own range, with the Beacon hill upon the north,
and Hackpen long ridge to the south; and beyond that again the Whetstone
hill, upon whose western end dark port-holes scarped with white grit
mark the pits. But flint is the staple of the broad Culm Valley, under
good, well-pastured loam; and here are chalcedonies and agate stones.

At dinner everybody had a brace of trout--large for the larger folk,
little for the little ones, with coughing and some patting on the back
for bones. What of equal purport could the fierce rat-hunter show? Pike
explained many points in the history of each fish, seeming to know
them none the worse, and love them all the better, for being fried. We
banqueted, neither a whit did soul get stinted of banquet impartial.
Then the wielder of the magic rod very modestly sought leave of absence
at the tea time.

"Fishing again, Mr. Pike, I suppose," my father answered pleasantly; "I
used to-be fond of it at your age; but never so entirely wrapped up in
it as you are."

"No, sir; I am not going fishing again. I want to walk to Wellington, to
get some things at Cherry's."

"Books, Mr. Pike? Ah! I am very glad of that. But I fear it can only be
fly-books."

"I want a little Horace for eighteen-pence--the Cambridge one just
published, to carry in my pocket--and a new hank of gut."

"Which of the two is more important? Put that into Latin, and answer
it."

"Utrum pluris facio? Flaccum flocci. Viscera magni." With this vast
effort Pike turned as red as any trout spot.

"After that who could refuse you?" said my father. "You always tell the
truth, my boy, in Latin or in English."

Although it was a long walk, some fourteen miles to Wellington and back,
I got permission to go with Pike; and as we crossed the bridge and saw
the tree that overhung Crocker's Hole, I begged him to show me that
mighty fish.

"Not a bit of it," he replied. "It would bring the blackguards. If the
blackguards once find him out, it is all over with him."

"The blackguards are all in factory now, and I am sure they cannot see
us from the windows. They won't be out till five o'clock."

With the true liberality of young England, which abides even now as
large and glorious as ever, we always called the free and enlightened
operatives of the period by the courteous name above set down, and it
must be acknowledged that some of them deserved it, although perhaps
they poached with less of science than their sons. But the cowardly