in,
the spring and autumnal flies are by far the most killing. The Usk was
formerly a very productive trout-stream, and the fish being well fed by
the worms washed down by the winter floods, were often in good season,
cutting red, in March and the beginning of April: and at this season the
blues and browns, particularly when the water was a little stained after
a small flood, afforded the angler good sport. In Herefordshire and
Derbyshire, where trout and grayling are often found together, the same
periods are generally best for angling; but in the Dove, Lathkill, and
Wye, with the natural May-fly many fish may be taken; and in old times,
in peculiarly windy days, or high and troubled water, even the
artificial May-fly, according to Cotton, was very killing.

Here we must end, at least _for the present_; but there is so much
anecdotical pleasantry in _Salmonia_ that we might continue our extracts
through many columns, and we are persuaded, to the gratification of the
majority of our readers. Even when we announced the publication of this
work a few weeks since, we were led to anticipate the delight it would
afford many of our esteemed correspondents, especially our friend
_W.H.H._, who has "caught about forty trout in two or three hours" in
the rocky basins of Pot-beck, &c.[5]

Sir Humphry Davy mentions the Wandle in Surrey, as we have quoted; but
he does not allude to the trout-fishing in the Mole, in the Vale of
Leatherhead in the same county. There are in the course of the work a
few expressions which make humanity shudder, and would drive a
Pythagorean to madness,[6] notwithstanding the ingenuity with which the
author attempts to vindicate his favourite amusement.

* * * * *

SHROPSHIRE AND WELSH GIRLS.

There are few Londoners who in their suburban strolls have failed to
notice the scores of _female_ fruit-carriers by whose toil the markets
are supplied with some of their choicest delicacies. As an interesting
illustration of the meritorious character of these handmaids to luxury,
I send you the following extract from Sir Richard Phillips's _Walk from
London to Kew_.

PHILO.

In the strawberry season, hundreds of women are employed to carry that
delicate fruit to market on their heads; and their industry in
performing this task is as wonderful, as their remuneration is unworthy
of the opulent classes who derive enjoyment from their labour. They
consist, for the most part, o