Or beckon, Naiads, to the southern vales,
Where his long liquid train the SEVERN(g) trails;
And where the might of more majestic Thames,
O'er finny nations, of unnumbered names,

Rolls his broad wave, and boasts, within his

bound,

High flavour'd Salmon through the world renown'd.

Propitious wind! It blows (h) against the streamI hope for sport: may hope not prove a dream!

(9) The Severn is the second river in England. It rises near Plinlimmon-hill in Montgomeryshire, runs fifty miles in that county, and receives above thirty rivers into its channel from the mountains of Wales, before it enters into Shropshire. It falls into the Severn Sea, or Bristol Channel, along with the Avon.

(h) The Salmon bites from the middle of April to the end of August, about nine in the morning and three in the afternoon, in a sunshiny day, that is rough and windy, especially if it blows against the stream.

In yon deep current may a Salmon lurk—

TACKLE (1) hold strong, and FLY (k) do well thy work!

(i) The TACKLE should be at least five times as stout as that for a Trout.

(k) FLY.-The Salmon will not often bite at a fly, nor at a minnow, but likes a worm, and in general takes all that a Trout does. He loves a large bait, especially a large lobworm, or two, exceedingly well scoured in moss, sixteen, twenty days, or longer, and rubbed over with oil of spike, or ivy berries, assafoetida, or turpentine, just before using. Of flies the natural ones succeed best, two or three on a hook. The artificial ones must be large and of the most flaring, gaudy colours; the bodies made with gold and silver threads, and with four, or better with six wings, standing one before the other, and both these and the tails must be long. A raw cockle or muscle taken out of the shell, or a prawn are recommended. The way to angle with these last is to drop your line with no shot on it, in a shallow, by the edge of any deep hole, and let the stream carry it in. They are very nice and whimsical in changing their baits. For SALMON-PEAL the best bait is a well scoured brandling bred in tanner's bark; but they will rise at any Trout fly.

A Salmon may my supper-table grace—
Yonder a huge one leaps-mark well the place.
My fly-rod will not reach—what need I care?
E'en let it rest-
t—a (1) LedgeR-BAIT prepare.
Now trust it to the deep-the rod resume—
Success from one or t'other I'll presume.

Ha! well done, fly! a leap! a Salmon-peal!
Strike smart! he's hook'd! now gently with him deal,

Give him more length of line-ply well the reel;
Now wind it in-he struggles still I feel-
Alternately thus play him, till he tire,

Nor fear your hook, if 'tis well arm'd with wire :

(1) LEDGER-BAIT.-If a Salmon leap out of the water, be sure there is a deep hole. If you cannot reach it with your fly-rod, use the LEDGER as near as you can to the hole, and a large cork float. Bait with a live minnow, loach, gudgeon, or dace at midwater; and some prefer that depth, or a little lower, with a worm; though it is common to fish that way close to the ground, either with a float or runningline. You may also trowl for him. Your hook must be large, and armed with wire, or whipped on to two hog's bristles.

Again I feel him, and his strength near spent,
To gentle force he yields constrain'd consent;
And now resistance vain, he nears the shore-
Now quits that element he'll skim no more:
Full fourteen inches is his measur'd size,
For any Epicure a dainty prize.

More luck! the cork, indicative, betrays Some bulky fish the ledger-bait does seize ; Now timely strike-was ever such a cast? A feast for twenty if I hold him fast: Salmon or Pike, but hold fast hook and line, To-morrow he shall a few choice friends dine: But from the fable let me, wisdom taught, Not sell the skin before the bear is caught. A monster 'tis, and if he do his best, My art and tackle will be put to test. Now giving play-now using gentle force, I sometimes follow his, and he my course;

At times stand still;-or he or I make play,
Uncertain whether his or mine the day;
But, each succeeding trial, glad I find

His spirit tam'd; or else his strength declin❜d.
Two hours thus are pass'd in deep suspense,
He keeps the pool, nor may I draw him thence.
As he grows weak, more daring gets my hand,
Cautious, though bold, I pull towards the land;
Elate with hope I see his scaly side,

A full grown Salmon, and the river's pride.
But, ah! he bursts away, and hope's delay'd ;—
Again my utmost skill must be display'd.

Repeated trials foil'd, he yields at length,
And in the landing-net spends his last strength;
Beauteous his spots, as now on land he lies,
Which growing fainter, vanish as he dies.