CHAP. I.
Piscator Junior & Viator.

You are happily overta­ken Sir; may a man be so bold as to enquire how far you travel this way?

Yes sure Sir very free­ly; though it be a question I can­not very well resolve you; as not knowing my self how far it is to Ashborn, where I in­tend to night to take up my Inn.

Why then Sir, seeing I perceive you [Page 2] to be a Stranger in these parts; I shall take up­on me to inform you, that from the Town you last came through, call'd Brelsford, it is five miles, and you are not yet above half a mile on this side.

So much! I was told it was but ten miles from Derby, and methinks I have rode almost so far already.

O Sir, find no fault with large mea­sure of good Land, which Derby-shire abounds in, as much as most Counties of England.

It may be so, and good Land I confess affords a pleasant prospect: but by your good leave Sir, large measure of foul way is not al­together so acceptable.

True Sir, but the foul way serves to justifie the fertility of the soyl; according to the Proverb: There is good Land, where there is foul way; and is of good use to inform you of the Riches of the Country you are come into, and of its continual Travel, and Traffick to the Country Town you came from; which is also very observable by the fulness of its Road, and the loaden Horses you meet every where upon the way.

well Sir, I will be content to think as well of your Country, as you would desire, and I shall have a great deal of reason both to think, and to speak very well of you, If I may obtain the happiness of your company to the [Page 3] forementioned place, provided your affaire lead you that way, and that they will permit you to slack your pace out of complacency to a Traveller utterly a Stranger in these parts, and who am still to wander further out of my own knowledg.

Sir, you invite me to my own ad­vantage, and I am ready to attend you: my way lying through that Town; but my bu­siness, that is, my home, some miles beyond it: however I shall have time enough to lodg you in your Quarters, and afterwards to perform my own Journey. In the mean time may I be so bold as to enquire the end of your Jour­ney.

'Tis into Lancashire Sir, and about some business of concern to a near Relation of mine: for I assure you, I do not use to take so long Journeys, as from Essex upon the single account of pleasure.

From thence Sir! I do not then won­der you should appear dissatisfied with the length of the Miles, and the foulness of the way: though I am sorry you should begin to quarrel with them so soon; for, believe me Sir, you will find the Miles much longer, and the way much worse before you come to your Journies end.

Why truly Sir for that, I am prepar'd to expect the worst; but methinks the way is [Page 4] mended since I had the good fortune to fall in­to your good company.

You are not oblig'd to my company for that: but because you are already past the worst, and the greatest part of your way to your Lodging.

I am very glad to hear it, both for the ease of my self, and my Horse; but espe­cially because I may then expect a freer en­joyment of your conversation; though the shortness of the way will, I fear, make me lose it the sooner.

That Sir is not worth your care; and I am sure you deserve much better, for being content with so ill company: but we have al­ready talkt away two Miles of your Journey; for from the Brook before us, that runs at the foot of this Sandy Hill, you have but three Miles to Ashborn.

I meet every where in this Country with these little Brooks, and they look as if they were full of Fish; have they not Trouts in them?

That is a question, which is to be excus'd in a Stranger as you are; otherwise, give me leave to tell you, it would seem a kind of affront to our Country, to make a doubt of what we pretend to be famous for, next, if not before, our Malt, Wool, Lead, and Cole; for you are to understand, that we think we have [Page 5] as many fine Rivers, Rivulets, and Brooks, as any Country whatever, and they are all full of Trouts, and some of them the best (it is said) by many degrees in England.

I was first Sir in love with you, and now shall be so enamour'd of your Country by this account you give me of it, as to wish my self a Derby-shire Man, or at least that I might live in it: for you must know I am a pretender to the Angle, and doubtless a Trout affords the most pleasure to the Angler, of any sort of Fish whatever; and the best Trouts, must needs make the best sport: But this Brook, and some others I have met with upon this way, are too full of Wood for that recreati­on.

This Sir! why this, and several o­thers like it, which you have past, and some that you are like to pass, have scarce any name amongst us: but we can shew you as fine Ri­vers, and as clear from wood, or any other encumbrance to hinder an Angler, as any you ever saw; and for clear, beautiful streams, Hantshire it self, by Mr. Izaak Walton's good leave, can shew none such; nor I think and Country in Europe.

You go far Sir in the praise of your Country Rivers, and I perceive have read Mr Walton's Compleat Angler by your naming of Hantshire, and I pray what is your opinion of that Book?

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My Opinion of Mr. Walton's Book is the same with every Man's, that understands any thing of the Art of Angling, that it is an excellent good one, and that the forementio­ned Gentleman understands as much of Fish, and Fishing as any Man living: but I must tell you further, that I have the happiness to know his person, and to be intimately acquainted with him, and in him to know the worthiest Man, and to enjoy the best, and the truest Friend any Man ever had: nay, I shall yet acquaint you further, that he gives me leave to call him Fa­ther, and I hope is not yet asham'd to own me for his adopted Son.

In earnest Sir I am ravisht to meet with a friend of Mr. Izaak Walton's, and one that does him so much right in so good and true a Character; for I must boast to you, that I have the good fortune to know him too, and came acquainted with him much after the same manner I do with you; that he was my Master who first taught me to love Angling, and then to become an Angler; and to be plain with you, I am the very Man decipher'd in his Book under the name of Venator, for I was wholly addicted to the Chace; till he taught me as good, a more quiet, innocent, and less dan­gerous diversion.

Sir, I think my self happy in your acquaintance, and before we part shall entreat [Page 7] leave to embrace you; you have said enough to recommend you to my best opinion; for my Father Walton will be seen twice in no Man's company he does not like, and likes none but such as he believes to be very honest men, which is one of the best Arguments, or at least of the best Testimonies I have, that I either am, or that he thinks me one of those, seeing I have not yet found him weary of me.

You speak like a true Friend, and in doing so render your self worthy of his friend­ship. May I be so bold as to ask your name?

Yes surely Sir, and if you please a much nicer question, my name is—and I intend to stay long enough in your company, if I find you do not dislike mine, to ask yours too. In the mean time, because we are now almost at Ashborn, I shall freely, and bluntly tell you, that I am a Brother of the Angle too, and peradventure can give you some instructi­ons how to Angle for a Trout in a clear River, that my Father Walton himself will not disap­prove, though he did either purposely omit, or did not remember them, when you, and he sate discoursing under the Sycamore Tree. And being you have already told me whether your Journey is intended, and that I am better ac­quainted with the Country than you are; I will heartily, and earnestly entreat, you will not think of staying at this Town: but go on with [Page 8] me six Miles further to my House, where you shall be extreamly welcom; it is directly in your way, we have day enough to perform our Jour­ney, & as you like your entertainment, you may there repose your self a day or two; or as many more as your occasions will permit, to recom­pence the trouble of so much a longer Journey.

Sir, you surprise me with so friendly an invitation upon so short acquaintance: but how advantagious soever it would be to me, and that my hast perhaps is not so great, but it might dispense with such a divertisement as I promise my self in your Company; yet I can­not in modesty accept your offer, & must there­fore beg your pardon: I could otherwise, I confess be glad to wait upon you, if upon no other ac­count but to talk of Mr. I. Walton, and to receive those instructions you say you are able to give me for the deceiving a Trout; in which art I will not deny, but that I have an ambition to be one of the greatest deceivers; though I can­not forbear freely to tell you, that I think it hard to say much more, than has been read to me upon that subject.

well Sir, I grant that too; but you must know that the variety of Rivers, require different ways of Angling: however you shall have the best Rules I am able to give, and I will tell you nothing I have not made my self as certain of, as any Man can be in thirty years [Page 9] experience (for so long I have been a dabler in that art) and that if you please to stay a few days, you shall not in a very great measure see made good to you. But of that hereafter, and now, Sir, if I am not mistaken I have half overcome you; and that I may wholly conquer that modesty of yours, I will take up­on me to be so familiar as to say, you must ac­cept my invitation, which that you may the more easily be perswaded to do, I will tell you that my House stands upon the margin of one of the finest Rivers for Trouts, and grayling in England; that I have lately built a little Fishing House upon it, dedicated to Anglers, over the door of which you will see the two first Letters of my Father Walton's name and mine twisted in Cypher; as in the Title page. that you shall lye in the same Bed he has sometimes been contented with, and have such Country entertainment, as my Friends sometimes accept, and be as welcome too, as the best Friend of them all.

No doubt Sir, but my Master Walton found good reason to be satisfied with his enter­tainment in your House; for you who are so friendly to a meer Stranger who deserves so little, must needs be exceedingly kind and free to him who deserves so much.

Believe me, no! and such as are inti­mately acquainted with that Gentleman, know [Page 10] him to be a Man, who will not endure to be treated like a Stranger. So that his acceptation of my poor entertainments, has ever been a pure effect of his own humility, and good na­ture, and nothing else. But Sir, we are now going down the Spittle Hill into the Town, and therefore let me importune you suddainly to resolve, and most earnestly not to deny me.

In truth Sir, I am so overcome by your Bounty, that I find I cannot, but must ren­der my self wholly to be dispos'd by you.

Why that's heartily, and kindly spo­ken, and I as heartily thank you; and being you have abandon'd your self to my conduct, we will only call and drink a glass on Horse­back at the Talbot, and away.

I attend you, but what pretty River is this, that runs under this Stone-Bridg? has it a name?

Yes, 'Tis call'd Henmore, and has in it both Trout, and Grayling; but you will meet with one or two better anon. And so soon as we are past through the Town, I will endea­vour by such discourse as best likes you to pass away the time, till you come to your ill Quar­ters.

we can talk of nothing with which I shall be more delighted than of Rivers and Angling.

