"GOING NORTH." 13 



first business was to hear the report of the head- 

 keeper, who informed us that grouse were plentiful, 

 but strong on the wing and a trifle wild, but that in 

 his opinion the good shots of the party might depend 

 upon getting a bag of forty to fifty brace to each 

 gun. "Nous verrons," I mentally remarked; "I 

 don't think I shall be in it if that is the number 

 expected to qualify one to rank as ' a good shot ; ' : 

 but tc nous verrons" and I looked entirely satisfied 

 with the report, not leading that stalwart keeper to 

 imagine for a moment that I had any doubts on the 

 subject. 



Next we inspected the kennel. The setters and 

 pointers were all pronounced to be in high form. 

 Then dinner was announced, and the loch trout that 

 were served at once awoke a passionate desire in my 

 breast to be amongst them. What matters it that the 

 loch with an unspellable name, which I won't venture 

 upon giving on so short an acquaintance, is seven 

 miles distant ? What are seven miles to an ardent 

 disciple of Izaac Walton ? a mere nothing. What 

 matters it that the hills are steep and the miles long ? 

 Scotch miles are long, I am told. Of no consequence, 

 I assure you, when such trout are to be caught. It 

 is possible I may change my views on this head after 

 I have tried, being somewhat like that " minstrel" 

 we read of who found that the way was long and the 

 wind was cold, he having become infirm and old; 

 but I consoled myself by again observing, t( Nous 

 verrons" 



As I sit writing this a bright gleam of sunshine lights 

 up the steep hillside, dotted all over with snow-white 

 sheep, the clouds are rolling away, and a feeling of 



