122 GALLANT RUN WITII THE HOUNDS. 



yon lad of Yarrow, lie's going like tKe wind, 

 leaving Matt of Otterstone Lea, Torn Breckney, 

 and Wannio, but Matt is sair hoppled ; lie has 

 a grew in a string, and the clogs on, but take 

 time, he will got the galloway if he was at the 

 house ; but, ah ! waes me, his sister has been 

 out for a morning scamper, her faither has met 

 her, and he's on to the beast, and away after 

 the " hunds." " The doil tak' me faither, hell 

 kill the galloway. lie's sixteen stane cnyway, 

 forebye the heavy side saddle.'' The gallant 

 little pack are still crushing on their fox, aiming 

 now for Kersenberrie, or maybe Lisha holes, or 

 Witch Linn. But they are too far, so he 

 changes his course, and tries the holes at the 

 Forks. Ha ! niy old boy, there is a sneck be- 

 fore thy sncut. Away down the glen, his re- 

 lentless pursuers hot on him, past Ferny Knowe, 

 and into Looie wood, where they rattle him 

 round for a while, then all is silent. Is it a kill, 

 or is he lost ? Try the scroggs, rough heather, 

 and all the likely ling. Sweep the hounds 

 round the outside of the wood. Silent still; 

 lost he must be, but how or where? Try again, 

 it is useless wishing better luck next time. 

 There is nothing but home for us. The guid- 

 wif e of Looie is coming out of the byre, when 

 Lang Will shouts u my woman, hae ye seen 