Let those be the Subjects then, but [Page 11] we are now come to the Talbot, what will you drink Sir, Ale, or Wine.

Nay, I am for the Country liquor, Derby-shire Ale, if you please; for a Man should not methinks come from London to drink Wine in the Peak.

You are in the right; and yet let me tell you, you may drink worse French-wine in many Taverns in London, than they have sometimes at this House. What hoe! bring us a Flaggon of your best Ale, and now Sir my service to you, a good health to the honest Gentleman you know of, and you are welcome into the Peak.

I thank you Sir, and present you my service again, and to all the honest Brothers of the Angle.

I'le pledg you Sir, so, there's for your Ale, and farewell. Come Sir, let us be going; for the sun grows low, and I would have you look about you as you ride; for you will see an odd Country, and sights, that will seem strange to you.

CHAP. II.

So Sir, now we are got to the top of the Hill out of Town, look about you, and tell me how you like the Coun­try.

Bless me! what Mountains are here! are we not in Wales?

No, but in almost as Mountainous a Country, and yet these Hills though high, bleak, and craggy, breed and feed good Beef, and Mutton above ground, and afford good store of Lead within.

They had need of all those commodi­ties to make amends for the ill Land-schape: But I hope our way does not lye over any of these; for I dread a Precipice.

Believe me but it does, and down one especially, that will appear a little terrible to a Stranger: though the way is passable e­nough, and so passable, that we who are Na­tives of these Mountains, and acquainted with them, disdain to alight.

I hope though that a Forraigner is pri­viledged to use his own discretion, and that I may have the liberty to entrust my neck to the fidelity of my own feet, rather than to those of my Horse; for I have no more at home.

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'Twere hard else. But in the mean time I think 'twere best while this way is pret­ty even, to mend our pace, that we may be past that Hill I speak of, to the end your appre­hension may not be doubled for want of light to discern the easiness of the descent.

I am willing to put forward as fast as my Beast will give me leave; though I fear nothing in your Company. But what pretty River is this we are going into?

Why this Sir is called Bently Brook, and is full of very good Trout, and Grayling; but so encumbred with wood in many places, as is troublesom to an Angler.

Here are the prettiest Rivers, and the most of them in this Country that ever I saw; do you know how many you have in the Coun­try?

I know them all, and they were not hard to reckon, were it worth the trouble; but the most considerable of them I will pre­sently name you. And to begin where we now are (for you must know we are now upon the very skirts of Derby-shire) we have first the River Dove, that we shall come to by and by, which divides the two Counties of Derby, and Stafford for many Miles together, and is so call'd from the swiftness of its current, and that swiftness occasion'd by the declivity of its course, and by being so straitned in that course [Page 14] betwixt the Rocks; by which, and those very high ones, it is hereabout for four, or five Miles confin'd into a very narrow stream. A River that from a contemptible Fountain (which I can cover with my Hat) by the con­fluence of other Rivers, Rivulets, Brooks, and Rills, is swell'd, (before it fall into Trent a little below Egginton, (where it loses the name,) to such a breadth, and depth, as to be in most places navigable, were not the passage frequently interrupted with Fords, and Wires, and has as fertile Bancks, as any River in Eng­land, none excepted. And this River from its head for a Mile or two is a black water (as all the rest of the Derby-shire Rivers of note, o­riginally are, for they all spring from the Mosses) but is in a few Miles travel so clarified by the addition of several clear, and very great springs (bigger than it self) which gush out of the Lime-stone Rocks, that before it comes to my House, which is but six, or seven Miles from its source, you will find it one of the purest Chry­stalline streams you have seen.

does Trent spring in these parts?

Yes in these parts; not in this Coun­ty, but somewhere towards the upper end of Stafford-shire, I think not far from a place call'd Trentham, and thence runs down not far from Stafford to Wolsly Bridg, and washing the skirts and purlews of the Forrest of Needwood runs [Page 15] down to Burton in the same County; thence it comes into this where we now are, and run­ning by Swarkston, and Dunnington, receives Derwent at Wildon, and so to Nottingham, thence to Newark, and by Gainsborough, to Kingston upon Hull, where it takes the name of Humber, and thence falls into the Sea: but that the Map will best inform you.

Know you whence this River Trent derives its name?

No indeed, and yet I have heard it often discourst upon, when some have given its denomination from the forenamed Trentham; though that seems rather a derivative from it; others have said 'tis so call'd from thirty Ri­vers that fall into it, and there lose their names, which cannot be neither, because it carries that name from its very Fountain, before any other Rivers fall into it; others derive it from thirty several sorts of Fish that breed there, and that is the most likely derivation: But be it how it will, it is doubtless one of the finest Rivers in the World, and the most abounding with ex­cellent Salmon, and all sorts of delicate Fish.

Pardon me Sir for tempting you into this digression, and then proceed to your other Rivers; for I am mightily delighted with this discourse.

It was no interruption, but a very [Page 16] seasonable question; for Trent is not only one of our Derby-shire Rivers, but the chief of them, and into which all the rest pay the Tribute of their names; which I had perhaps forgot to insist upon, being got to the other end of the County, had you not awoke my memory. But I will now proceed, and the next River of note (for I will take them as they lye Eastward from us) is the River Wye; I say of note, for we have two lesser betwixt us and it, namely Lathkin, and Bradford, of which Lathkin is by many degrees the purest, and most transpa­rent stream, that I ever yet saw either at home or abroad, and breeds 'tis said, the reddest, and the best Trouts in England; but neither of these are to be reputed Rivers, being no better than great springs. The River Wye then has its source near unto Buxtons, a Town some ten Miles from hence, famous for a warm Bath, and which you are to ride through in your way to Manchester, a black water too at the Fountain; but by the same reason with Dove, becomes ve­ry soon a most delicate clear River, and breeds admirable Trout, and Grayling, reputed by those, who, by living upon its Banks are par­tial to it, the best of any, and this, running down by Ashford, Bakewell, and Haddon; at a Town a little lower call'd Rowsly falls into Derwent, and there loses its name. The next in order is Derwent a black water too, and that not only [Page 17] from its Fountain, but quite through its pro­gress, not having these Chrystal springs to wash and cleanse it, which the two forementioned have; but abounds with Trout and Grayling (such as they are) towards its source, and with Salmon below; and this River from the upper and utmost part of this County, where it springs, taking its course by Chatsworth, Darly, Matlock, Derby, Burrow-Ash, and Awberson, falls into Trent at a place call'd Wildon, and there loses its name. The East side of this County of Derby is bounded by little inconsiderable Rivers, as Awber, Eroways, and the like, scarce worth naming, but Trouty too, and further we are not to enquire. But Sir I have carried you, as a Man may say by water, till we are now come to the descent of the formidable Hill I told you of, at the foot of which runs the River Dove, which I cannot but love above all the rest, and therefore pre­pare your self to be a little frighted.

Sir, I see you would fortifie me, that I should not shame my self: but I dare follow where you please to lead me, and I see no dan­ger yet; for the descent methinks is thus far green, even, and easy.

You will like it worse presently when you come to the brow of the Hill, and now we are there, what think you?

What do I think? why I think [Page 18] it the strangest place that ever sure Men, and Horses went down, and that (if there be any safety at all) the safest way is to alight.

I think so too for you, who are mount­ed upon a Beast not acquainted with these slip­pery stones; and though I frequently ride down, I will alight too to bear you company, and to lead you the way, and if you please my Man shall lead your Horse.

Marry Sir, and thank you too, for I am afraid I shall have enough to do to look to my self; and with my Horse in my hand should be in a double fear, both of breaking my neck, and my Horse's falling on me, for it is as steep as a penthouse.

To look down from hence it appears so, I confess, but the path winds and turns, and will not be found so troublesom.

Would I were well down though! Hoist thee! there's one fair scape! these stones are so slippery I cannot stand! yet again! I think I were best lay my heeles in my neck, and tum­ble down.

If you think your heeles will defend your neck, that is the way to be soon at the bottom; but give me your hand at this broad stone, and then the worst is past.

I thank you Sir, I am now past it, I can go my self. What's here the sign of a Bridg? Do you use to Travel with wheel-bar­rows in this Country?

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Not that I ever saw Sir, why do you ask that question?

Because this Bridg certainly was made for nothing else; why a mouse can hardly go o­ver it: 'Tis not two fingers broad.

You are pleasant, and I am glad to see you so: but I have rid over the Bridg many a dark night.

Why according to the French proverb, and 'tis a good one among a great many of worse sense and sound that language abounds in, Ce que Diu garde, est bien gardé. They, whom God takes care of are in safe protection: but, let me tell you, I would not ride over it for a thousand pounds, nor fall off it for two; and yet I think I dare venture on foot, though if you were not by to laugh at me: I should do it on all four.

Well Sir, your mirth becomes you, and I am glad to see you safe over, and now you are welcome into Stafford-shire.

How Stafford-shire! what do I there trow! there is not a word of Stafford-shire in all my direction.

You see you are betray'd into it; but it shall be in order to something that will make amends; and 'tis but an ill Mile or two out of your way.

I believe all things Sir, and doubt no­thing. Is this your beloved River Dove. 'Tis [Page 20] clear, and swift indeed, but a very little one.

You see it here at the worst; we shall come to it anon again after two Miles riding, and so near as to lye upon the very Banks.

Would we were there once; but I hope we have no more of these Alpes to pass o­ver.

No, no Sir, only this ascent before you, which you see is not very uneasy, and then you will no more quarrel with your way.

