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ON ANGLING. 81
MORAL. Then, Pundants wise, pray dont despise The humble writer's wish, Who fain would shew "Dont count, you know. Until you've caught your fish."
For if you do your reckoning false,
Your calculation's out, Upon the bank, you'll stand quite blank.,
Outwitted by a trout.
The morning looked grey—though a little suspicious.
We mustered at three in the Royal Hotel ; * The coffee, and tea, and the eggs were delicious :
There was roast beef and bacon, and brandy as well.
The breakfast discussed, and the trappings all ready, Our flasks full of spirits—>our hearts full of glee ;
The horses quite fresh, and the driver quite steady, For care or for canker we cared not a flea.
As wc roli'd up the street, where some sly ones lay snor-We sounded our bugle and gave a huzza ; Dn&
Yet still on their pillows their noses lay boring, While fast through the Scotchgate we sped on our way.
'Alias Kings's Arms, Berwick-on-Tweed.