A PERTHSHIRE GLEN 213 



and took a form which bore a strong family resem- 

 blance to its predecessors. 



" H'n, h'm ; — h'n, h'm ;" — (pause, during which 

 ashes of pipe were tapped out) — "Ay! — H'n, h'm; 

 — Chamm-berlain — Ay I Joe Chamm-berlain " — 

 (shakes of the head) — " h'n, h'm ; — h'n, h'm ; " — ending 

 with a long-drawn " Ay ! " 



This seemed to finish the conversation, for number 

 one now gulped down the remains of his whisky, and, 

 pushing back his chair, remarked " Are ye for awa' ?" 

 — to be answered with " Ay ; " and the two worthies 

 retreated. I then became aware that it had been 

 my privilege to overhear a Glendochart political 

 discussion. 



But to return to Don Malloch. It is only a 

 year or two ago that I had the pleasure of meeting 

 that remarkable old keeper, for the last time, ©n the 

 shores of Loch Dochart. It was on one of those 

 heavenly days that this uncertain climate of ours 

 occasionally favours us with in early spring, when 

 the sun shines with all its summer heat, while the 

 air is tempered by a cool though balmy breeze — a 

 breeze laden with those delicious scents which only 

 seem to emanate from the soil at that season of 

 the year. I had been for some time lying com- 

 fortably on the edge of the loch by the side of a 