Well, if ever I come to London (of which many a Man there, if he were in my place would make a question;) I will sit down and write my Travels, and like Tom Coriate print them at my own charge. Pray what do you call this Hill we come down?

We call it Hanson Toot.

Why farewell Hanson Toot, I'le no more on thee; I'le go twenty Miles about first: Push. I sweat, that my shirt sticks to my back.

Come Sir, now we are up the Hill, and now how do you?

Why very well I humbly thank you Sir, and warm enough I assure you. What have we here, a Church! As I'me an honest Man a very pretty Church! Have you Churches in this Country Sir?

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You see we have: but had you seen none, why should you make that doubt Sir?

Why, if you will not be angry, I'le tell you, I thought my self a Stage, or two be­yond Christendom.

Come, come, wee'l reconcile you to our Country before we part with you; if shewing you good sport with Angling will do't.

My respect to you, and that together may do much Sir; otherwise, to be plain with you, I do not find my self much inclin'd that way.

Well Sir, your raillery upon our Moun­tains has brought us almost home; and look you where the same River of Dove has again met us to bid you welcome, and to invite you to a dish of Trouts to morrow.

Is this the same we saw at the foot of Penmen-Maure? It is much a finer River here.

It will appear yet much finer to morrow. But look you Sir here appears the House, that is now like to be your Inn, for want of a better.

It appears on a suddain, but not before 'twas lookt for, it stands prettily, and here's vvood about it too, but so young, as appears to be of your ovvn planting.

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It is so, vvill it please you to alight Sir; and novv permit me after all your pains and dangers to take you in my arms, and to assure you, that you are infinitely vvelcome.

I thank you Sir, and am glad with all my heart I am here, for, in down right truth, I am exceeding weary.

You will sleep so much the better; you shall presently have a light supper, and to bed. Come, Sirs, lay the Cloth, and bring what you have presently, and let the Gentle­man's Bed be made ready in the mean time in my Father Waltons Chamber; and now Sir here is my service to you, and once more welcome.

I marry Sir this glass of good Sack has refresht me, and I'le make as bold with your meat; for the Trot has got me a good stomach.

Come Sir fall to then, you see my lit­tle supper is always ready when I come home, and I'le make no Stranger of you.

That your Meal is so soon ready is a sign your Servants know your certain hours, Sir; I confess I did not expect it so soon; but now 'tis here, you shall see I will make my self no Stranger.

Much good do your heart, and I thank you for that friendly word: and now Sir my service to you in a Cup of More-Lands Ale: [Page 23] for you are now in the More-Lands, but within a spit, and a stride of the peak; fill my Friend his Glass.

Believe me you have good Ale in the More-Lands; far better than that at Ash­born.

That it may soon be: for Ashborn has (which is a kind of a Riddle) always in it the best Mault, and the worst Ale in England. Come take away, and bring us some pipes, and a bottle of Ale, and go to your own Suppers. Are you for this diet Sir?

Yes Sir, I am for one pipe of Tobac­co; and I perceive yours is very good by the smell.

The best I can get in London I assure you: But Sir, now you have thus far comply'd with my designs, as to take a troublesom Jour­ney into an ill Country, only to satisfie me; how long may I hope to enjoy you?

Why truly Sir, as long as I conveni­ently can; and longer I think you would not have me.

Not to your inconvenience by any means Sir, but I see you are weary, and there­fore I will presently wait on you to your Cham­ber, where take Counsel of your pillow, and to morrow resolve me. Here take the lights, and pray follow them, Sir; Here you are like to lye, and now I have shew'd you [Page 24] your Lodging, I beseech you command any thing you want, and so I wish you good rest.

Good night Sir.

CHAP. III.

Good morrow Sir, what up and drest so early?

Yes Sir, I have been drest this half hour; for I rested so well, and have so great a mind either to take, or to see a Trout taken in your fine River, that I could no longer lye a bed.

I am glad to see you so brisk this mor­ning, and so eager of sport; though I must tell you, this day proves so calm, and the Sun rises so bright, as promises no great success to the Angler: but however we'l try, and one way or other we shall sure do something. What will you have to your breakfast, or what will you drink this Morning.

For Breakfast I never eat any, and for Drink am very indifferent; but if you please to call for a Glass of Ale, I'me for you; and let it be quickly if you please: for I long to see the little Fishing-house you spoke of, and to be at my Lesson.

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Well Sir, You see the Ale is come with­out Calling; for though I do not know yours, my people know my diet, which is always one Glass so soon as I am drest, and no more till Dinner, and so my Servants have served you.

My thanks, and now if you please let us look out this fine morning.

With all my heart, Boy take the Key of my Fishing-house, and carry down those two Angle-Rods in the Hall window thither, with my Fish-pannier, Pouch, and landing Net, and stay you there till we come. Come Sir we'l walk after, where by the way I expect you should raise all the exceptions against our Country you can.

Nay Sir, do not think me so ill natur'd, nor so uncivil, I only made a little bold with it last night to divert you, and was only in jeast.

You were then in as good earnest as I am now with you: but had you been really angry at it, I could not blame you: For, to say the truth, it is not very taking at first sight: But look you, Sir, now you are abroad, does not the Sun shine as bright here as in Essex, Middlesex, or Kent, or any of your Southern Coun­tries?

'Tis a delicate Morning indeed, and I now think this a marvellous pretty place.

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Whether you think so or no, you cannot oblige me more than to say so; and those of my friends who know my humour, and are so kind as to comply with it, usually flatter me that way. But look you Sir, now you are at the brink of the Hill, how do you like my Ri­ver, the Vale it winds through like a Snake, and the scituation of my little Fishing-house?

Trust me 'tis all very fine, and the house seems at this distance a neat building.

Good enough for that purpose; and here is a bowling Green too, close by it, so though I am my self no very good bowler, I am not totally devoted to my own pleasure; but that I have also some regard to other men's. And now Sir you are come to the door, pray walk in, and there we will sit, and talk as long as you please.

Stay, what's here over the door? Pis­catoribus sacrum. There is under this Motto, the Cifer mentioned in the Title Page and some part of the Fish­ing-house has been discrib'd; but, the pleasant­ness of the Ri­ver, Mountains, and Meadows about it, cannot; unless Sir Philip Sidney, or Mr. Cotton's Father were again alive to do it. Why then I perceive I have some Title here, for I am one of them, though one of the worst, and here below it is the Cifer too you spoke of, and 'tis prettily contriv'd. Has my Master Walton ever been here to see it; for it seems new built?

[Page 27]

Yes he saw it cut in the stone before it was set up; but never in the posture it now stands: for the house was but building when he was last here, and not rais'd so high as the Arch of the dore, and I am afraid he will not see it yet; for he has lately writ me word he doubts his coming down this Summer, which I do assure you was the worst news he could pos­sibly have sent me.

Men must sometimes mind their af­fairs to make more room for their pleasures; and 'tis odds he is as much displeas'd with the business, that keeps him from you, as you are that he comes not. But I am the most pleased with this little house of any thing I ever saw: It stands in a kind of Peninsula too, with a de­licate clear River about it. I dare hardly go in, lest I should not like it so well within as without; but by your leave, I'le try. Why, this is better and better, fine lights, finely wainsco­ted, and all exceeding neat, with a Marble Ta­ble and all in the middle!

Enough, Sir, enough, I have laid open to you the part where I can worst defend my self, and now you attaque me there. Come Boy set two Chairs, and whilst I am taking a Pipe of Tobacco, which is alwaies my Break­fast, we will, if you please, talk of some other Subject.

[Page 28]

None fitter then Sir for the time and place, than those Instructions you promis'd.

I begin to doubt, by something I discover in you, whether I am able to instruct you, or no; though, if you are really a stranger to our clear Northern Rivers I still think I can; and there­fore, since it is yet too early in the morning at this time of the year, to day being but the Se­venth of March, to cast a Flie upon the water, if you will direct me what kind of Fishing for a Trout I shall read you a Lecture on, I am wil­ling and ready to obey you.

Why Sir, if you will so far oblige me, and that it may not be too troublesome to you, I would entreat you would run through the whole body of it; and I will not conceal from you, that I am so far in love with you, your courtesie, and pretty Moreland Seat, as to re­solve to stay with you long enough by Inter­vals (for I will not oppress you) to hear all you can say upon that Subject.

You cannot oblige me more than by such a promise, and therefore without more Ceremony I will begin to tell you; that my Father Walton having read to you before, it would look like a presumption in me, and per­adventure would do so in any other man, to pretend to give Lessons for angling after him, who I do really believe understands as much of it, at least as any man in England, did I not pre-acquaint [Page 29] you, that I am not tempted to it by any vain opinion of my self, that I am able to give you better directions; but having from my Childhood pursued the recrea­tion of angling in very clear Rivers (truly I think by much (some of them at least) the clea­rest in this Kingdom) and the manner of Ang­ling here with us by reason of that exceeding clearness, being something different from the method commonly us'd in others, which by be­ing not near so bright, admit of stronger tac­kle, and allow a nearer approach to the stream; I may peradventure give you some Instructi­ons, that may be of use even in your own Ri­vers, and shall bring you acquainted with more Flies, and shew you how to make them, and with what dubbing too, than he has taken no­tice of in his Compleat Angler.

I beseech you Sir do, and if you will lend me your Steel, I will light a Pipe the while, for that is commonly my Breakfast in a morning too.

CHAP. IV.

Why then Sir, to begin methodically, as a Master in any Art should do (and I will not deny, but that I think my self a Ma­ster in this) I shall divide Angling for Trout or Grayling into these three ways,

• At the Top,
• At the bottom, and
• In the Middle.

