FAREWELL FEAST OF ANGLING CLUB. 193 



blue eye, reflecting nature in its joyous sphere ? 

 by the forehead, solemn and lofty, in which the mind 

 performs its mysteries, where the fragment of divi- 

 nity in man upholds him in communion with his 

 Maker ? This is not a small creel pendant from his 

 shoulders, and it is filled to the saugh-lid with clear, 

 star-sided fish, elf-dolphins, a fairy gift from a kind 

 water-sprite to our Shepherd-bard. 



A DAY'S ANGLING WITH THE ETTRICK SHEPHERD. 



I dream ! This is a past irrevocable vision yet I 

 remember it as of yesterday! Does it not seem 

 like yesterday when we twain set forth from under 

 the roof of Tibby Shiels, our hostess on St. Mary's 

 Loch, to angle together far up among the hills in the 

 burn of Winterhope ? It was a half-drizzily, half- 

 rainy morning, with a dash or two of wind at intervals, 

 which considerably agitated the sheet of water, along 

 whose margin, at outset, our road lay. Thick masses 

 of mist floated across the heights, and the distant 

 ravines, giving egress to a number of small torrents, 

 mingled their continuous roar with the occasional gusts 

 of the dying storm. An uncharitable sort of day it 

 seemed for our angling excursion ; but we had the 

 expectation and trust that matters would mend, and 

 so trudged on, in teeth of the weather. 



After leaving the loch-side, our way led up a small 

 glen, bisected by a black, mossy brook, on reaching 



