NIM ROD'S NORTHERN TOUR. 5* 



And thou art the dearer to me, Mary Hay, 

 As a' else turns seary and life wears away. 



We maun part, Mary Hay, when our journey's done, 

 But Pll meet thee again in the world that's aboon ; 

 Then what gars thee stand wi' a tear in thine e'e, 

 And aye look sae wae when thou lookest on me. 



By whom these lines were written, I am unable to say. They 

 may be by Robert Burns, for I have no copy of Burns by me ; 

 but this I can say of them they are, in my humble opinion, 

 sweetly and tenderly poetical, and worthy the pen of any man. 



I offer no apology for this digression a passing tribute to the 

 memory of a lady who was so distinguished an ornament to the 

 society in which I myself first moved : 



Be it a weakness it deserves some praise, 

 We love the play-place of our early days. 



But to return to Dunse and the studs there. Amongst others, 

 as may be supposed, the stables of Mr. Cosser, the Dunse horse- 

 dealer, were not omitted in this morning's lounge. I have seen 

 it in print, that " an honest horse-dealer is a character written 

 in the dust," but I have met with honest horse-dealers before -I 

 saw Mr. Cosser of Dunse, whose character stands high as a. 

 man of integrity in his business ; as a spirited agriculturist ; as 

 a capital rider to hounds, although nearly big enough to be cut 

 into two ; and as a sportsman. His son met with a bad acci- 

 dent the season before last in the field. The horse of a brother 

 sportsman lashed out his heels and dreadfully fractured his leg, 

 but the fortitude he exhibited called forth the admiration of all 

 who were so unfortunate as to witness it. 



Saturday, 15. Lord Elcho met at Marchmont House, the 

 seat of Sir Hume Campbell, Bart., M.P. for Berwickshire, a fine 

 old place, and approached by an avenue upwards of a mile in 

 length. We soon found our fox, and killed him after twenty- 

 five minutes the pace good throughout. Found again at 

 Chouseley, and had a ringing run of an hour, when the " tod * 

 was killed by a shepherd's dog. Sir Hume was in Ireland at 

 this time, but his Lady's brother, Captain Spottiswoode (I 

 believe), lately arrived from that country, and a very good man 

 across a country, was out, and Sir Hume arrived very shortly 

 afterwards. 



The first whipper-in, Bob, had a narrow escape this day as 

 the hounds were worrying their first fox. One of the field in- 

 cautiously approaching too near to them, his horse kicked him 



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