Which three ways, though they are all of them (as I shall hereafter endeavour to make it appear) in some sort common to both those kinds of Fish; yet are they not so generally and absolutely so, but that they will necessarily re­quire a distinction, which in due place I will also give you.

• That whicb we call Angling at the top, is with a Flie;
• At the bottom with a ground-bait.
• In the middle with a Minnow, or Ground-bait.

[Page 31] Angling at the Top is of two sorts,

• With a quick Flie: or,
• With an artificial Flie.

That we call Angling at the bottom is also of two sorts,

• By hand: or
• With a Cork, or Float.

That we call Angling in the middle is also of two sorts.

• With a Minnow for a Trout: or
• With a Ground-bait for a Grayling.

Of all which several sorts of Angling, I will, if you can have the patience to hear me, give you the best account I can.

The trouble will be yours, and mine the pleasure and the obligation: I beseech you therefore to proceed.

Why then first of Flie-Fishing.

CHAP. V.
Of Flie-Fishing.

Flie-Fishing or Fishing at the top, is, as I said before, of two sorts,

• With a natural and living Flie: or,
• With an artificial and made Flie.

First then of the natural Flie; of which we generally use but two sorts, and those but in the two months of May and June only, name­ly the Green Drake, and the Stone-Flies; though I have made use of a third that way, called the Chamblet-Flie with very good success for Gray­ling, but never saw it angled with by any o­ther after this manner, my Master only excep­ted, who did many years ago, and was one of the best Anglers, that ever I knew.

These are to be angled with, with a short Line, not much more than half the length of your Rod, if the air be still, or with a longer very near, or all out as long as your Rod, if you have any wind to carry it from you, and this way of Fishing we call Daping, Dabbing or Dib­ling, wherein you are always to have your [Page 33] Line flying before you up or down the River as the wind serves, and to angle as near as you can to the bank of the same side whereon you stand, though where you see a Fish rise near you, you may guide your quick Flie over him, whether in the middle, or on the contrary side, and if you are pretty well out of sight, either by kneeling, or the Interposition of a bank, or bush, you may almost be sure to raise, and take him too, if it be presently done; the Fish will other­wise peradventure be remov'd to some other place, if it be in the still deeps, where he is al­ways in motion, and roving up and down to look for prey, though in a stream, you may al­waies almost, especially if there be a good stone near, find him in the same place. Your Line ought in this Case to be three good hairs next the hook, both by reason you are in this kind of angling, to expect the biggest Fish, and also that wanting length to give him Line after he is struck, you must be forc't to tugg for't; to which I will also add, that not an Inch of your Line being to be suffered to touch the water in dibbling; it may be allow'd to be the stronger. I should now give you a De­scription of those Flies, their shape and colour, and then give you an account of their breed­ing, and withal shew you how to keep and use them; but shall defer that to their proper place and season.

[Page 34]

In earnest, Sir, you discourse very rati­onally of this affair, and I am glad to find my self mistaken in you; for in plain truth I did not expect so much from you.

Nay Sir, I can tell you a great deal more than this, and will conceal nothing from you. But I must now come to the second way of angling at the top, which is with an arti­ficial Flie, which also I will shew you how to make before I have done, but first shall ac­quaint you, that with this you are to angle with a Line longer by a yard and a half, or some­times two yards than your Rod, and with both this, and the other in a still day in the streams, in a breeze, that curles the water in the still deeps, where (excepting in May and June, that the best Trouts will lye in shallow streams to watch for prey, and even then too) you are like to hit the best Fish.

For the length of your Rod you are always to be govern'd by the breadth of the River you shall chuse to angle at; and for a Trout Ri­ver, one of five or six yards long is common­ly enough, and longer (though never so neatly and artificially made) it ought not to be, if you intend to Fish at ease, and if otherwise, where lies the sport?

Of these, the best that ever I saw are made in York-shire, which are all of one piece; that is to say, of several, six, eight, ten or [Page 35] twelve pieces, so neatly piec't, and ty'd together with fine thred below, and Silk above, as to make it taper, like a switch, and to ply with a true bent to your hand; and these are too light, being made of Fir wood, for two or three lengths, nearest to the hand, and of o­ther wood nearer to the top, that a Man might very easily manage the longest of them that e­ver I saw, with one hand; and these when you have given over Angling for a season, being taken to pieces, and laid up in some dry place, may afterwards be set together again in their former postures, and will be as strait, sound, and good as the first hour they were made, and being laid in Oyl and colour ac­cording to your Master Waltons direction, will last many years.

The length of your line, to a Man that knows how to handle his Rod, and to cast it, is no manner of encumbrance, excepting in woody places, and in landing of a Fish, which every one that can afford to Angle for pleasure, has some body to do for him, and the length of line is a mighty advantage to the fishing at distance; and to fish fine, and far off is the first and principal Rule for Trout Angling.

Your Line in this case should never be less, nor ever exceed two hairs next to the hook, for one (though some I know will pretend to more Art, than their fellows) is indeed too [Page 36] few, the least accident, with the finest hand being sufficient to break it: but he that cannot kill a Trout of twenty inches long with two, in a River clear of wood and weeds, as this and some others of ours are, deserves not the name of an Angler.

Now to have your whole line as it ought to be, two of the first lengths, nearest the hook, should be of two hairs a piece, the next three lengths above them of three, the next three above them of four, and so of five, and six, and seven, to the very top: by which means your Rod and tackle will in a manner be taper from your very hand to your hook; your line will fall much better and straiter, and cast your Flie to any certain place to which the hand and eye shall direct it, with less weight and violence, that would otherwise circle the wa­ter, and fright away the fish.

In casting your line, do it always before you, and so that your flie may first fall upon the wa­ter, and as little of your line with it as is possible, though if the vvind be stiff, you will then of necessity be compell'd to drown a good part of your line to keep your flie in the water: and in casting your flie, you must aim at the further, or nearer Bank, as the wind serves your turn, which also vvill be with, and a­gainst you on the same side several times in an hour, as the River vvinds in its course, and [Page 37] you will be forc't to Angle up and down by turns accordingly; but are to endeavour, as much as you can, to have the wind evermore on your back, and always be sure to stand as far off the Bank as your length will give you leave when you throw to the contrary side, though when the wind will not permit you so to do, and that you are constrain'd to Angle on the same side whereon you stand, you must then stand on the very brink of the River, and cast your Flie at the utmost length of your Rod and Line, up or down the River as the gale serves.

It only remains, touching your Line, to enquire whether your two hairs next to the hook, are better twisted, or open; and for that, I should declare that I think the open way the better, because it makes less shew in the water, but that I have found an inconve­nience, or two, or three, that have made me almost weary of that way; of which one is, that without dispute they are not so strong twisted, as open; another, that they are not easily to be fastned of so exact an equal length in the arming, that the one will not cause the other to bagge, by which means a Man has but one hair, upon the matter, to trust to; and the last is, that these loose flying hairs are not only more apt to catch upon every twig, or bent they meet with; but moreover the [Page 38] hook, in falling upon the water, will very of­ten rebound, and fly back betwixt the hairs, and there stick (which in a rough water espe­cially, is not presently to be discern'd by the Angler) so as the point of the hook shall stand revers't, by which means your Flie swims backward, makes a much greater circle in the water, and till taken home to you, and set right, will never raise any Fish, or if it should, I am sure, but by a very extraordinary chance, can hit none.

Having done with both these ways of fishing at the top; the length of your Rod, and Line and all: I am next to teach you how to make a Flie; and afterwards of what dubbing you are to make the several Flies I shall hereafter name to you.

In making a Flie then (which is not a Hackle or Palmer Flie for of those, and their several kinds we shall have occasion to speak every Month in the Year) you are first to hold your hook fast betwixt the fore finger and thumb of your left hand, with the back of the shanck upwards, and the point towards your fingers end; then take a strong small silk of the colour of the Flie you intend to make, wax it well with wax of the same colour too (to which end you are always (by the way) to have wax of all colours about you) and draw it betwixt your finger and thumb, to the head [Page 39] of the shanck, and then whip it twice or thrice about the bare hook, which, you must know, is done, both to prevent slipping, and also that the shanck of the hook may not cut the hairs of your Towght, which sometimes it will otherwise do) which being done, take your Line, and draw it likewise betwixt your finger and thumb, holding the Hook so fast, as only to suffer it to pass by, untill you have the knot of your Towght almost to the mid­dle of the shanck of your hook, on the inside of it, then whip your silk twice or thrice a­bout both hook and Line, as hard as the strength of the silk will permit, which being done, strip the feather for the wings proportionable to the bigness of your Flie, placing that side down­wards, which grew uppermost before, upon the back of the hook, leaving so much only as to serve for the length of the wing of the point of the plume, lying revers't from the end of the shanck upwards, then whip your silk twice, or thrice about the root end of the fea­ther, hook, and towght, which being done clip off the root end of the feather close by the arming, and then whip the silk fast and firm a­bout the hook, and tought untill you come to the bend of the hook: but not further (as you do at London; and so make a very un­handsom, and, in plain English, a very unnatural and shapeless Flie) which being done, cut [Page 40] away the end of your tought, and fasten it, and then take your dubbing which is to make the body of your Flie, as much as you think con­venient, and holding it lightly, with your hook, betwixt the finger, and thumb of your left hand, take your silk with the right, and twisting it betwixt the finger and thumb of that hand, the dubbing will spin it self about the silk, which when it has done, whip it about the arm'd hook backward, till you come to the setting on of the wings; and then take the feather for the wings, and divide it equally into two parts, and turn them back towards the bend of the Hook, the one on the one side, and the other on the other of the shanck, holding them fast in that posture betwixt the fore finger, and thumb of your left hand, which done, warp them so down, as to stand, and slope towards the bend of the hook, and having warpt up to the end of the shanck, hold the Flie fast betwixt the finger and thumb of your left hand, and then take the silk betwixt the finger, and thumb of your right hand, and where the warping ends, pinch or nip it with your thumb nail against your finger, and strip away the remainder of your dubbing from the silk, and then with the bare silk whip it once or twice about, make the wings to stand in due order, fasten, and cut it off; after which with the point of a needle raise up the dubbing [Page 41] gently from the warp, twitch off the super­fluous hairs of your dubbing, leave the wings of an equal length (your Flie will never else swim true) and the work is done. And this vvay of making a Flie (vvhich is certainly the best of all other) vvas taught me by a Kinsman of mine, one Captain Henry Jackson, a near neighbour, an admirable Flie Angler, by many degrees the best Flie maker, that ever I yet met with. And now that I have told you how a Flie is to be made, you shall pre­sently see me make one, vvith vvhich you may peradventure take a Trout this morning, not­vvithstanding the unlikeliness of the day; for it is now nine of the Clock, and Fish vvill begin to rise, if they vvill rise to day; I will vvalk along by you, and look on, and after dinner I vvill proceed in my lecture of Flie-Fishing.

