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ANGLER.-With all my heart-here it is:

HONEST Will,

I wonder I heard not from you the last 'weeke. I send you an accompt of my wants: pray get so much money as you can, and brew the half-hogshead of strong beare, and 'put it into the little house' (that is the Flambeaux Tower you san) and one hogshead of small, which will require four strikes of mault, 2 for the strong, and 2 for the small: and I desire your wife to doe me the favoure as to brew them herselfe; remember to do it speedylie before hott weather comes, for I shall be verie speedily in the countrie. Send me Jack's height, that I may buy his coats fitt, and the height of my owne chambre, that I may fitt my bed. Desire your wyfe to 'looke in the trunke where my work lies, and 'send mee one that is fully finished, and one that is not, of the quishions in Irish worke, and the broad peece of quishion canvis, 2 ' yards broad that is unwrought; let me know how my garden grows, and tell John Gardiner that if I do not finde my gardens in ample 'maner when I come, that hee and I shall not bee friends: bid him send word if he would have any thing sent down for them. Mr. Upton remembers him to you and your wife, and desires to know whether his meare bee 'brought in bed or noe, and I desire to knowe

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how my black damsell doth; pray get your own horses in good case, in case I send for 'you, or you are to meet mee: remember mee

to all my friends, but especially to John Hayes, John Basset, Dic Ball, and tell him I will bring his cognizance with mee. Let us

'get the blew coate where wee can; desire your nephew to looke in my trunk of books, and there you shall finde a large booke in writing with a parchment cover, blotied on one side with inke towards the nooke of it, its of preserving & conserving, & send it up by this bearer, by whome I think I shall send you further newes of my coming downe, if Mr. Parker be not the cause, but however doe what I have desired. Send me word 'what's become of that gratious elfe Pud; so I rest,

PAINTER.-What a primitive kindness of nature there is in every line. I declare to you, brother, it is more deserving to be treasured up in an angler's cabinet than those Latin epistles

I have seen of famed Mistress Anna Maria Shurman.

ANGLER.-It is the letter of a careful and benevolent mistress.

HOST.-Aye, Sirs! and that she was indeed. Alas! if she had lived long enough, it had been happier for Mr. Cotton But she was snatched away, like a too delicate flower as she was.* Will it please you, Sir, to receive this letter? for I have some others by me.

PAINTER.-I thank you heartily, Mr. Marsh, and I may not decline a kindness so freely offered; and here is my copy of the fishinghouse, which is not worthy to be called a return for such a gift.

HOST.-Sir, my humble duty and thanks to you, and if ever you come this way again, and it please God I live, you shall then find this natural view of the fishing-house glazed and hanging up over my parlour chimney.

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ANGLER.-Well, I hope some happy day we may all meet here again and so let us to bed, and pleasant dreams to every one.

She died at the age of 38, as appears from a poem of Sir Aston Cockaine:- On the death of his dear cousin germaine, Mrs. Olive Cotton, who deceased at Beresford, in the 38th year of her age, and lies buried at Bentley, by Ashbourne.'-ED.

CHAPTER V.

The return of the Angler and Painter to Ashbourne, through Dove Dale.

ANGLER.-Well, brother, now we are come over the river into Derbyshire, and are arrived under Wolfscote Hill, tell me what you thought of our honest host at Alstonfields, and his charges.

PAINTER. I know not which to admire most, the good cheer and beds that he gave us, or the moderateness of the score. There we have lived like brave gentlemen for three days, and been most civilly and handsomely treated, and the charge was no more than I have paid for a day's reckoning at an inn in Westminster.

ANGLER.-If I may speak my real thoughts, I have not met a more modest and decently behaved man than Herbert Marsh; so I shall make honourable mention of him to all my friends that come to these parts, and recommend them to take up their lodgings at the King's Head.

PAINTER. And so will I. But whither are we going?-what a desolation is here!sure 'tis the world's end. I wish we might

return to that Vale of Tempe, by Beresford Hall, and Mr. Cotton's fishing-house for now, we are scarce come a mile, and you have only bald hills, with rubble stones that hang on the sides.

ANGLER.-It might all seem to be a dull kind of place, but for the windings of the Dove, that hurries fretfully away from this dreary region, which she would not touch but 'for necessity; and for her sake, I beseech you, excuse the want of other graces hereabout: for, trust me, by and by you shall find some master-pieces of nature's work. So let us follow whither she leads the way: and now we are come to Bigging Dale, that has the variety of some tufts of wood, and pointed

crags.

PAINTER. I see no beauties to marvel at; but I will put on my master's patience :--and see, here are cobbling stones across the river, that will give us a change, and a passage into Staffordshire.

ANGLER.-If you will be advised, we shall do better on this side.

PAINTER. As you please. But look; yonder is a pair of water-birds, dabbling down the stream before us. I hope they are Alciones, that is, our native king-fishers; or, as some will call them, Hoop-birds.

ANGLER.--It is an even lay they are waterousels; for you may always find them up and down about the Dove: nevertheless, they are hard to come at. But wherefore desire to have them Halcyons?