orward of him; and so, slowly, softly,
float up toward his nose. He appears to be inspecting the fly; he sleeps
with his mouth wide open; as a natural history philosopher might examine a
butterfly; and since it is so closely presented, suppose you try the sense
of taste too, Sir! It is pleasant to the eye, you will find it also good
for food, and to be desired to make one wise. Allow it to fall
imperceptibly into your mouth; nay, you cannot judge of its merits from a
half trial, like that; it must be taken entirely in. Don't exert yourself,
in the least; another inspiration, and you are possessed. Ha! is it not
good?--is it not sweet? He must be very fond of it, he holds on to it so
hard! Astonished fish! he wakes up, and opens his eyes with wonder; there
is more in it than he dreamed of! Strait up to the light here, and show
your agitated countenance. Now please to open your lips, and disclose the
cause of all your sorrows, while kind Mr. Piscator extracts it.

PISCATOR. Well hooked! Indeed, scholar, it was well done of you. But the
heavens are becoming overcast; it threatens storm. Would it not be wise to
set out on our return?

DISCIPULA. Oh no, no! I can't think of going yet? 'Wise!' It seems to me
that it would be very foolish, while the lake contains so many more fish
as good as any that we have already caught.

PISCATOR. You do not expect to take them all?

DISCIPULA. All in this place; what should hinder?

PISCATOR. They will not bite for ever in the same place. They are a
cunning animal, and get frightened.

DISCIPULA. Then let us remove to another spot.

PISCATOR. That we might do, if there were time; but the sun is entirely
hidden by clouds, and is near his going down. We shall presently have a
thunder-storm. And then a stiff breeze from the south, which will waft us
speedily toward our landing place; had we not better begin to think of
leaving?

DISCIPULA. Wait till I catch one fish more; I had a nibble just then.

PISCATOR. You should handle your rod more gently. The wind blows up
fresher and fresher; it will be dark as pitch too, when night fairly comes
on. Shall we not spread our sails, and speed merrily homeward?

DISCIPULA. Well, as you will, master; though really I don't see any
occasion for all this hurry. Look at that fish! He rose almost to the
surface after my hook, and yet wouldn't take it. Oh, my poor fly! my poor
bait! See it, master! All faded and worn and torn, no painting or patchin