dchild was aware. Concealed by thick brushwood a few paces
farther on, a young angler, who might be five or six and twenty, had
seated himself, just before the arrival of our vagrant to those banks
and waters, for the purpose of changing an unsuccessful fly. At the
sound of voices, perhaps suspecting an unlicensed rival, for that part
of the stream was preserved,--he had suspended his task, and noiselessly
put aside the clustering leaves to reconnoitre. The piety of Waife's
simple grace seemed to surprise him pleasingly, for a sweet approving
smile crossed his lips. He continued to look and to listen. He forgot
the fly, and a trout sailed him by unheeded. But Sir Isaac, having
probably satisfied his speculative mind as to the natural attributes of
minnows, now slowly reascended the bank, and after a brief halt and a
sniff, walked majestically towards the hidden observer, looked at him
with great solemnity, and uttered an inquisitive bark,--a bark not
hostile, not menacing; purely and dryly interrogative. Thus detected,
the angler rose; and Waife, whose attention was directed that way by the
bark, saw him, called to Sir Isaac, and said politely, "There is no harm
in my dog, sir."

The young man muttered some inaudible reply, and, lifting up his rod as
in sign of his occupation or excuse for his vicinity, came out from
the intervening foliage, and stepped quietly to Waife's side. Sir Isaac
followed him, sniffed again, seemed satisfied; and seating himself on
his haunches, fixed his attention upon the remains of the chicken which
lay defenceless on the grass. The new comer was evidently of the rank of
gentleman; his figure was slim and graceful, his face pale, meditative,
refined. He would have impressed you at once with the idea of what he
really was,--an Oxford scholar; and you would perhaps have guessed him
designed for the ministry of the Church, if not actually in orders.

CHAPTER VIII.

Mr. Waife excites the admiration, and benignly pities the infirmity,
of an Oxford scholar.

"You are str-str-strangers?" said the Oxonian, after a violent exertion
to express himself, caused by an impediment in his speech.

WAIFE.--"Yes, sir, travellers. I trust we are not trespassing: this is
not private ground, I think?"

OXONIAN.--"And if-f-f-f--it were, my f-f-father would not war-n-n you
off-ff--f."

"Is it your father's ground, then? Sir, I beg you a thousand pardons."

The apology was made in the Comedian's