I confess I long to be at the River, and yet I could sit here all day to hear you: but some of the one, and some of the other will do well: and I have a mighty ambition to take a Trout in your River Dove.

I vvarrant you shall: I would not for more, than I will speak of but you should, seeing I have so extoll'd my River to you: nay I vvill keep you here a Month, but you shall have one good day of sport before you go.

You vvill find me I doubt too tracta­ble [Page 42] that vvay; for in good earnest, if business vvould give me leave, and that if it vvere fit, I could find in my heart to stay with you for ever.

I thank you Sir, for that kind expressi­on, and now let me look out my things to make this flie.

CHAP. VI.

Boy, come give me my dubbing bagg here presently; and now Sir, since I find you so honest a man, I will make no scruple to lay open my Treasure before you.

Did every any one see the like! What a heap of Trumpery is here! certainly never an Angler in Europe has his shop half so well furnisht, as you have.

You perhaps may think now, that I rake together this Trumpery, as you call it, for shew only, to the end that such as see it (which are not many I assure you) may think me a great Master in the Art of angling: but let me tell you here are some colours (as con­temptible as they seem here) that are very hard to be got, and scarce any one of them, which [Page 43] if it should be lost, I should not miss, and be concern'd about the loss of it too, once in the year; but look you, Sir, amongst all these I will chuse out these two colours only, of which this is Bears-hair, this darker no great matter what; but I am sure I have kill'd a great deal of Fish with it; and with one or both of these you shall take Trout or Grayling this very day, notwithstanding all disadvantages, or my Art shall fail me.

You promise comfortably, and I have a great deal of reason to believe every thing you say; but I wish the Flie were made, that we were at it.

That will not be long in doing: and pray observe then. You see first how I hold my hook, and thus I begin. Look you here are my first two or three whips about the bare hook, thus I joyn hook and line, thus I put on my wings, thus I twirle and lap on my dub­bing, thus I work it up towards the head, thus I part my wings, thus I nip my superfluous dubbing from my silk, thus fasten, thus trim and adjust my Flie, and there's a Flie made, and now how do you like it?

In earnest, admirably well, and it per­fectly resembles a Flie; but we about London make the bodies of our Flies both much bigger and longer, so long as even almost to the very beard of the Hook.

[Page 44]

I know it very well, and had one of those Flies given me by an honest Gentleman, who came with my Father Walton to give me a Visit, which (to tell you the truth) I hung in my parlour Window to laugh at: but Sir, you know the Proverb, They who go to Rome, must do as they at Rome do; and believe me you must here make your Flies after this fashion, or you will take no Fish. Come I will look you out a Line, and you shall put it on, and try it. There Sir, now I think you are fitted, and now be­yond the farther end of the walk you shall be­gin, I see at that bend of the water above, the air crisps the water a little, knit your Line first here, and then go up thither, and see what you can do.

Did you see that Sir?

Yes, I saw the Fish, and he saw you too, which made him turn short, you must fish fur­ther off, if you intend to have any sport here, this is no New-River let me tell you. That was a good Trout believe me, did you touch him?

No, I would I had, we would not have parted so. Look you there was another; this is an excellent File.

That Flie I am sure would kill Fish, if the day were right; but they only chew at it I see, and will not take it. Come Sir, let us return back to the Fishing-house; this still wa­ter [Page 45] I see will not do our business to day; you shall now, if you please, make a Flie your self, and try what you can do in the streams with that, and I know a Trout taken with a Flie of your own making will please you better than twenty with one of mine. Give me that Bag again, Sirrah; look you Sir, there is a hook, tought, silk, and a feather for the wings, be do­ing with those, and I will look you out a Dub­bing, that I think will do.

This is a very little hook.

That may serve to inform you, that it is for a very little Flie, and you must make your wings accordingly; for as the case stands it must be a little Flie, and a very little one too, that must do your business. Well said! believe me you shift your fingers very handsomely; I doubt I have taken upon me to teach my Ma­ster. So here's your dubbing now.

This dubbing is very black.

It appears so in hand; but step to the doors and hold it up betwixt your eye and the Sun, and it will appear a shining red; let me tell you never a man in England can discern the true colour of a dubbing any way but that, and therefore chuse always to make your Flies on such a bright Sun-shine day as this, which also you may the better do, because it is worth no­thing to fish in, here put it on, and be sure to make the body of your Flie as slender as you [Page 46] can. Very good! Upon my word you have made a marvellous handsom Flie.

I am very glad to hear it; 'tis the first that ever I made of this kind in my life.

Away, away! You are a Doctor at it! but I will not commend you too much, left I make you proud. Come put it on, and you shall now go downward to some streams betwixt the rocks below the little foot bridg you see there, and try your Fortune. Take heed of slipping into the water as you follow me under this rock: So now you are over, and now throw in.

This is a fine stream indeed: There's one! I have him!

And a precious catch you have of him; pull him out! I see you have a tender hand: This is a diminutive Gentleman, e'en throw him in again, and let him grow till he be more worthy your anger.

Pardon me, Sir, all's Fish that comes to'th' hook with me now. Another!

And of the same standing.

I see I shall have good sport now: A­nother! and a Grayling. Why you have Fish here at will.

Come, come, cross the Bridge, and go down the other side lower, where you will find finer streams, and better sport I hope than [Page 47] this. Look you Sir, here is a fine stream now, you have length enough, stand a little further off, let me entreat you, and do but Fish this stream like an Artist, and peradventure a good Fish may fall to your share. How now! what is all gone?

No, I but touch't him; but that was a Fish worth taking.

Why now let me tell you, you lost that Fish by yout own fault, and through your own eagerness and haste; for you are never to offer to strike a good Fish, if he do not strike him­self, till first you see him turn his head after he has taken your Flie, and then you can never strain your tackle in the striking, if you strike with any manner of moderation. Come throw in one again, and fish me this stream by inches; for I assure you here are very good Fish, both Trout and Grayling, lie here; and at that great stone on the other side, 'tis ten to one a good Trout gives you the meeting.

I have him now, but he is gone down towards the bottom, I cannot see what he is▪ yet he should be a good Fish by his weight; but he makes no great stir.

Why then, by what you say, I dare venture to assure you, 'tis a Grayling, who is one of the deadest hearted Fishes in the world, and the bigger he is the more easily taken. Look you, now you see him plain; I told you what [Page 48] he was, bring hither that landing net, Boy, and now Sir, he is your own; and believe me a good one, sixteen Inches long I warrant him, I have taken none such this year.

I never saw a Grayling before look so black.

Did you not? Why then let me tell you, that you never saw one before in right sea­son: for then a Grayling is very black about his head, guills, and down his back, and has his Belly of a dark grey, dappled with black spots, as you see this is, and I am apt to conclude, that from thence he derives his name of Vmber. Though I must tell you this Fish is past his prime, and begins to decline, and was in bet­ter season at Christmas than he is now. But move on, for it grows towards dinner-time, and there is a very great and fine stream below, under that Rock, that fills the deepest pool in all the River, where you are almost sure of a good Fish.

Let him come, I'le try a fall with him; but I had thought, that the Grayling had been always in season with the Trout, and had come in, and gone out with him.

Oh no! assure your self a Grayling is a winter-fish: but such a one as would deceive any but such as know him very well indeed; for his flesh, even in his worst season, is so firm, and will so easily calver, that in plain truth he [Page 49] is very good meat at all times; but in his per­fect season (which, by the way, none but an o­vergrown Grayling will ever be) I think him so good a fish, as to be little inferiour to the best Trout that ever I tasted in my life.

Here's another skip-jack, and I have rais'd five or six more at least whilst you were speaking: Well, go thy way little Dove! thou art the finest River, that ever I saw, and the ful­lest of fish. Indeed, Sir, I like it so well, that I am afraid you will be troubled with me once a year, so long as we two live.

I am afraid I shall not Sir; but were you once here a May or a June, if good sport would tempt you, I should then expect you would sometimes see me; for you would then say it were a fine River indeed, if you had once seen the sport at the height.

Which I will do, if I live, and that you please to give me leave, there was one, and there another.

And all this in a strange River, and with a Flie of your own making! vvhy vvhat a dangerous man are you!

