548 A TEAR OF LIBERTY ; OR, 



road. " By Jove ! they really are come ; run, run, and bring them 

 up one by one." For the first and only time in his life Willie 

 believed his master to be hopelessly insane ; the expression of his 

 countenance was a compound of terror, wonder, and distress, as he 

 glanced from the window in the direction of my finger. In another 

 instant he was clattering down stairs, and in the next was pounding 

 up again. Seven first-class animals were rapidly despoiled of the 

 five or six good feathers to be found on each wing, eight others were 

 indignantly rejected, and the moderate sum of Is. 9d paid for '' the 

 loan " made us rich for the rest of the season. The transaction 

 took wind, and for the rest of my stay waterfowl became a source of 

 anxiety to their owners. The mania for borrowing became universal, 

 nor did a single morning pass in which during breakfast my servant, 

 with a very broad grin, did not report, "Sir, the drakes is come 

 again." 



The flies were soon winged, the breakfast dispatched, and in half 

 an hour after my friend's mind was relieved on the score of his 

 master's supposed lunacy, we were trudging along the road towards 

 Mount Charles. The walk was a pleasant one, winding upwards 

 towards the moorland, and affording now a glimpse of the grey 

 ocean, now a clearer view of the brown hills. Passing through the 

 village, we soon reached the descent leading down to the bridge, and, 



as directed by our kind friend Mr. S , made straight for the 



smithy, where we found his trusty ally hammering with might and 

 main on a ploughshare at white heat. Having told our story and 

 craved his aid, the name of our friend proved a tower of strength, 

 and the best guide to the Inver flung away hammer, pincers, 

 and red hot iron, pitched a hat on his head, and marched straight 

 off to the nearest pool. 



With an extra foot of brown peat water, a more tempting 

 mountain river than the Inver cannot well be imagined. Many of 

 my readers, I am sure, have such a stream in their memory, now 

 sweeping along in broad shallows, now curling over rocks, and anon 

 resting in a darker pool, the head and tail of which are sure to hold 

 many a bright-eyed salmon and silvery trout. At one such as this 



