DOI Heft:
July 26, 1873
DOI Seite / Zitierlink:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.16937#0049
July 26, 1873.] PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHAEIYARL 37
THE INCOMPLETE ANGLER.
Chapter IV.
o iv the Scholar caught
a Pike.
THE SAME DAY.
Piscator. So we
are once more at the
river. Now thrust
your hand in, baited
as it is with the hook
and the red beetle,
which you have so
cunningly sewn to
your finger ; lie close,
keep yourself out of
sight, and, surely,
one of us will have
sport.
Venator. 0 ! 0 !
Master, 0 ! I have
disturbed a red ant-
hill ! 0!
Piscator. Nay, no
wonder, my loving
Scholar, since your
crying is enough to
disturb whole vil-
lages. I .fear me
you have not yet a
spirit suitable to
anglers. How sung the pious Sir Thomas de Bedlam ?
Though wasps may sting me through my hose,
Though ants and beetles bite my toes,
Though swarming bees hang from my nose,
Yet would I
Quiet lie
A Fishing.
Though snakes should bite, and leeches suck,
Though stags should jump at me and buck,
Though me in air fierce bulls should chuck,
Yet would I
Quiet lie
A Fishing.
Venator. I thank you, good Master, for the sweet verses of the
good Sir Thomas, and I do perceive that he did not introduce the
“ quiet lie ” into his song without intention.
_ Piscator. True. But I pray you use this occasion, while you are
silently awaiting a fish, to remember some catch, for to-night I will
take you to the Fishers’ Folly, where my Hostess expects my brother
Peter, a good angler, and a cheerful companion, who will bring a
Mend with him. There we’ll rejoice, tell tales, or sing ballads,
and pass away a little time without offence.
Venator. A match, good Master; let’s be going, for I am very
hungry, my clothes are still wet, and the red ants are wandering
about me, and I would fain move the bait and hook from my finger.
Piscator. Nay, stay a little, good Scholar, for I would make you
an artist. We shall have a bite presently. So do you lie prone
with your hand in the river, as I bid you, while I consult my book
of conceits and ballads, so that I may be even with brother Peter
and his companion to-night.
Venator. 0, Sir, I see you have finished your study. I have lain
here the while—these two hours—and not seen a fish stir. 0 me!
0 ! 0 ! Master ! A fish! A fish ! 0 ! He has caught me ! 0 !
He is biting my hand! 0 !
Piscator. Ay, marry, Sir,- you may well be proud of being taken
by the hand by such a monarch of fishes as he is. He is an over-
grown Pike, the biggest that ever I saw.
Venator. 0, Master! 0! Will he pull me into the water ? 0 !
Piscator. If he have firm hold of you, and prove the stronger, ’tis
more than probable he will. And I would have you to know that
this fish is the mighty Luce or Pike, and is commonly called the
Tyrant of the fresh water. So, do you keep a firm hold of the tree,
and with dexterous jerk you may land this fresh-water wolf, as he
is called by some writers.
Venator. 0, Master, he is biting my arm ! 0 ! I feel as though,
he were becoming heavier every minute! 0 !
Piscator. He is only assisting at his own capture, as the more of
your arm he contrives to lay hold of with his teeth, the firmer grasp
will you have of him when the moment for drawing him forth from
his native element arrives, and the surer will be his taking. Nay,
Scholar, you cannot be in pain, for the beetle, as I have told you,
suffers not in the least, either when he conceitedly writhes on the
hook, or when he is taken by the fish.
Venator. But 0, Master, if he remain as he now is, will not this
Pike that hath hold of me die ? 0 !
Piscator. I will tell you, Scholar, that unless the hook be fast in
his very gorge, ’tis more than probable he will live: and a little
time, with tbe help of the water, will rust the hook, and so it will
gently wear away. And now, while he hath hold of you thus, I
will sit down at ease, and tell something more about the Pike. The
learned Gosling observes, that a maid in Tartary was swallowed
whole by a Pike, and was never heard of again. The poetic Troh-
bonitts hath sung of him—
O’er dale and dyke,
O’er splint and spike,
Away! away!
To catch the pike !
The pike, the pike,
The fish I like,
Is worth a dozen cheven.
In sooth, I mean,
He’s worth thirteen,
But that would be uneven.
If upon a bank he lies
For two hours, then he dies.
Mourn the birds, and weeps the shrike,
All the fishes go on strike
At the death of Old King Pike.
Also my friend, Mr. Wagstaef, affirms that the gaiters of two
Polonian gentlemen, who disappeared about the same time and
place, were found near a pond on a high road, where formerly there
used to be a well-known pike, which had been known to stop horses,
cattle, carts, and everything that came its way. The venerable
Bishop Storteord relates how he used to catcb these voracious
monsters, after dark, by fastening himself to bladders and floating
down the stream with a reading-lamp fixed to his girdle, and a
spelling-book in his hand. Sometimes he carried bottles of hay, and
the flags of the various countries, through which he floated. There
are no pikes in Spain, and the roads are in a very bad state.
