t to dub him a veteran, but for all
that he is one of the old guard of angling correspondents and
provincial journalists. In a letter from him a week or two since he
regrets that rheumatism and journalistic duties have interfered with
his outings, but still cheerily mentions "a measly half gross of
gudgeon" at Mapledurham, and the year before last he adds "with water
dead stale, we had about the same number of gudgeon, and quite sixty
roach from 1/2 lb. to 1 1/4 lb." And yet they tell us that the Thames
is played out!

Three days since I saw a colleague who was going to the City to see a
1/4-lb. roach which had been taken out of the Thames in a bucket at
London Bridge the day before. It should be stated that Mr. Butler was
with "John Bickerdyke," now in South Africa, and A. E. Hobbs, the hon.
secretary, founders of the Henley Association, and co-workers in other
directions with his friends, James Henry Clark, Bowdler Sharpe, Thurlow
of Wycombe, and many another. He founded the Reading and District
Angling Association in 1877, and practically ran it during its
successful career; it ended three years ago, but its work remains in
the head of fish in the district and a thorough loyalty amongst the
working men's clubs which he helped to start and establish. Mr.
Butler, too, was the prime mover in stocking the Thames in the Reading
district with two- and three-year old trout, buying and bringing the
fish from High Wycombe. I know and appreciate his voluntary work for
anglers and am glad of an opportunity of recording it.

Might one trespass so far on the reader's patience as to return to the
inspiration of the beginning of this sketch for a conclusion? The
remark of which I would deliver myself is that the artificiality of
which the poet Pope is accused in his natural scenery generally applies
to his references to sport. He is more sympathetic with his anglers
than with his fowlers, but neither appears to kindle the fire as in the
lines in which he traces the name of the Loddon to Lodona, the fabled
nymph of Diana. Pan's chase of the hapless nymph through Windsor
Forest calling in vain for aid upon Father Thames is full of spirit,
and he aptly justifies the name of Loddon--

She said, and melting as in tears she lay,
In a soft silver stream dissolv'd away,
The silver stream her virgin coldness keeps,
For ever murmurs, and for ever weeps;
Still bears the name the hapless virgin bore
And bathes the for