NORTHERN MEMOIRS. 117 



an equal fate to lose my exercise ? but from twig 

 to twig He traverse the streams, and examine 

 every bush to repair my misfortune ; so that at 

 leisure I may lie down, and lament my remiss- 

 ness, for, condemn'd by my self, there needs no 

 judg to sentence me. Hold a little ! I discover 

 some thing, either the stock of my rod, or a coun- 

 terfeit. So, so, 1 shall patch up my losses by find- 

 ing my rod, for it lay where I left it, and my 

 bag of flies lies not far from it. And now I have 

 a patent, I resolve to take toll, and examine 

 what contribution these streams will advance me. 

 However, lest precipitancy spoil my sport, He 

 preponder my rudiments ; and they prognos- 

 tiate here's a fish, or something like it ; a fair 

 handsel for a foolish fisher. But here's the old 

 game again that we had at Dumfreez. This 

 capering, for ought T know, may cost him his 

 life, for I resolve to hold his nose to the grind- 

 stone : dance on and die, this is the way to 

 your silent sepulchre ; for upon that silty gra- 

 velly shelf of sand, I resolve to land him, or 

 lose all I have. And now I fancy him weary 

 of life, as aged people that are burdened with 

 infirmities ; yet I want courage to encounter 

 him, lest fearing to lose him, which if I do, I 

 impair my reputation. However, He examine 

 my stock of confidence, and see how far that 

 will go ; but then I want a landing-hook, and 



