172 DAYS STOLEN FOR SPORT 



the boys, who had often eaten this fruit in Devon- 

 shire pies but had never seen it growing. 



They were gone for quite two hours, and I had 

 another long rest, mused, and wrote some notes in 

 the httle dell that formed my world, where every- 

 thing seemed perfect and perfectly arranged. The 

 ferns were of every shade, and, up amongst them 

 and above their heads, were the canes with berries 

 of ghttering red, looking lilve gems, dotted so lavishly 

 as if there were, as there is, no limit to Nature's bounty. 

 Above these again the hazel bushes, laden with nuts, 

 hung down in graceful bends that said quite plainly, 

 'I protect the lesser plants below.' Still higher up were 

 the spreading branches of tall ash-trees, decked out 

 with their lovely fluttering leaves, and appearing much 

 too proud to look down upon what they shaded. 



The musing fit has left me, and I am wide awake 

 again and wondering what can keep the boys so 

 long. I know the}^ will return this way, that's a family 

 faith, so what shall I do to give them some surprise 

 beyond the mild one of seeing how 'worts' grow. 

 The bum whispers, 'Tickle a trout and prove that you 

 are as young as flattering friends sometimes vow you 

 are.' 'What fools we old men are 1' so said the gay 

 Lord Quex. How easily fooled we are with pretty 

 words from smiling lips; but it is putting their flattery 

 to the severest test when an old man attempts to 

 tickle trout. 



Here come the boys, and I'll get the artist (if I can) 

 to take a photo of the spot I have been dreaming 

 in. 



Our next stay was to be at Glenshiel, a ten miles' 

 drive, the first three being on a good level road. Then 

 came four miles of climbing, which,, for the horses' 

 sake, we walked, followed by a three miles' descent 

 on a sloping road, with such a precipice on the lower 

 side that we chose to walk this portion for our own 

 sake. We were glad that we were walking when at one 



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