BOYHOOD IN GALLOWAY ii 



In those early days we were not overburdened 

 with luggage. Each had a large knapsack con- 

 taining all his spare clothes, and a black, glazy 

 mackintosh, which was usually reduced to ribbons 

 after a few severe scrambles up the burn-side on 

 wet days, and became — like the carpet-bag — a thing 

 of the past ; while our angling outfit consisted of a 

 fishing rod, fishing basket, and lastly one landing- 

 net — common property amongst the four of us. 

 We left the lochs severely alone ; and the trout 

 in the Ken — with its magnificent black pools and 

 enchanting scenery — appeared to require infinitely 

 more skill than we possessed, at that time, to lure 

 them from their watery home. But we found our 

 paradise amongst the smaller streams — the Garple 

 Burn, Polmaddy, Polharrow, the Deugh ; the last 

 mentioned abounding in small though very game 

 trout. And upon these burns we descended, form- 

 ing an imposing procession, to the dismay of any 

 local angler who might be out that day. Half 

 the zest of catching a fish would be lost were one 

 without an audience I again, the landing-net might 

 be requisitioned. I fished with worm, while the 

 others (with an air of vast superiority) had already 

 adopted fly — and I hated them for it. They gene- 



