Let them that will, these pastimes still pursue,
And on such pleasing fancies feed their fill;
So I the fields and meadows green may view,
And daily by fresh rivers walk at will,
Among the daisies and the violets blue,
Red hyacinth and yellow daffodil.*
On parting with the old angler I inquired after his place of
abode, and, happening to be in the neighborhood of the village a
few evenings afterwards, I had the curiosity to seek him out. I
found him living in a small cottage containing only one room, but
a perfect curiosity in its method and arrangement. It was on the
skirts of the village, on a green bank a little back from the
road, with a small garden in front stocked with kitchen herbs and
adorned with a few flowers. The whole front of the cottage was
overrun with a honeysuckle. On the top was a ship for a
weathercock. The interior was fitted up in a truly nautical
style, his ideas of comfort and convenience having been acquired
on the berth-deck of a man-of-war. A hammock was slung from the
ceiling which in the daytime was lashed up so as to take but
little room. From the centre of the chamber hung a model of a
ship, of his own workmanship. Two or three chairs, a table, and a
large sea-chest formed the principal movables.
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