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CHAPTER I.
A Conference betwixt an Angler, a Hunter, and a Professor; concerning angling, and the beautifying of Thomas his Quadrangle, The Ballad of 'The Wandering Burgess.'
PISCATOR, VENATOR.
Piscator. My honest Scholar, we are now arrived at the place whereof I spake, and trust me, we shall have good sport. How say you? Is not this a noble Quadrangle we see around us? And be not these lawns trimly kept, and this lake marvellous clear?
Venator. So marvellous clear, good Master, and withal so brief in compass, that methinks, if any fish of a reasonable bigness were therein, we must perforce espy it. I fear me there is none.
