38 ANGLING & ART IN SCOTLAND 



loch-side in the morning, and saw the water dimpled 

 with rising fish, you naturally remarked, " Good 

 morning, Mr. Burnside, this looks a likely morning 

 for the fishing." " Na, na ! " he would reply ; 

 " thaat's no the right thing at a' ; there's a nasty 

 glassy g/are on the waterr ; " or, "I dinna like thae 

 nasty, white, tourin' paaks (high thunder-clouds) ; the 

 troot never tak' when they're aboot." The next day 

 we visit the loch it is possibly brilliantly fine, with 

 no cloud in sight, so we hazard the remark, "Well, 

 Mr. Burnside, there are no white towering packs 

 about this morning ; " to be answered with, " No, 

 but likely they'll get up with the day ! I fear there's 

 ower muckle Jire in the air the day." Another 

 occasion, I remember — a perfect fishing day with a 

 greyish sky and beautifully steady breeze from the 

 west — on arriving at the loch, I ventured on a word 

 of praise, and was met with several inarticulate 

 murmurs from Burnside — sounds as if he were being 

 wound up somewhere inside. At last these internal 

 noises formed themselves into words, and came out 

 as though under great pressure, with a burst — " I 

 like not thaat nasty 5/(7/^^ appearance on the waterr." 

 Although extremely kind, Burnside had much 

 dignity of manner, which might be said almost to 



