47 



CHAPTEE III. 



ANOTHER PART OF THE RIVER. 

 Enter Two POACHERS. 



ist Poacher. Hand up your wand a bit, Watty ; 

 ye're playin' the deil wi' us a'thegither. What gars 

 ye wark the flees in that fashion ? 



2d Poacher. Faith ! man, it's no sae easy managin' 

 them as ye think ; there's a inuckle troot on the near 

 end o' the line. 



1st Poacher. Tak him in, then, an' dinna spoil 

 the lave o' the water ; there's twa fathom to ye, and 

 be canny. Gie these bits o' par a yerk into your 

 creel, and fasten on a hantle sawnion flees ; there's 

 a gude chance o' a fish amang thae rocks. It was 

 just here we hookit the thirty punder last Martin- 

 mas. Ye'll mind hoo it bang up wi' its muckle 

 head to the yallow flee, and awa, when it fand itsel' 

 ^rippit, to yon stane, and there it lay, like a clod, 



