Of course there is no comparison between the two pursuits, the rod and line seeming but very poor trumpery to one who has had the honour of carrying a noble firelock.

There is a time, however, for all things; and we return to any favourite amusement with the greater zest, from being compelled to relinquish it for a season.

So, if I shot birds in winter with my firelock, I caught fish in summer, or attempted so to do, with my angle.

I was not quite so successful, it is true, with the latter as with the former; possibly because it afforded me less pleasure.
It was, indeed, too much of a listless pastime to inspire me with any great interest.

I not unfrequently fell into a doze whilst sitting on the bank, and more than once let my rod drop from my hands into the water.
At some distance from the city, behind a range of hilly ground which rises towards the south-west, is a small river, the waters of which, after many meanderings, eventually enter the principal river of the district, and assist to swell the tide which it rolls down to the ocean.
It is a sweet rivulet, and pleasant it is to trace its course from its spring-head, high up in the remote regions of Eastern Anglia, till it arrives in the valley behind yon rising ground; and pleasant is that valley, truly a goodly spot, but most lovely where yonder bridge crosses the little stream.