er, lower and lower every week; no amount of
rain will then make any perceptible increase to the volume of the
stream, and not until the nights begin to lengthen out and the autumnal
gales have done their work will the water rise again to its normal
height. If you ask Tom Peregrine why these things are so, he will only
tell you that after a few gales the "springs be _frum_." The word
"frum," the derivation of which is, Anglo-Saxon, "fram," or "from" =
strong, flourishing, is the local expression for the bursting of
the springs.

Our friend Tom Peregrine is full of these quaint expressions. When he
sees a covey of partridges dusting themselves in the roads, he will tell
you they are "bathering." A dog hunting through a wood is always said to
be "breveting." "I don't like that dog of So-and-so's, he do 'brevet'
so," is a favourite saying. The ground on a frosty morning "scrumps" or
"feels scrumpety," as you walk across the fields; and the partridges
when wild, are "teert." All these phrases are very happy, the sound of
the words illustrating exactly the idea they are intended to convey.
Besides ordinary Gloucestershire expressions, the keeper has a large
variety that he has invented for himself.

When the river comes down clear, it is invariably described as like
looking into a gin bottle, or "as clear as gin." A trout rising boldly
at a fly is said to "'quap' up," or "boil up," or even "come at it like
a dog." The word "mess" is used to imply disgust of any sort: "I see one
boil up just above that mess of weed"; or, if you get a bit of weed on
the hook, he will exclaim, "Bother! that mess of weed has put him down."
Sometimes he remarks, "Tis these dreadful frostis that spiles
everything. 'Tis enough to sterve anybody." When he sees a bad fisherman
at work, he nods his head woefully and exclaims, "He might as well throw
his 'at in!" Then again, if he is anxious that you should catch a
particular trout, which cannot be persuaded to rise, he always says,
"Terrify him, sir; keep on terrifying of him." This does not mean that
you are to frighten the fish; on the contrary, he is urging you to stick
to him till he gets tired of being harassed, and succumbs to temptation.
All these quaint expressions make this sort of folk very amusing
companions for a day's fishing.

It is eleven o'clock; let us walk down stream until we come to a bend in
the river where the north-east wind is less unfavourable than it is in
most parts. Ther