," said her husband. Why you ate for all the world like

a poor man.'

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"And much good may it do you," cried Mrs. Chubb, thinking, perhaps, of the white bed, vacant for two nights.

"But why," asked I, not unwilling to hear Boniface's sentences, "should not a rich man eat as well as a poor one? They are both men, and have the same Maker."

"And that's quite true," said Mrs. Deborah. "Perhaps the gentleman has just taken orders; we have a many clergymen as comes a-fishing here.”

"And no more than they should,” chimed in Mr. Chubb, "considering who they came from; for the Postles were all fishers."

"Still," said I," you have not told us why a rich man may not eat as heartily as a poor one?”

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"God forbid he shouldn't!" proceeded the host; they have the same mouths, and the same

-no, not

the same stomachs, as I was going to say, because you see-But Deborah, hand me down the book, which will tell the gentleman what I meant better than I can myself."

At this, taking the book from his wife, which I found was the precise old Walton, who had so misled Ryecroft, he presented it to me, very much dog'seared; and easily finding the passage, he observed,

"An angler like you, sir, no doubt knows all about this excellent book; next to the bible, I have heard say by Dr. P. himself (and I believe it), the most excellent book in all the world."

"And who is Dr. P.?"

"The greatest brother of the angle in England. In fact this book belongs to him, though he always leaves it when he goes, till he comes again to enjoy it."

Now I own, to my shame, I had not yet read a word of this old Izaak, who was such a favourite with everybody; but of course I did not choose to ruin my reputation by confessing it. However, I listened with great approbation to the passage, which was as follows:

"Poor men, and those who fast often, have much more pleasure in eating than rich men and gluttons, that always feed before their stomachs are empty of their last meat and call for more; for by that means they rob themselves of that pleasure that hunger brings to poor men. And I do seriously approve of that saying, that you would rather be a civil, well-governed, well-grounded poor angler, than a drunken lord."

Having read these words emphatically, with divers looks at his wife for support and approbation as he went along, (looks which she most dutifully obeyed), he continued,

"You see, sir, I was not without reason when I thought to compliment you by saying, you ate like a poor man. So here's to ye, and I hope the negus is to your liking."

I assured him nothing could be better; when he went on to say, that the book was indeed a wonderful book, and had a deal more in it than concerned fishing, being almost about every thing that a man could like or care for, and for that matter, might have been written by a parson; at least there were many parsons who did not preach half such good sermons as there were even in the songs, which seemed made on purpose to make people good and happy.

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Perhaps the gentleman would like to hear one of them," said Mrs. Chubb; " and I am sure after such a nice treat as he has given us in this here negus (filling her glass), you ought to give it him; that is, if he should like it, not unless. Our Kit, sir," she pro

ceeded, addressing herself to me, "knows them all by heart; and when the trout and eel feast is held here, as it is at Whitsuntide, he be always called upon by the gentlemen to dine and sing with them; and they say he beats our parish clerk all to nothing."

"O! Deborah," said the conscious husband (as if unwilling to have his merits revealed, yet not sorry for the disclosure), “you need not have said any thing about that; but if the gentleman would wish to hear the praises of angling, which, being so fond of the sport himself, no doubt he does,

I felt a little puzzled at this, but assured him nothing would please me more. Indeed I had begun to be highly entertained, and my curiosity was much moved. The honest landlord, therefore, having cleared his throat with another glass, and given me the book to follow the words, began:

"Oh! the gallant fisher's life

It is the best of any;

'Tis full of pleasure, void of strife,

And 'tis beloved by many.

Other joys

Are but toys,

Only this

Lawful is,

For our skill

Breeds no ill,

But content and pleasure.

"In a morning up we rise

Ere Aurora's peeping,

Drink a cup to wash our eyes,

Leave the sluggard sleeping.

Then we go

To and fro,

With our knacks

Upon our backs,

To such streams

As the Thames,

If we have the leisure."

"There, sir," said Mr. Chubb, stopping to take breath, "you see this is none of your drunken songs; but, as Dr. P. says, contains a dale of morality. Not that I have any objection to a bit of a jolly song, just to keep up the pleasure of a meeting or club, for the good of a house; but then it must not go farther than be merry and wise; for, as Deborah knows, I allow no drunkenness at the Jolly Angler-indeed, I should lose my licence if I did."

I deferred entirely to this reason for my host's morality, and commended his song, particularly for the good sentiments it exhibited.

“Yes, sir,” said he, "for, as Dr. P. says, it is all a moral. There is first pleasure indeed, but void of strife, and therefore harmless; then it breeds no ill, but enjoins content; then it recommends early rising, and to leave the sluggard in bed; and what consarns us landlords more, it recommends a morning cup.'

"Does Doctor P. particularly approve that?” asked I.

"Not particularly a cup of ale," replied Boniface; "but then he always takes his tea and cold ham or eggs, as it may be, before he goes a-fishing, and that is equally for the good of the house.”

"Which is perhaps the principal moral of the song," said I.