Some Account of a Great Fishing Expedition.

 

There was an old barometer¹ of the banjo type in the parlour of the White House, which, whatever might have been its character for veracity² in former days, had now become such an inveterate³ story-teller, that it was pretty safe to accept as true exactly the reverse of what it indicated. One evening Mr Sudberry kept tapping that antique and musical-looking instrument, with a view to get it to speak out its mind freely. The worthy⁴ man’s efforts were not in vain, for the instrument, whether out of spite or not, we cannot say, indicated plainly “much rain.”

 

Now, it must be known that Mr Sudberry knew as much about trout⁵ and salmon-fishing as that celebrated⁶ though solitary⁷ individual, “the man in the moon.” Believing that bright, dry, sunny weather was favourable⁸ to this sport, his heart failed him when the barometer became so prophetically depressed⁹, and he moved about the parlour with quick, uneasy steps, to the distress¹⁰ of his good wife, whose work-box he twice swept off the table with his coat-tails, and to the dismay of George, whose tackle, being spread out for examination, was, to a large extent, caught up and hopelessly affixed¹¹ to the same unruly tails.

 

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