WHITEADDER AND LAUDERDALE 



* Maister B ! I thocht ye 'd hae kent who he 



waur. He 's won the gold medal of the club in 



Edinborrie twice rinnin', an' if he wins it the day he 

 keeps it for his ain.' 



* He 's not running for the train then.' The 

 watcher thought this a great joke, though it wasn't 

 intended for one, and laughed quite immoderately for 

 a Berwickshire man. 



* Na ! na ! he '11 nae be awa' frae the river afore 

 nicht, an' he 's the only member on the Leader too 

 the day.' 



* Where are the others ? ' 



He mentioned several other streams within forty 

 miles of Edinburgh, over which they were presumably 

 distributed. After another half-hour, inspired by the 

 superhuman energies of the gold medallist, which 

 proved things to be getting worse instead of better, 

 I reeled up and went home, devoutly thankful I 

 was not in for a piscatorial Derby and my reputation 

 committed to a breathless ten-hour fight against 

 untoward conditions. 



Next day in Lauder I met the man who was carry- 

 ing the landing-net for the Edinburgh champion, and 

 naturally put the inevitable query. The north-east 

 wind and the waning glitter of the day, it seems, had 

 defied all the efforts of even so great an artist, and I 

 learned that only a single fish was the reward of a 

 whole afternoon's labour. But my informant turned 

 out to be the local champion, and according to his own 

 account had arranged a private match with this hero 

 from the metropolis to which he looked forward him- 

 self with the utmost confidence. He told me he had 



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