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Boteler said of strawberries: Doubtless God could have made a better berry, but doubtless God never did; and so, if I might be judge, God never did make a more calm, quiet, innocent recreation than angling." The Compleat Angler. Last year there were a good number.
Isaac Walton, in his book called The Complete Angler, thus describes the animated scene: "Look! down at the bottom of the hill there, in the meadow, checkered with water-lilies and lady-smocks; there you may see what work they make; look! look! you may see all busy men and dogs dogs and men all busy." At last the otter is found. Then barked the dogs, and shouted the men!
Over a ledge of rock fell the bright waters of the Esk, and in the clear linn the trouts shuttled from stone and crevice, dreading the persecutions of the angler, who, in the luxury of his pastime, heedeth not what they may in their cool element suffer.
When she found her lair discovered by an angler who happened to pass that way, she brought them across the river by the narrow footbridge right up here on to the hill. The cubs from the tree have disappeared, so no doubt these are the ones. Well, there are lots of rabbits for them; the little fellows are popping about all over the place.
The trained angler, who uses the finest tackle, and drops his fly on the water as accurately as Henry James places a word in a story, is the man who takes the most and the largest fish in the long run.
A boy was kneeling beside the brook, and a girl was giving him a drink of water out of her rosy hands. They stared with wonder and compassion at the wet and solitary angler, wading down the stream, as if he were some kind of a mild lunatic. But as I glanced discreetly at their small tableau, I was not unconscious of the new joy that came into the landscape with the presence of
His simple dinner, which they had delayed in wonder at the protracted absence of the angler, and in expectation of the fishes he was to bring back to be fried, was soon despatched; his horse was ordered to the door, and the red clouds in the west already betokened the lapse of another day, as he spurred from the spot on the fast-trotting hackney, fourteen miles an hour.
'Twas not till a week later I discovered this to be a bon mot of Madame de Sevigne. His jewels are polished very fine, but 'tis not always in the Strawberry mine they are dug. But to our news What will your Honour pay me for a penn'orth? Tis of our beauty, Maria ahem! Walpole. The pretty angler has caught her fish a big fish, a gold fish, even a golden-hearted fish, for't is Lord Waldegrave!
But you're cruel short of rain, seemingly, and of course the season 's nearly over." "I'll shaw you dark hovers, wheer braave feesh be lying yet," promised Will; and the angler thanked him, foretelling a great friendship. Yet his eyes rarely roamed from Phoebe, and anon, as all three proceeded, John Grimbal stopped at the gate of Monks Barton and held the girl in conversation awhile.
Finally I had him within twenty feet circling around me, tired and loggy, yet still strong enough to require careful handling. He looked short and heavy, pale checked green and silver; and his staring black eye, set forward in his pointed white nose, could be plainly seen. This fish made a rare picture for an angler.
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