to catch the eye of my piscatorial inclination! I have read of right
angles and obtuse angles, and, verily, begin to believe that there are
also right anglers and obtuse anglers--and that I am really one of the
latter class. But never more will I plant myself, like a weeping willow,
upon the sedgy bank of stream or river. No!--on no account will I draw
upon these banks again, with the melancholy prospect of no effects! The
most 'capital place' will never tempt me to 'fish' again!

My best hat is gone: not the 'way of all beavers'--into the water--but to
cover the cranium of the owner of this wretched 'tile;' and in vain shall
I seek it; for 'this' and 'that' are now certainly as far as the 'poles'
asunder.

My pockets, too, are picked! Yes--some clever 'artist' has drawn me
while asleep!

My boots are filled with water, and my soles and heels are anything but
lively or delighted. Never more will I impale ye, Gentles! on the word
of a gentleman!--Henceforth, O! Hooks! I will be as dead to your
attractions as if I were 'off the hooks!' and, in opposition to the maxim
of Solomon, I will 'spare the rod.'

Instead of a basket of fish, lo! here's a pretty kettle of fish for the
entertainment of my expectant friends--and sha'n't I be baited? as the
hook said to the anger: and won't the club get up a Ballad on the
occasion, and I, who have caught nothing, shall probably be made the
subject of a 'catch!'

Slush! slush!--Squash! squash!