I, Sir, but vvho taught me? and as Dametas says by his man Dorus, so you may say by me,

[Page 50] But vvhat have we got here? A Rock sprin­ging up in the middle of the River! this is one of the oddest sights, that ever I saw.

Why, Sir, from that Pike 'Tis a Rock, in the foshion of a Spire-Stee­ple; and, al­most as big. It stands in the midst of the River Dove; and not far from Mr. Cot­ton's house, be­low which place this delicate Ri­ver takes a swift Carere betwixt many mighty Rocks, much higher and bigger than St Pauls Church, before 'was burnt. And this Dove being oppos'd by one of the highest of them, has at last, forc't it self away through it; and after a miles con­cealment, appears again with more glory and beauty than before that opposition; running through the most pleasant Valleys and most fruitful Meadows, that this Nation can justly boast of., that you see standing up there distant from the rock, this is call'd Pike-Pool: and young Mr. Izaac Walton was so pleas'd with it, as to draw it in Landschape in black and white in a blank Book I have at home, as he has done several prospects of my house also, which I keep for a memorial of his favour, and will shew you, when we come up to dinner.

Has young Master Izaak Walton been here too?

Yes marry has he Sir, and that again, and again too, and in France since, and at Rome, and at Venice, and I can't tell vvhere: but I intend to ask him a great many hard que­stions [Page 51] so soon as I can see him, which vvill be, God vvilling, next Month. In the mean time, Sir, to come to this fine stream at the head of this great Pool, you must venture over these slippery cobling stones; believe me, Sir, there you vvere nimble or else you had been down; but now you are got over, look to your self; for on my vvord if a Fish rise here, he is like to be such a one, as will endanger your tackle: How novv!

I think you have such command here over the Fishes, that you can raise them by your vvord, as they say Conjurers can do Spirits, and afterward make them do vvhat you bid them: for here's a Trout has taken my Flie, I had rather have lost a Crown. What luck's this! He vvas a lovely Fish, and turn'd up a side like a Salmon.

O Sir, this is a War vvhere you some­times win, and must sometimes expect to loose; Never concern your self for the loss of your Flie; for ten to one I teach you to make a bet­ter. Who's that calls?

Sir, Will it please you to come to din­ner?

We come. You hear Sir we are call'd, and now take your choice, whether you vvill climb this steep Hill before you, from the top of vvhich you vvill go directly into the House, or back again over these stepping stones, and about by the Bridg.

[Page 52]

Nay, sure the nearest vvay is best; at least my stomach tells me so; and I am now so well acquainted with your Rocks, that I fear them not.

Come then, follow me, and so soon as we have din'd; we will down again to the little House; where I will begin at the place I left off about Flie-Fishing, and read you ano­ther Lecture; for I have a great deal more to say upon that Subject.

The more the better; I could never have met with a more obliging Master, my first excepted; nor such sport can all the Rivers about London ever afford, as is to be found in this pretty River.

You deserve to have better, both be­cause I see you are willing to take pains, and for liking this little so well; and better I hope to shew you before we part.

CHAP. VII.

Come Sir, having now well din'd, and being again set in your little House; I will now challenge your promise, and entreat you to proceed in your instruction for Flie-fish­ing, which, that you may be the better en­courag'd to do, I will assure you, that I have not lost, I think, one syllable of what you have told me; but very well retain all your directi­ons both for the Rod, Line, and making a Flie, and now desire an account of the Flies themselves.

Why Sir, I am ready to give it you, and shall have the whole afternoon to do it in, if no body come in to interrupt us; for you must know (besides the unfitness of the day) that the afternoons so early in March signifie ve­ry little to Angling with a Flie, though with a Minnow, or a Worm something might (I confess) be done.

To begin then where I left off, my Father Walton tells us but of 12 Artificial flies only, to Angle with at the top, and gives their names; of which some are common with us here; and I think I guess at most of them by his de­scription, and I believe they all breed, and are taken in our Rivers, though we do not make [Page 54] them either of the same Dubbing, or fashion. And it may be in the Rivers about London, which I presume he has most frequented, and where 'tis likely he has done most execution, there is not much notice taken of many more: but we are acquainted with several others here (though perhaps I may reckon some of his by other names too) but if I do, I shall make you amends by an addition to his Catalogue. And although the forenamed great Master in the Art of Angling (for so in truth he is) tells you that no man should in honesty catch a Trout till the middle of March, yet I hope he will give a Man leave sooner to take a Grayling, which, as I told you, is in the dead Months in his best season; and do assure you (which I remember by a very remarkable token) I did once take upon the sixt day of December one, and only one, of the biggest Graylings and the best in season, that ever I yet saw, or tasted; and do usually take Trouts too, and with a Flie, not only before the middle of this Month, but almost every year in February, unless it be a very ill spring indeed, and have sometimes in January, so early as New-years-tide, and in frost and snow taken Grayling in a warm sun­shine day for an hour or two about Noon; and to fish for him with a Grub it is then the best time of all.

I shall therefore begin my Flie-fishing with [Page 55] that Month (though I confess very few begin so soon, and that such as are so fond of the sport as to embrace all opportunities, can rarely in that Month find a day fit for their purpose) and tell you, that upon my knowledg these Flies in a warm sun, for an hour or two in the day, are certainly taken.

CHAP. VIII.

So, Sir, I am now ready for ano­ther Lesson so soon as you please to give it me.

and I, Sir, as ready to give you the best I can. Having told you the time of the Stone-Flie's coming in, and that he is bred of a Cad­dis in the very River where he is taken, I am next to tell you, that

13. This same Stone-Flie has not the patience to continue in his Crust, or Husk till his wings be full grown; but so soon as ever they begin to put out, that he feels himself strong (at which time we call him a Jack) squeezes him­self out of Prison, and crawls to the top of some stone, where if he can find a chink that will receive him, or can creep betwixt two stones, the one lying hollow upon the other (which, by the way, we also lay so purposely to find them) he there lurks till his wings be full grown, and there is your only place to find him (and from thence doubtless he derives his name) though, for want of such convenience, he will make shift with the hollow of a Bank, or any other place where the wind cannot come to fetch him off. His body is long, and pretty thick, and as broad at the tail almost, as in the [Page 72] middle; his colour a very fine brown, ribb'd with yellow, and much yellower on the belly than the back, he has two or three whisks also at the tag of his tail, and two little horns upon his head, his wings, when full grown, are double, and flat down his back of the same colour, but rather darker than his body, and longer than it; though he makes but little use of them, for you shall rarely see him flying, though often swimming, and padling with several feet he has under his belly upon the wa­ter, without stirring a wing: but the Drake will mount Steeple height into the Air, though he is to be found upon flags and grass too, and indeed every where high and low, near the River; there being so many of them in their season, as were they not a very inoffensive insect, would look like a Plague; and these Drakes (since I forgot to tell you before, I will tell you here) are taken by the Fish to that in­credible degree, that upon a calm day you shall see the still deeps continually all over circles by the Fishes rising, who will gorge themselves with those Flies, till they purge again out of their Guills; and the Trouts are at that time so lusty and strong, that one of eight, or ten inches long, will then more struggle, and tug, and more endanger your Tackle, than one twice as big in winter: but pardon this digressi­on.

[Page 73] This Stone-flie then we dape or dibble with as with the Drake, but with this difference, that whereas the green-Drake is common both to stream and still, and to all hours of the day, we seldome dape with this but in the streams, (for in a whistling wind a made Flie in the deep is better, and rarely, but early and late, it not being so proper for the mid-time of the day; though a great Grayling will then take it very well in a sharp stream, and here and there a Trout too: but much better toward 8, 9, 10. or eleven of the clock at night, at which time also the best Fish rise, and the latter the better, provided you can see your Flie, and when you cannot, a made Flie will murder, which is to be made thus: The dubbing of bears dun with a little brown and yellow Camlet very well mixt; but so plac'd that your Flie may be more yellow on the belly and towards the tail under­neath than in any other part, and you are to place two or three hairs of a black Cats beard on the top of the hook in your arming, so as to be turn'd up, when you warp on your dubbing, and to stand almost upright, and staring one from another, and note that your Flie is to be ribb'd with yellow silk, and the wings long, and very large, of the dark grey feather of a Mal­lard.

[Page 74] 14. The next May-Flie is the black Flie, made with a black body of the whirle of an Ostridg-feather, rib'd with silver twist, and the black hackle of a Cock over all; and is a kil­ling Flie, but not to be nam'd with either of the other.

15. The last May-Flie (that is of the four pretenders) is the little yellow May-Flie, in shape exactly the same with the green Drake, but a very little one, and of as bright a yellow as can be seen; which is made of a bright yel­low Camlet, and the wings of a white grey feather died yellow.

16. The last Flie for this month (and which continues all June, though it comes in the mid­dle of May) is the Flie called the Camlet-Flie, in shape like a moth with fine diapred▪ or wa­ter-wings, and with which (as I told you be­fore) I sometimes used to dibble; and Gray­ling will rise mightily at it. But the artificial Flie (which is only in use amongst our Anglers) is made of a dark brown shining Camlet, rib'd over with a very small light green silk, the wings of the double grey feather of a Mallard; and 'tis a killing Flie for small Fish, and so much for May.

CHAP. IX.

A good day to you, Sir; I see you will alwaies be stirring before me.

Why, to tell you the truth, I am so allur'd with the sport I had yesterday, that I long to be at the River again, and when I heard the wind sing in my Chamber window, could forbear no longer, but leap out of bed, and had just made an end of dressing my self, as you came in.

