Se ANGLING Gf ART IN SCOTLAND 



I, when boys, happened to meet at the hotel at 

 Dairy two gentlemen from Dumfries, who told us 

 that the fishing on the river was at times exceed- 

 ingly good — especially after a flood. It was on a 

 Sunday in early June. The four of us, I remember, 

 had joined forces for a walk, with the object of 

 examining the old Earlston Castle, then much 

 dilapidated ; and while there, a heavy thunderstorm, 

 accompanied by drenching rain, caused us to shelter 

 in the ruin for fully an hour. The shower appeared 

 to be local, for on our return we found that not a 

 drop of rain had fallen at Dairy. In the evening, 

 after dinner, we adjourned to a favourite seat by the 

 river-side, placed against the wall of the old church- 

 yard, which faces the west and collects all the heat 

 of the afternoon sun ; — to such an extent does this 

 take place, that on a summer's evening, following a 

 fine day, the wall continues to give out a delightful 

 warmth long after the sun has disappeared. 



As we sat there revelling in the fine evening, 

 and toasting our backs against the friendly wall, a 

 curious phenomenon took place, which I never re- 

 member to have seen in Scotland, to the same 

 extent, either before or since. A dull, roaring sound 

 approached us from up the valley, and without 



