n the gentleman the
fish."

"Show me the place, and I'll find the fish," said the anticipating
angler.

On they trudged.

"Must we go through the town?" asked his companion, as he marched with
his long rod in one hand and his can in the other.

"Yes, sir, it ain't far;" and he walked on at a quicker pace, while all
the crowd of rustics gazed at t e extraordinary appearance of the armed
Waltonian, for it happened to be market-day. After parading him in this
fashion nearly through the town, he presently twitched him by his
coat-sleeve.

"Look there, sir!" cried he, pointing to a well-stocked fishmonger's.

"Beautiful!--what a quantity!" exclaimed the venerable piscator.

"I thought you'd like it, sir--that's the place for fish, sir,--good
morning."

"Eh! what--you young dog?"

"That's where father gets all his, I assure you, sir,--good morning,"
said the youth, and making a mock reverence, bounded off as fast as his
legs could carry him.

SCENE XV.

"Vy, Sarah, you're drunk! I am quite ashamed o' you."

"Vell, vots the odds as long as you're happy!"

Jack was an itinerant vender of greens, and his spouse was a peripatetic
distributor of the finny tribe, (sprats, herrings or mackerel, according
to the season,) and both picked up a tolerable livelihood by their
respective callings.

Like the lettuces he sold, Jack had a good heart, and his attention was
first attracted to the subsequent object of his election by the wit of a
passing boy, who asked the damsel how she sold her carrots? Jack's eyes
were in an instant turned towards one whom he considered a competitor in
the trade--when he beheld the physiognomy of his Sarah beaming with
smiles beneath an abundant crop of sunny hair!

"You are a beauty and no mistake," exclaimed the green grocer in
admiration.

"Flummery!" replied the damsel--the deep blush of modesty mantling her
cheeks. Jack rested his basket on a post beside her stall, and drank
deep draughts of love, while Sarah's delicate fingers were skilfully
employed in undressing a pound of wriggling eels for a customer.

"Them's rig'lar voppers!" remarked Jack.

"Three to a pound," answered Sarah, and so they slipped naturally into
discourse upon trade, its prospects and profits, and gradually a hint of
partnership was thrown out.

Sarah laughed at his insinuating address, and displayed a set of teeth
that rivalled crimped skate in their whiteness--a month afterwards they
became