'Here's your gudgeons and minnows, sir, as you bespoke,' quoth
Harry; 'and here's that paternoster as you gave me to rig up.
Beautiful minnows, sir, white as a silver spoon.--They're the ones
now, ain't they, sir, eh?'

'They'll do!'

'Well, then, don't say old Harry don't know nothing, that's all,
eh?' and the old fellow toddled off, peering and twisting his head
about like a starling.

'An odd old fellow that, Tregarva,' said Lancelot.

'Very, sir, considering who made him,' answered the Cornishman,
touching his hat, and then thrusting his nose deeper than ever into
the eel-basket.

'Beautiful stream this,' said Lancelot, who had a continual longing-
-right or wrong--to chat with his inferiors; and was proportionately
sulky and reserved to his superiors.

'Beautiful enough, sir,' said the keeper, with an emphasis on the
first word.

'Why, has it any other fault?'

'Not so wholesome as pretty, sir.'

'What harm does it do?'