of the pool. To increase the witchery of the hour, a little boat was on the lake, and the sweet tones of a flute, softened by distance, came stealing across the wave. The whole scene was of the same romantic character, and the enthusiast might have fancied himself in Italy, listening to the serenade of a lover, or the mellow canzonets of a gondolieri.

But as we approached Llangadock, where the mountains are wilder and more elevated, the sky became overcast, and the distant summits of Llynny-Van, swathed in a shroud of mist, reared their blue heads above the clouds. By the time that we had entered the town, a violent shower of rain assailed us. But when we came within sight of our cottage, the moor, the roads, the meadows, even our own plantation and garden, presented the appearance of one vast sheet of water. On coming within hail of the toll-bar, we raised the view hallo! our usual signal of approach, and were instantly answered, by shouts of "the flood-the flood." And sure enough there was a flood, and a devil of a one too. Our kitchen was knee-deep in water, our mill-brook rolled like a torrent; even the gutter aped a cataract, and our boots, hats, gloves, fishingrods, and fishing-lines, were coolly taking a showerbath. On rushed the torrent, with a tempestuous

roar, bearing down ducks, geese, blocks and barrels in its flight. To make the matter worse, it took a fancy to our wheelbarrow, which surrendered at discretion, and kept it company on the road. As may be surmised, we were decently soaked ourselves, and the neighbouring villagers no sooner heard of our arrival, than they came flocking in shoals to our assistance. Bail after bail, bucket after bucket, was used; and, after four hours' incessant exertion, we luckily got a peep at our kitchen-floor.

When the flood had somewhat abated, we discovered the combined corpses of two fowls, which were to be spitted the next day, floating very cosily along the Mill-brook, accompanied by a pound of butter, which joined the procession at the kitchendoor. There was, moreover, a good-for-nothing vagabond buttock of beef, which seemed inclined for a similar trip, and was actually moving off the larder floor, with all the easy unconcern of a gentleman. Luckily we got scent of its intentions, and, by the greatest dexterity, prevented any further elopement. On enquiring into the origin and probable cause of this cursed deluge, we found that it was occasioned by a cloud which had just burst upon one of the mountains in our immediate neighbourhood, and discharged its bile upon our

R

poor little innocent valley. It subsided, however, with as much rapidity as it rose; and at a late hour we retired to rest, to dream of massacred otters-run-away pounds of butter-truant poultry -and erratic buttocks of beef.

PIKE-FISHING

IN

Talley Pools.

THE village of Talley is a romantic spot, situated in the most sequestered part of South Wales. It sleeps, as it were, beneath the shelter of some lofty mountains, and is celebrated for the remains of an old ivy-clad monastery. Beside the little church which fronts the ruin, appear two large pike-pools, or tarns, surrounded by steep declivities, and forming marshes, at the water's edge, where moor-fowl breed, and the heath-flower blossoms. Upon this spot, so admirably calculated for the enthusiast or the sportsman, for the lover of nature or of roast ducks, Morgan, Drake Somerset, and myself, turned the light of our countenances one fine spring morning, and bent our steps towards the cottage of a friend whom I have mentioned in the Otter Hunt, and who resides in the immediate neighbourhood.

We reached the village at an early hour, and finding, as usual, every thing arranged for our arrival, hurried off to the scene of action. As the vast extent of the water rendered bank-fishing a vain employment, we had recourse to the Welch coracles, which enabled us to traverse it in every direction. Our bait was a somewhat singular one, and may perhaps astonish the sporting cognoscenti in England. It was a huge artificial fly, constructed on the rudest principles, and so independent in shape, as to set nature at positive defiance. Its length was about three inches, with a thick body formed of gaudy-coloured worsted, and wings of a jay or a bright mallard's feather, tied upon two large hooks, such as are generally used in England for the dead snap, but of course without lead. The rod was about four yards long, and attached to a strong whip-cord line of eighteen or twenty feet. The manner of throwing the bait is somewhat similar to trolling; except that the fish should be struck on the instant, and landed vi et armis.

As for our coracle, it merits an equally minute description, being singularly formed of wicker-work, covered with leather or canvas, and pitched, so as to render it water-proof. It is merely large enough to carry one man, with his nets and fowling-piece, and is worked with a paddle. In shape it is nearly