THE PARTY.
67
THE REV. DR. FOLLIOTT.
Παπαπᾶι! Rarity of rarities! A Thames salmon caught this morning. Now, Mr. Mac Quedy, even in fish your Modern Athens must yield. Cedite Graii.
MR. MAC QUEDY.
Eh! sir, on its own ground, your Thames salmon has two virtues over all others; first, that it is fresh; and, second, that it is rare; for I understand you do not take half a dozen in a year.
THE REV. DR. FOLLIOTT.
In some years, sir, not one. Mud, filth, gas-dregs, lock-wiers, and the march of mind, developed in the form of poaching, have ruined the fishery. But, when we do catch a salmon, happy the man to whom he falls.
MR. MAC QUEDY.
I confess, sir, this is excellent: but I can-
