SCENE I. "Walked twenty miles over night: up before peep o' day again got a capital place; fell fast asleep; tide rose up to my knees; my hat was changed, my pockets picked, and a fish ran away with my hook; dreamt of being on a Polar expedition and having my toes frozen." O! IZAAK WALTON!--Izaak Walton!--you have truly got me into a precious line, and I certainly deserve the rod for having, like a gudgeon, so greedily devoured the delusive bait, which you, so temptingly, threw out to catch the eye of my piscatorial inclination! I have read of right angles and obtuse angles, and, verily, begin to believe that there are also right anglers and obtuse anglers--and that I am really one of the latter class. But never more will I plant myself, like a weeping willow, upon the sedgy bank of stream or river. No!--on no account will I draw upon these banks again, with the melancholy prospect of no effects! The most 'capital place' will never tempt me to 'fish' again! My best hat is gone: not the 'way of all beavers'--into the water--but to cover the cranium of the owner of this wretched 'tile;' and in vain shall I seek it; for 'this' and 'that' are now certainly as far as the 'poles' asunder. My pockets, too, are picked! Yes--some clever 'artist' has drawn me while asleep! My boots are filled with water, and my soles and heels are anything but lively or delighted. Never more will I impale ye, Gentles! on the word of a gentleman!--Henceforth, O! Hooks! I will be as dead to your attractions as if I were 'off the hooks!' and, in opposition to the maxim of Solomon, I will 'spare the rod.' Instead of a basket of fish, lo! here's a pretty kettle of fish for the entertainment of my expectant friends--and sha'n't I be baited? as the hook said to the anger: and won't the club get up a Ballad on the occasion, and I, who have caught nothing, shall probably be made the subject of a 'catch!' Slush! slush!--Squash! squash! O! for a clean pair of stockings!--But, alack, what a tantalizing situation I am in!--There are osiers enough in the vicinity, but no hose to be had for love or money! SCENE II. A lark--early in the morning. Two youths--and two guns appeared at early dawn in the suburbs. The youths were loaded with shooting paraphernalia and provisions, and their guns with the best Dartford gunpowder--they were also well primed for sport--and as polished as their gunbarrels, and both could boast a good 'stock' of impudence. "Surely I heard the notes of a bird," cried one, looking up and down the street; "there it is again, by jingo!" "It's a lark, I declare," asserted his brother sportsman. "Lark or canary, it will be a lark if we can bring it down," replied his companion. "Yonder it is, in that ere cage agin the wall."