NIMRO&S NORTHERN TOUR. 45 



the moment, there was just enough of light to see across it 

 and as 



' the western breeze 



Just kiss'd the lake, just stirr'd the trees," 



the reflection of the fine timber on the opposite side had a very 

 pleasing effect. But nature is never quite silent, even in the 

 night season ; and although the night-warbling bird was now ab- 

 sent, a quack from a wild duck in one place, and the alighting of 

 a widgeon in another, showed that the business of the day was 

 not quite at an end with them. With myself it certainly was 

 not; for in less than half an hour from that time I sat down to 

 a most excellent dinner at the cottage, and after the fatigue of 

 the run and the heat occasioned by it, the iced champagne of 

 Mr. Wauchope was more than usually extolled by all. Hunger, 

 they say, is the best sauce ; there was no need of that to heighten 

 the gout here ; but a good run in November creates a thirst 

 which it is delightful to slake at such a cool fountain as this. 

 That on Parnassus is a ditch to it. 



By-the-by, the mention of good dinner reminds me of the 

 fact that our noble host received a letter this evening, from Eglin- 

 ton, which very considerably damped his own enjoyment of it. 

 It was to inform him of the death, by his own hands, of his 

 French cook, who had coolly walked into a river to drown him- 

 self. " Independently of the loss of an excellent servant/' said 

 his lordship, " I shall be in an awkward dilemma, when my 

 friends come to see me at Christmas ; and I expect a large 

 party." His lordship, however, was here instantly relieved by 

 the offer of Sir David Baird to lend him his cook, also a profes- 

 sor from the same school. Lord Eglinton could assign no 

 earthly reason for this rash act, but hazarded an opinion that it 

 might not have happened had he brought him with him to 

 Dunse ; and there may be some truth in this ; idleness is the 

 parent of many crimes, and to a mind under the influence of 

 hypochondriacal passions, is one of the strongest incentives to 

 that of suicide. 



About the hour of midnight for fox-hunters seldom enter upon 

 the " morning revel" I was on my road to my bed, not in the 

 rough great-coat, with the " pumps in the pocket," but comforta- 

 bly stowed in the right hand corner of a yellow post-chaise, in 

 which were also seated Sir David Baird and Mr. Campbell. Now 

 we have often heard of a an agreeable companion in a post- 

 chaise" being advertised for in the newspapers, therefore I cau- 

 tion the public against accepting of Mr. Campbell of Saddell, 

 should he ever make a tender of himself to that purpose that 



