"This is exactly the spot where I expected that you would have the best sport!

[Ill.u.s.tration: "I'll lay a penny that wouldn't ha' happened if _you_ had hold on 'im!!"

To face page 46.]

"The miller tells me that the largest fish lie there[B], near that broken post under the opposite bank. Pray cast your minnow close to that, and you will be sure to run a fish almost immediately."

Jenkins little knew what he was asking. The aforesaid post was at a formidable distance,--it could only be reached by a most skilful hand.

Thompson felt by no means disposed to attempt it, because, although Jenkins appeared to think that it would be an easy task for so finished an angler as Thompson, he himself had no doubt that the odious miller, who was still looking on, was of a very different opinion. He therefore thought that it would be wise to leave the question undetermined, and not to give a _casting_ vote on the occasion.

And now Thompson, turning his back on the river, walked home arm-in-arm with his friend Mr. Jenkins, grieving much about the fish which he had lost, and perhaps a little about those which Jackson had caught.

The brace of very fine trout, said to have been caught by Mr. Jackson, were exhibited by him in due form to Mr. Thompson and the ladies, just before luncheon. Whilst he was pointing out the beautiful condition of the fish, without at all underrating their weight, Miss Smith, who was staying on a visit with her sister, Mrs. Jenkins, pleasantly remarked that Mr. Jackson was very _lucky_ to have caught two such fine fish whilst Mr. Thompson had not caught any. This led to an interesting conversation about the caprice of the fickle G.o.ddess, so often alluded to in the lamentations of an unsuccessful angler. Thompson took no part in the discussion, and he did not refer them to the miller or the little boy for any other explanation[C] of the cause of his failure; but he begged that they would allow him to eat his luncheon, without waiting for the rest of the party, as he was anxious to return as soon as possible to the river, where he expected to have great sport in the evening.

[Ill.u.s.tration: _Geo. Jones, Esq. R.A._

"He begged that they would allow him to eat his luncheon without waiting for the rest of the party."

To face page 49.]

After luncheon, our unfortunate hero did not catch any fish, and he found that he could not throw his minnow within several yards of the far-famed post, even when he was not annoyed by spectators. He contrived, however, to get fast hold of another, at a much less distance from him; in consequence of which, he was obliged to abandon a second set of his best minnow tackle (price 2_s._ 6_d._) to its fate in the middle of the river.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "His ears were a.s.sailed by a loud repet.i.tion of the cruel cough."

To face page 51.]

At the end of _his day's sport_, Thompson omitted to use the wise precaution of taking his rod to pieces[D], before leaving the river side. On his way homewards, in the evening, he met the little boy, who slily asked him if he had had good sport _since_. This brought to his recollection the fact of his having to pa.s.s through the mill, in order to cross the river; and the prospect of his being asked a similar question by the miller was not agreeable. When he arrived at the mill, all was quiet; and he, therefore, flattered himself that the miller was comfortably enjoying his pipe at the ale-house.--Thompson was now so elated at the idea of pa.s.sing through un.o.bserved, that he quite forgot the exalted state of his rod, until he was reminded of it by a sudden jerk which broke off the top, leaving his third and last set of tackle, with a brilliant artificial minnow, sticking fast in a projecting rafter[E] above his reach. Hastily shoving the broken joint (Thompson never swears) into the b.u.t.t of his rod, he hoped that he should be able to conceal all knowledge of this last misfortune. He, however, felt very unwilling that the shining little minnow should remain in its present position, as a glaring proof of his awkwardness; and it immediately occurred to him, that a small ladder, which was close at hand, was a thing exactly suited to the occasion; but at the very moment when he became convinced, by actual experiment, that it was too short for his purpose, his ears were a.s.sailed by a loud repet.i.tion of the cruel cough, and his eyes were met by a killing glance from those of the miller's son.

On the following day, Thompson returned, much out of spirits, to London. On that day, too, the young miller resumed his duties at the mill, less out of humour than before. Very shortly after this the old miller died, and the son then took the fishery into his own hands; and, however closely he may now resemble his late grandfather (who formerly lived on the River Dee), in caring for n.o.body, he never, whilst Thompson lives, will be able to say "n.o.body cares for me."

"So ends my Tale:" for I fear that the reader must think that, like Thompson, he has now had quite enough of "THE MISERIES OF FISHING." I feel, however, a.s.sured that he will forgive me for relating this story, because, although his attention may be fatigued by the perusal of it, his eye will be gratified by the beauty of several new ill.u.s.trations, which I owe to the kindness of my friends, the distinguished artists, whose names are printed under their welcome contributions to my little book.

R. P.

_Whitehall, March, 1839._

[Ill.u.s.tration: _Sir Francis Chantrey, R.A._]

FOOTNOTES:

[A] It was a long one, when he talked about fishing.

[B] There the fish did not _lie_, but the miller did. He well knew that, since the letting of the fishery, his son had taken good care that the best of them should be gradually removed to Billingsgate by a more summary process than that of rod and line.

[C] Neither did Mr. Jackson think it necessary to explain to the ladies, or even to his friend Thompson, that the very fine fish, about which he had received so many compliments, had been taken by fixing his landing-net at the mouth of one of the narrow water-courses, up which they had worked their way in search of minnows;--a secret method of ensuring good sport, well known to some few very cunning anglers, whose motto is

"Unde habeas quaerit Nemo, sed oportet habere."--JUV.

[D] I understand that Thompson has written a long letter, complaining of my not having given any maxim or hint on this important point. I beg leave here to apologise for the omission; and I have no hesitation in advising him, if he should ever put his rod together again, not to omit taking it to pieces as soon as he has done fishing.

[E] Piscium et summa genus haesit ulmo.--HOR.

MAXIMS AND HINTS

FOR A

CHESS PLAYER.

"_Lorsque je veux, sans y faire semblant, me livrer aux meditations d'une douce philosophie, je vais a la peche. Ma longue experience me tient en garde contre les inconveniens d'une mauvaise pratique; et je jouis de mon succes, qu'aucun jaloux ne vient troubler. Ma peche finie, eh bien! je rentre dans le mouvement de la vie, je fais ma partie d'echecs; je triomphe, mon sang circule; je suis battu, mais je me releve._"--TACTIQUE DES RECREATIONS.

MAXIMS AND HINTS

FOR A

CHESS PLAYER.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

I.

WIN as often as you can, but never make any display of insulting joy on the occasion. When you cannot win--lose (though you may not like it) with good temper.

II.

If your adversary, after you have won a game, wishes to prove that you have done so in consequence of some fault of his rather than by your own good play, you need not enter into much argument on the subject, whilst he is explaining to the by-standers the mode by which he might have won the game, _but did not_.

III.

Nor need you make yourself uneasy if your adversary should console himself by pointing out a mode by which you might have won the game in a shorter and more masterly manner. Listen patiently to his explanation--it cannot prove that your way was not good enough. _Tous les chemins sont bons qui menent a la victoire._

IV.

When you are playing with an opponent whom you feel sure that you can master, do not insult him by saying that you consider him a stronger player than yourself,--but that perhaps particular circ.u.mstances may prevent him from playing with his usual force to-day, &c. &c. Men usually play as well as they can: they are glad when they win, and sorry when they lose.