Venator. Would I were in Spain. Master ! 0 !
Piscator. So! Take him in his leap !—You have him. I tell you,
Scholar, fishing and catching are two separate arts.
Venator. 0 me! I am content. Shall we eat him, Master ?
Piscator. Nay, that will we not. Honest brother Peter and his
companion will bring a fine salmon trout with them, so we shall not
want for fish. But see! there in the meadow are two simple milk-
maids tending the sheep. We will speak them so fairly, that they
shall be glad to give us a leg of young lamb in exchange for our
Pike. So do you carry the fish, cans, nets, and tackle, while I hold
the rod, and will presently address these maidens.
Venator. 0, Master, the more buxom of the pair would be a fit
helpmate for an angler !
Piscator. Why so r
Venator. She is so Chubby. 0, Master ! I will never again make
so sorry a jest! 0 ! 0 ! 0 !
MARTIAL ORGANISATION.
Lord Elcho is reported to have told the House of Commons that
the physique and age of our soldiers enlisted of late years are lament-
ably below the standard held to be essential in Germany. If this is
so, wha,t wonder ? Where military service is compulsory the State
can pick and choose recruits, and chooses grenadiers accordingly.
“Of all the gallant heroes,” sings our anonymous quasi Tyrt^hs,
“there’s none for to compare (with a ri-tol-de-riddle-iddle-lol) to
the British Grenadier.” But now it appears that, in a general way,
the German Grenadier does, in stature at least, without the qualifi-
cation in our Tyrtieus’s lyric, excel the British. On the other
hand, however, let it be considered that, in these days of rifle-
shooting with precision, the soldier’s stature is of less importance
than it was ; and that, if our recruits are short, they are voluntary,
and bear great minds in little bodies—the latter, nevertheless, quite
big enough to serve the former efficiently in drawing the “ bead”
and the trigger. But there is another greatness of mind often
actuating a great body. Bodies and brains are not always commen-
surate, but great brains do in many cases go with great bodies, and
generally great minds with generally great brains, and then great-
ness of mind is intellectual as well as impulsive. Thus a greatness
of brains is apt to be accompanied by a great mind, amounting to a
strong determination, to take every possible care never to put the
brains in the way of being blown out. Hence, whilst little men
with little brains enlist willingly in the army of their country, or any
other, great men with great brains, too many of them, require
coercion to make them soldiers.
THE INCOMPLETE ANGLER.
Chapter IV.
o iv the Scholar caught
a Pike.
THE SAME DAY.
Piscator. So we
are once more at the
river. Now thrust
your hand in, baited
as it is with the hook
and the red beetle,
which you have so
cunningly sewn to
your finger ; lie close,
keep yourself out of
sight, and, surely,
one of us will have
sport.
Venator. 0 ! 0 !
Master, 0 ! I have
disturbed a red ant-
hill ! 0!
Piscator. Nay, no
wonder, my loving
Scholar, since your
crying is enough to
disturb whole vil-
lages. I .fear me
you have not yet a
spirit suitable to
anglers. How sung the pious Sir Thomas de Bedlam ?
Though wasps may sting me through my hose,
Though ants and beetles bite my toes,
Though swarming bees hang from my nose,
Yet would I
Quiet lie
A Fishing.
Though snakes should bite, and leeches suck,
Though stags should jump at me and buck,
Though me in air fierce bulls should chuck,
Yet would I
Quiet lie
A Fishing.
Venator. I thank you, good Master, for the sweet verses of the
good Sir Thomas, and I do perceive that he did not introduce the
“ quiet lie ” into his song without intention.
_ Piscator. True. But I pray you use this occasion, while you are
silently awaiting a fish, to remember some catch, for to-night I will
take you to the Fishers’ Folly, where my Hostess expects my brother
Peter, a good angler, and a cheerful companion, who will bring a
Mend with him. There we’ll rejoice, tell tales, or sing ballads,
and pass away a little time without offence.
Venator. A match, good Master; let’s be going, for I am very
hungry, my clothes are still wet, and the red ants are wandering
about me, and I would fain move the bait and hook from my finger.
Piscator. Nay, stay a little, good Scholar, for I would make you
an artist. We shall have a bite presently. So do you lie prone
with your hand in the river, as I bid you, while I consult my book
of conceits and ballads, so that I may be even with brother Peter
and his companion to-night.
Venator. 0, Sir, I see you have finished your study. I have lain
here the while—these two hours—and not seen a fish stir. 0 me!
0 ! 0 ! Master ! A fish! A fish ! 0 ! He has caught me ! 0 !
He is biting my hand! 0 !
Piscator. Ay, marry, Sir,- you may well be proud of being taken
by the hand by such a monarch of fishes as he is. He is an over-
grown Pike, the biggest that ever I saw.
