CHAP. xvii. SONG OF THE FOSSIL-HUNTER. 279 



To field or to sea-side 

 Want courage to stray. 

 When fernies are withered, 

 And field flowers are gone, 

 Oh ! who would go hunting 

 Starfishes alone ? 



After that, Dick confesses that he himself feels very 

 dowie he says he is very unwell, still feverish, with 

 cough, cough, cough ! Nevertheless he appends another 

 bit of rhyme, to make Charlie laugh again ! 



Oh, gin ye was a fossil fish 



Long petrified in Auld Red Stanes, 



An' I a wanderin' found the rock 



That held the remnant of yeer banes ! 



How I would try to dig ye out, 



And send ye up to Lon'on fair, 

 Weel pack't and sealed, ye needna doubt, 



To rest at Rory 's * evennair ! 



Oh, gin ye were an Alpine plant 



That grew upon 'Jie mountains high, 



An' I a wanderin' found the plant 

 The little mossie burnie by ! 



How I would joy, if ye did 'scape 



The wintry winds and storms severe 



I'd pu' and put ye in my cap, 

 An' dry ye, for -a thousand year ! 



When Sir Roderick Murchison next visited Suther- 

 land, in August 1859, he was unable to call upon 

 Bobert Dick ; but he sent him the following letter : 



* Sir Roderick Murchison. 