Well, I am both glad you are so ready for the day, and that the day is so fit for you, and look you I have made you three or four flies this morning, this silver twist hackle, this bears dun, this light brown and this dark brown, any of which I dare say will do; but you may try them all, and see which does best, only I must ask your pardon that I cannot wait upon you this Morning, a little business being fal'n out, that for two or three hours, will deprive me of your Company: but I'le come call you home to dinner, and my man shall attend you.

Oh Sir, mind your affairs by all means, do but lend me a little of your skill to these fine flies, and, unless it have forsaken me since yesterday, I shall find luck of my own I hope to do something.

[Page 84]

The best Instruction I can give you, is, that, seeing the wind curles the water, and blows the right way, you would now angle up the still deep to day; for betwixt the Rocks where the streams are, you would find it now too brisk, and besides I would have you take fish in both Waters.

I'le obey your Direction, and so a good morning to you. Come young man, let you and I walk together. But heark you, Sir, I have not done vvith you yet; I expect ano­ther Lesson for angling at the bottom, in the afternoon.

Well, Sir, I'le be ready for you.

CHAP. X.

Oh Sir, are you return'd? you have but just prevented me. I was coming to call you.

I am glad then I have sav'd you the labour.

And how have you sped.

You shall see that, Sir, presently, look you Sir, here are three Spoke like a South-Country man. brace of Trouts, one of them the biggest but one, that ever I kill'd with a flie in my life, and yet I lost a bigger than that, with my Flie to boo't, and here are three Graylings, and one of them lon­ger by some inches than that I took yesterday, and yet I thought that a good one too.

Why you have made a pretty good mornings work on't, and now Sir, what think you of our River Dove?

I think it to be the best Trout River in England; and am so far in love with it, that if it were mine, and that I could keep it to my self, I would not exchange that water, for all the Land it runs over; to be totally de­barr'd from't.

[Page 86]

That Complement to the River, speaks you a true lover of the Art of angling: And now, Sir, to make part of amends for sending you so uncivilly out alone this Morning, I will my self dress you this dish of fish for your din­ner, walk but into the parlour, you will find one Book or other in the window to enter­tain you the while, and you shall have it pre­sently.

Well Sir, I obey you.

Look you Sir, have I not made haste?

Believe me Sir, that you have, and it looks so well, I long to be at it.

Fall too then; now Sir what say You! am I a tolerable Cook or no?

So good a one, that I did never eat so good Fish in my life. This Fish is infinitely better, than any I ever tasted of the kind in my life. 'Tis quite another thing, than our Trouts about London.

You would say so, if that Trout you eat of were in right season: but pray eat of the Grayling, which upon my word at this time, is by much the better Fish.

In earnest, and so it is: and I have one request to make to you, which is, that as you have taught me to catch Trout and Grayling, you will now teach me how to dress them as these are drest, which questionless is of all other the best way.

[Page 87]

That I will Sir, with all my heart, and am glad you like them so well, as to make that request, and they are drest thus.

Take your Trout, wash, and dry him with a clean Napkin; then open him, and having taken out his guts, and all the blood, wipe him very clean within, but wash him not, and give him three scotches with a Knife to the bone on one side only. After which take a clean Kettle, and put in as much hard stale Beer (but it must not be dead) Vinegar, and a little Whitewine, and Water, as will cover the Fish you intend to boyl; then throw into the Liquor a good quantity of Salt, the Rind of a Lemon, a handful of slic't Horse-Radish root, with a handsom little fagot of Rosemary, Time, and Winter-Savory. Then set your Kettle upon a quick fire of wood, and let your Liquor boyl up to the height before you put in your Fish, and then, if there be many, put them in one by one, that they may not so cool the Liquor, as to make it fall; and whilst your Fish is boyling, beat up the Butter for your Sawce with a Ladle full or two of the Liquor it is boy­ling in, and being boyld enough, immediately pour the Liquor from the Fish, and being laid in a Dish, pour your Butter upon it, and strew­ing it plentifully over with shav'd Horse-Raddish, and a little pounded Ginger, garnish your sides of your Dish, and the Fish it self with a slic't [Page 88] Lemon, or two, and serve it up. A Grayling is also to be drest exactly after the same manner, saving that he is to be scal'd, which a Trout never is: and that must be done either with ones nails, or very lightly and carefully with a Knife for bruising the Fish. And note, that these kinds of Fish, a Trout especially, if he is not eaten within four, or five hours after he be taken, is worth nothing.

But come Sir, I see you have din'd, and there­fore if you please we will walk down again to the little House, and there I will read you a Lecture of Angling at the bottom.

CHAP. XI.

So Sir, Now we are here, and set: let me have my instructions for Angling for Trout, and Grayling at the bottom; which though not so easy, so cleanly, nor (as 'tis said) so Gentile a way of Fishing, as with a Flie; is yet (if I mistake not) a good holding way and takes Fish when nothing else will.

You are in the right, it does so: and a worm is so sure a bait at all times, that, excepting in a Flood, I would I had laid thousand pounds that I kill'd Fish more, or less with it, Win­ter or Summer every day throughout the Year; those days always excepted, that, upon a more serious account always ought so to be. But not longer to delay you, I will begin, and tell you, that Angling at the bottom is also com­monly of two sorts (and yet there is a third way of Angling with a Ground-bait, and to very great effect too, as shall be said hereafter) namely.

• [Page 90]By Hand: or
• With a Cork, or Float.

That we call Angling by hand is of three sorts.

The first with a line about half the length of the Rod, a good weighty plum, and three hairs next the Hook, which we call a running Line, and with one large Brandling, or a dew-worm of a moderate size, or two small ones of the first, or any other sort, proper for a Trout, of which my Father Walton has already given you the names, and sav'd me a labour; or in­deed almost any worm whatever; for if a Trout be in the humour to bite, it must be such a worm as I never yet saw, that he will refuse; and if you Fish with two, you are then to bait your hook thus. You are first to run the point of your hook in at the very head of your first worm, and so down through his body till it be past the knot, and then let it out, and strip the worm above the arming (that you may not bruise it with your fingers) till you have put on the other by running the point of the Hook in below the knot, and upwards through his body towards his head till it be but just cover'd [Page 91] with the head, which being done, you are then to slip the first worm down over the ar­ming again, till the knots of both worms meet together.

The second way of Angling by hand, and with a running Line, is with a Line something longer than the former, and with Tackle made after this same manner. At the utmost extre­mity of your Line, where the Hook is always plac'd in all other ways of Angling, you are to have a large Pistol, or Carabine Bullet, into which the end of your Line is to be fastned with a Peg, or Pin even and close with the Bul­let, and about half a foot above that, a branch of Line, of two, or three handfuls long; or more, for a swift stream, with a Hook at the end thereof baited with some of the forenamed worms, and another half foot above that ano­ther arm'd, and baited after the same manner; but with another sort of worm, without any lead at all above: by which means you will al­ways certainly find the true bottom in all depths, which with the Plums upon your Line above you can never do, but that your bait must always drag whilst you are sounding (which in this way of Angling must be continually) by which means you are like to have more trou­ble, and peradventure worse success. And both these ways of Angling at the bottom are most proper for a dark, and muddy water, by [Page 92] reason that in such a condition of the stream, a Man may stand as near as he will, and neither his own shadow; nor the roundness of his Tackle will hinder his sport.

The third way of Angling by hand with a Ground-bait, and by much the best of all other, is, with a Line full as long, or a yard and half longer than your Rod, with no more than one hair next the hook, and for two or three lengths above it, and no more than one small pellet of shot for your plum, your Hook little, your worms of the smaller Brandlings very well scour'd, and only one upon your hook at a time, which is thus to be baited. The point of your hook is to be put in at the very tagg of his tail, and run up his body quite over all the arming, and still stript on an inch at least upon the hair, the head and remaining part hanging downward; and with this line and hook thus baited you are evermore to angle in the streams, always in a clear rather than a troubled water, and always up the River, still casting out your worm before you with a light one-handed Rod, like an artificial Flie, where it will be taken, sometimes at the top, or with­in a very little of the Superficies of the water, and almost always before that light plumb can sink it to the bottom, both by reason of the stream, and also that you must always keep your worm in motion by drawing still back to­wards [Page 93] you, as if you were angling with a flie; and believe me, whoever will try it, shall find this the best way of all other to angle with a worm, in a bright water especially; but then his rod must be very light and pliant, and very true and finely made, which with a skilful hand will do wonders, and in a clear stream is un­doubtedly the best way of angling for a Trout, or Grayling with a worm, by many degrees, that any man can make choice of, and of most ease and delight to the Angler. To which let me add, that if the Angler be of a constitution that will suffer him to wade, and will slip in­to the tail of a shallow stream, to the Calf of the leg or the knee, and so keep off the bank, he shall almost take what fish he pleases.

The second way of angling at the bottom is with a Cork or float; and that is also of two sorts.

• With a worm: or,
• With a Grub or Caddis.

With a worm you are to have your line within a foot, or a foot and half as long as your rod, in a dark water with two, or if you [Page 94] will with three; but in a clear water never with above one hair next the hook, and two or three for four or five lengths above it, and a worm of what size you please, your plums fitted to your Cork, your Cork to the conditi­on of the River (that is to the swiftness or slow­ness of it) and both, when the water is very clear, as fine as you can, and then you are ne­ver to bait with above one of the lesser sort of Brandlings; or, if they are very little ones in­deed, you may then bait with two after the man­ner before directed.