Venator. 0, Master! 0! Will he pull me into the water ? 0 !
Piscator. If he have firm hold of you, and prove the stronger, ’tis
more than probable he will. And I would have you to know that
this fish is the mighty Luce or Pike, and is commonly called the
Tyrant of the fresh water. So, do you keep a firm hold of the tree,
and with dexterous jerk you may land this fresh-water wolf, as he
is called by some writers.
Venator. 0, Master, he is biting my arm ! 0 ! I feel as though,
he were becoming heavier every minute! 0 !
Piscator. He is only assisting at his own capture, as the more of
your arm he contrives to lay hold of with his teeth, the firmer grasp
will you have of him when the moment for drawing him forth from
his native element arrives, and the surer will be his taking. Nay,
Scholar, you cannot be in pain, for the beetle, as I have told you,
suffers not in the least, either when he conceitedly writhes on the
hook, or when he is taken by the fish.
Venator. But 0, Master, if he remain as he now is, will not this
Pike that hath hold of me die ? 0 !
Piscator. I will tell you, Scholar, that unless the hook be fast in
his very gorge, ’tis more than probable he will live: and a little
time, with tbe help of the water, will rust the hook, and so it will
gently wear away. And now, while he hath hold of you thus, I
will sit down at ease, and tell something more about the Pike. The
learned Gosling observes, that a maid in Tartary was swallowed
whole by a Pike, and was never heard of again. The poetic Troh-
bonitts hath sung of him—
O’er dale and dyke,
O’er splint and spike,
Away! away!
To catch the pike !
The pike, the pike,
The fish I like,
Is worth a dozen cheven.
In sooth, I mean,
He’s worth thirteen,
But that would be uneven.
If upon a bank he lies
For two hours, then he dies.
Mourn the birds, and weeps the shrike,
All the fishes go on strike
At the death of Old King Pike.
Also my friend, Mr. Wagstaef, affirms that the gaiters of two
Polonian gentlemen, who disappeared about the same time and
place, were found near a pond on a high road, where formerly there
used to be a well-known pike, which had been known to stop horses,
cattle, carts, and everything that came its way. The venerable
Bishop Storteord relates how he used to catcb these voracious
monsters, after dark, by fastening himself to bladders and floating
down the stream with a reading-lamp fixed to his girdle, and a
spelling-book in his hand. Sometimes he carried bottles of hay, and
the flags of the various countries, through which he floated. There
are no pikes in Spain, and the roads are in a very bad state.
Venator. Would I were in Spain. Master ! 0 !
Piscator. So! Take him in his leap !—You have him. I tell you,
Scholar, fishing and catching are two separate arts.
Venator. 0 me! I am content. Shall we eat him, Master ?
Piscator. Nay, that will we not. Honest brother Peter and his
companion will bring a fine salmon trout with them, so we shall not
want for fish. But see! there in the meadow are two simple milk-
maids tending the sheep. We will speak them so fairly, that they
shall be glad to give us a leg of young lamb in exchange for our
Pike. So do you carry the fish, cans, nets, and tackle, while I hold
the rod, and will presently address these maidens.
Venator. 0, Master, the more buxom of the pair would be a fit
helpmate for an angler !
Piscator. Why so r
Venator. She is so Chubby. 0, Master ! I will never again make
so sorry a jest! 0 ! 0 ! 0 !
MARTIAL ORGANISATION.
Lord Elcho is reported to have told the House of Commons that
the physique and age of our soldiers enlisted of late years are lament-
ably below the standard held to be essential in Germany. If this is
so, wha,t wonder ? Where military service is compulsory the State
can pick and choose recruits, and chooses grenadiers accordingly.
“Of all the gallant heroes,” sings our anonymous quasi Tyrt^hs,
“there’s none for to compare (with a ri-tol-de-riddle-iddle-lol) to
the British Grenadier.” But now it appears that, in a general way,
the German Grenadier does, in stature at least, without the qualifi-
cation in our Tyrtieus’s lyric, excel the British. On the other
hand, however, let it be considered that, in these days of rifle-
shooting with precision, the soldier’s stature is of less importance
than it was ; and that, if our recruits are short, they are voluntary,
and bear great minds in little bodies—the latter, nevertheless, quite
big enough to serve the former efficiently in drawing the “ bead”
and the trigger. But there is another greatness of mind often
actuating a great body. Bodies and brains are not always commen-
surate, but great brains do in many cases go with great bodies, and
generally great minds with generally great brains, and then great-
ness of mind is intellectual as well as impulsive. Thus a greatness
of brains is apt to be accompanied by a great mind, amounting to a
strong determination, to take every possible care never to put the
brains in the way of being blown out. Hence, whilst little men
with little brains enlist willingly in the army of their country, or any
other, great men with great brains, too many of them, require
coercion to make them soldiers.