Then there were billiards; cards, too, but no dice;—

Save in the clubs no man of honour plays;—

Boats when 't was water, skating when 't was ice,

And the hard frost destroyed the scenting days:

And angling, too, that solitary vice,

Whatever Izaak Walton sings or says:

The quaint, old, cruel coxcomb, in his gullet

Should have a hook, and a small trout to pull it.[701]