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I don't keep a perfect calendar in my mind of all your meetings and your religious engagements. Then I suppose I must go alone to the Waltons' to see Mr. Walton's water-colours? 'I'll give up the prayer-meeting, if you wish it, Ronald answered, with his unvarying meekness. 'Only, I'm afraid I must walk very slowly. My cough's rather bad this morning.
Doesn't every standard writer on angling say that fly-fishing is the perfection of the art?" "Not at all," Cotton Mather replied, with some exultation, "Izaak Walton's book is all about bait-fishing, except two or three pages on the artificial fly, which were composed for him by Thomas Barker, a retired confectioner. But suppose all the books were on your side.
Nay, he also possesses that zeal for his duty which induces him to throw blame, if there be the slightest ground for it, upon Aymer de Valence himself, although his uncle, the Earl of Pembroke, was John de Walton's steady patron, and laid the beginning of his good fortune; for all which, by training up his nephew in the true discipline of the French wars, Sir John has taken the best way of showing himself grateful to the eld Earl."
Geographical Grammar. Prideaux's Connection. Nelson's Feasts and Fasts. Duty of Man. Gentleman's Religion. Clarendon's History. Watts's Improvement of the Mind. Watts's Logick. Nature Displayed. Lowth's English Grammar. Blackwall on the Classicks. Sherlock's Sermons. Burnet's Life of Hale. Dupin's History of the Church. Shuckford's Connection. Law's Serious Call. Walton's Complete Angler.
Although still suffering, Gregory sat by his fire a long time, forgetful of pain. High, blustering winds prevailed all the following day, but they only made the quiet and cosiness of Mr. Walton's fireside more delightful. Gregory did not care to go out if he went alone.
She lives over there across the common, in the little yellowish house with the vines; see?" "Yes, yes, I see. That's where Miss Sampson lives, eh? Well, well! But we were speaking about Miss Walton, weren't we?" "Yes, sir. Miss Walton's a young lady and as pretty as as " Zephania's words failed her and she looked about apparently in search of a simile.
"I didn't think he was quite so mean," passed through Hiram Walton's mind, and his lip curved slightly in scorn, but he knew that this feeling must be concealed. "Just as you say," he answered. "I'll come round tonight, or send Harry." "How old is Harry now?" "About fourteen." "He's got to be quite a sizable lad ought to earn concid'able. Is he industrious?"
One's father is commonly of tougher fibre than one's mother, and one would not feel the same scruples, perhaps, in using him professionally as material in a novel; still, while you are employing him as bait, you see I am honest and plain-spoken, for your characters are baits to catch readers with, I would follow kind Izaak Walton's humane counsel about the frog you are fastening to your fish-hook: fix him artistically, as he directs, but in so doing I use him as though you loved him.
This morning, though, while the assortment in the bag was quite full and varied, it had nothing on the above subject. Aunt Stanshy went home disappointed. If she could have gone to Mr. Walton's she would have witnessed something of interest. Mr. Walton was leading the stranger into his house, when he said, "Stop a moment in the parlor and I will go into the sitting-room and prepare her."
Looking at it fondly, he said, "It links me to her happy childhood before that false man came, and it may join me to her in the 'place' which God is preparing, when he who now deceives her is as far removed as sin." Immediately after Mr. Walton's funeral Miss Eulie had written to a brother-in-law, then, in Europe, full particulars of all that had occurred.
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