100 SALMON FISHING IN THE TWEED 



ane wi' Nancy, 1 and the ither wi' a Toppy, 2 baith 

 in Faldon-side Burn fut." 



And twisting round a coarse linen bag which 

 was slung at his back, and which I had supposed 

 to contain some common lumber, he drew forth by 

 the tail a never-ending monster of a salmon, dazz- 

 ling and lusty to the view ; and then a second, fit 

 consort to the first. Could you believe it ? One 

 proved to be fifteen pounds, and the other twelve ! 

 At the sudden appearance of these whales I was 

 shivered to atoms : dumbfoundered I was, like the 

 Laird of Cockpen when Mrs. Jean refused the 

 honour of his hand. I felt as small as Flimnap 

 the treasurer in the presence of Gulliver. Little 

 did I say ; but that little, I hope, was becoming a 

 youth in my situation. 



I was now fairly vaccinated. By dint of snuft 

 and whiskey, I made an alliance with the tenant 

 of the water ; and being engaged for that year to 

 join my friends at Edinburgh, and go on a shooting 

 excursion to the Hebrides and the north of Scot- 

 land, I resolved to revisit the Tweed the summer 

 following. 



It was the above incident that regulated my 

 residence, in a great measure, for above twenty 

 years of my life. 



A year had rolled on since this my first excursion 

 to the North, and I, Harry Otter, was again seated 

 in an open vehicle, enriched with fishing rods, both 

 of small and of ample dimensions; I must say 



1 A fly so called from Nancy Dawson, who was born on the Tweed, 

 near little Dean Tower. 



2 The Toppy will be described hereafter. 