When you angle for a Trout, you are to do it as deep, that is, as near the bottom as you can, provided your bait do not drag, or if it do, a Trout will sometimes take it in that po­sture: if for a Grayling, you are then to fish further from the bottom, he being a fish that usually swims nearer to the middle of the wa­ter, and lyes alwaies loose: or however is more apt to rise than a Trout, and more inclin'd to rise than to descend even to a Ground­bait.

With a Grub or Caddis, you are to angle with the same length of Line; or if it be all out as long as your Rod, 'tis not the worse, with never above on hair for two or three lengths next the hook, and with the smallest Cork, or float, and the least weight of plumb you can that will but sink, and that the swift­ness [Page 95] of your stream will allow; which also you may help, and avoid the violence of the Current, by angling in the returnes of a stream, or the Eddies betwixt two streams, which also are the most likely places wherein to kill a Fish in a stream, either at the top or bot­tom.

Of Grubs for a Grayling, the Ash-Grub, which is plump, milk-white, bent round from head to tail, and exceeding tender with a red head; or the Dock worm, or Grub of a pale yellow, longer, lanker, and tougher than the other, with rows of feet all down his belly, and a red head also are the best, I say for a Grayling, because, although a Trout will take both these (the Ash-Grub especially) yet he does not do it so freely as the other, and I have usu­ally taken ten Graylings for one Trout with that bait, though if a Trout come, I have ob­served, that he is commonly a very good one.

These baits we usually keep in Bran, in which an Ash-Grub commonly grows tougher, and will better endure baiting, though he is yet so tender, that it will be necessary to warp in a piece of a stiff hair with your arming, lea­ving it standing out about a straw breadth at the head of your hook, so as to keep the Grub either from slipping totally off when baited, or at least down to the point of the hook, by which [Page 96] means your arming will be left wholly naked and bare, which is neither so sightly, nor so likely to be taken; though to help that (which will however very oft fall out) I always arm the hook I design for this Bait with the whitest horse-hair I can chuse, which it self will re­semble, and shine like that bait, and conse­quently will do more good, or less harm than an arming of any other colour. These Grubs are to be baited thus, the hook is to be put in under the head or Chaps of the bait, and guided down the middle of the belly without suffering it to peep out by the way (for then (the Ash-Grub especially) will issue out water and milk, till nothing but the skin shall remain, and the bend of the hook will appear black through it) till the point of your hook come so low, that the head of your bait may rest, and stick upon the hair that stands out to hold it, by which means it can neither slip of it self; neither will the force of the stream, nor quick pulling out, upon any mistake, strip it off.

Now the Caddis, or Cod-bait (which is a sure killing bait, and for the most part, by much, surer, than either of the other) may be put upon the Hook, two or three together, and is sometimes (to very great effect) joyn'd to a worm, and sometimes to an Artificial Flie to cover the point of the Hook; but is always to be Angled with at the bottom (when by it self [Page 97] especially) with the finest Tackle; and is for all times of the year, the most holding bait of all other whatever, both for Trout, and Gray­ling.

There are several other baits besides these few I have nam'd you, which also do very great execution at the bottom, and some that are peculiar to certain Countries, and Rivers, of which every Angler may in his own place, make his own observation: and some others that I do not think fit to put you in mind of, because I would not corrupt you, and would have you, as in all things else I observe you to be a very honest Gentleman, a fair Angler. And so much for the second sort of Angling for a Trout at the bottom.

But Sir, I beseech you give me leave to ask you one question, Is there no art to be us'd to worms, to make them allure the Fish, and in a manner compel them to bite at the bait.

Not that I know of; or did I know any such secret, I would not use it my self, and therefore would not teach it you. Though I will not deny to you, that in my younger days, I have made tryal of Oyl of Ospray, Oyl of Ivy, Camphire, Assa-faetida, juice of Nettles, and several other devices that I was taught by seve­ral Anglers I met with, but could never find any advantage by them; and can scarce believe [Page 98] there is any thing to be done that way, though I must tell you I have seen some men, who I thought went to work no more artificially than I, and have yet with the same kind of worms I had, in my own sight taken five, and some­times ten for one. But we'l let that business a­lone if you please; and because we have time enough, and that I would deliver you from the trouble of any more Lectures, I will, if you please, proceed to the last way of angling for a Trout or Grayling, which is in the middle; after which I shall have no more to trouble you with.

'Tis no trouble, Sir, but the greatest sa­tisfaction that can be, and I attend you.

CHAP. XII.

Angling in the middle then for a Trout or Grayling is of two sorts.

• With a Pink or Minnow for a Trout: or,
• With a Worm, Grub or Caddis for a Grayling.

For the first, it is with a Minnow half a foot, or a foot within the Superficies of the water, and as to the rest that concerns this sort of an­gling, I shall wholly refer you to Mr. Walton's direction, who is undoubtedly the best Angler with a Minnow in England; only in plain truth I do not approve of those baits he keeps in salt, unless where the Living ones are not possibly to be had (though I know he frequent­ly kills with them, and peradventure more, than with any other, nay I have seen him refuse a living one for one of them) and much less of his artificial one; for though we do it with a counterfeit flie, me thinks it should hardly be expected, that a man should deceive a fish with a counterfeit fish. Which having said, I [Page 100] shall only add, and that out of my own experi­ence, that I do believe a Bull-head, with his Guill-fins cut off (at some times of the year especially) to be a much better bait for a Trout, than a Minnow, and a Loach much better than that, to prove which I shall only tell you that I have much oftner taken Trouts with a Bull-head or a Loach in their Throats (for there a Trout has questionless his first digestion) than a Minnow; and that one day especially, having Angled a good part of the day with a Minnow, and that in as hopeful a day, and as fit a wa­ter, as could be wisht for that purpose, with­out raising any one Fish; I at last fell to't with the worm, and with that took fourteen in a very short space, amongst all which, there was not to my remembrance, so much as one, that had not a Loach or two, and some of them three, four, five, and six Loaches, in his throat and stomach; from whence I concluded, that had I Angled with that bait, I had made a no­table days work of't.

But after all, there is a better way of Angling with a Minnow, than perhaps is fit either to teach or to practice; to which I shall only add, that a Grayling will certainly rise at, and sometimes take a Minnow, though it will be hard to be believ'd by any one, who shall consi­der the littleness of that Fishes mouth, very nnfit to take so great a bait: but is affirm'd by [Page 101] many, that he will sometimes do it, and I my self know it to be true, for though I never took a Grayling so, yet a Man of mine once did, and within so few paces of me, that I am as certain of it, as I can be of any thing I did not see, and (which made it appear the more strange) the Grayling was not above eleven inches long.

I must here also beg leave of your Master, and mine, not to controvert, but to tell him, that I cannot consent to his way of throwing in his Rod to an overgrown Trout, and afterwards recovering his Fish with his Tackle. For though I am satisfied he has sometimes done it, because he says so; yet I have found it quite otherwise, and though I have taken with the Angle, I may safely say, some thousands of Trouts in my life, my top never snapt, though my Line still continued fast to the remaining part of my Rod (by some lengths of Line curl'd round about my top, and there fastned with waxt silk, against such an accident) nor my hand never slackt, or slipt by any other chance, but I almost always infallibly lost my Fish, whether great, or little, though my Hook came home again. And I have often wondred how a Trout should so suddainly dis­engage himself from so great a Hook, as that we bait with a Minnow, and so deep bearded, as those Hooks commonly are, when I have [Page 102] seen by the forenam'd accidents, or the slipping of a knot in the upper part of the Line, by suddain, and hard striking, that though the Line has immediately been recover'd, almost before it could be all drawn into the water, the Fish clear'd, and gone in a moment. And yet to justifie what he says, I have sometimes known a Trout, having carried away a whole Line, found dead three, or four days after with the Hook fast sticking in him: but then it is to be suppos'd he had gorg'd it, which a Trout will do, if you be not too quick with him when he comes at a Minnow, as sure and much sooner than a Pike; and I my self have also, once, or twice in my life, taken the same Fish with my own Flie sticking in his Chaps, that he had taken from me the day before, by the slipping of a Hook in the arming: but I am very confident a Trout will not be troubled two hours with any Hook, that has so much as one handful of Line left behind with it, or that is not struck through a bone, if it be in any part of his mouth only; nay, I do certainly know, that a Trout so soon as ever he feels himself prickt, if he carries away the Hook, goes immediately to the bottom, and will there root like a Hog upon the Gravel, till he either rub out, or break the Hook in the middle. And so much for this first sort of Angling in the middle for a Trout.

[Page 103] The second way of Angling in the middle, is with a Worm, Grub, Caddis, or any other Ground-bait for a Grayling, and that is vvith a Cork, and a foot from the bottom, a Grayling taking it much better there, than at the bottom, as has been said before; and this always in a clear water, and with the finest Tackle.

To which we may also, and vvith very good reason, add the third way of Angling by hand with a Ground-bait, as a third way of Fishing in the middle, which is common to both Trout, and Grayling, and (as I said before) the best way of Angling with a Worm, of all other I ever try'd whate­ver.

And now Sir, I have said all I can at present think of concerning Angling for a Trout and Grayling; and I doubt not, have tir'd you sufficiently: but I will give you no more trouble of this kind, whilst you stay; vvhich I hope will be a good while longer.

That will not be above a day lon­ger; but if I live till May come twelve Month, you are sure of me again, either vvith my Master Walton, or without him, and in the mean time shall ac­quaint him how much you have made of me for his sake, and I hope he loves me [Page 104] well enough, to thank you for it.

I shall be glad Sir, of your good Company at the time you speak of and shall be loath to part with you now; but when you tell me you must go, I will then wait upon you more Miles on your way, than I have tempted you out of it, and heartily wish you a good Journey.