OX THE LYON. 187 



intense love of country gossip having even a slight 

 smack of the antiquary ; and, in truth, the drive 

 up Glenlyon afforded a fair field for his imagina- 

 tion and memory. From the gushing waterfall 

 on Chesthill Brae, with its mouldering brig, the 

 ruinous tower of Carnibarn, the old Popish kirk- 

 yard, the eleven elm-trees called, if I remember 

 rightly, " The Daughters of Glenlyon," and which 

 formerly did duty as milestones to the fat farmer, 

 within a trifle of 7 feet, whose weight turned a 

 beam of 30 stone, Danie had always subjects for 

 our admiration or wonder ! 



Three weeks of warm July days had dwindled 

 the Lyon to a thread when I saw it first, and on 

 asking a resident on its banks his opinion of its 

 angling capabilities, I received the following very 

 encouraging reply " Oh ! you mustn't expect to 

 do great things ; but if it comes a fresh, there's 

 one pool where you might get a fish, if you were 

 getting up at two o'clock in the morning." Plea- 

 sant prospects ! 



An almost uninterrupted succession of dry sunny 

 weather still kept down the river until the Lammas 

 floods. When the water was slightly swelled by 



