96 DAYS STOLEN FOR SPORT 



bends that said quite plainly : " I protect the lesser 

 plants below." Still higher up were the spreading 

 branches of tall ash-trees, decked out with their 

 lovely fluttering leaves, and appearing much too 

 proud to look down upon what they shaded. 



The musing fit has left me and I am wide awake 

 again and wondering what can keep the boys so 

 long. I know they will return this way, that's a 

 family faith, so what shall I do to give them 

 some surprise beyond the mild one of seeing how 

 ' 'worts" grow. The burn whispers: "Tickle a 

 trout and prove that you are as young as flattering 

 friends sometimes vow you are." " What fools we 

 old men are ! " so said the gay Lord Quex. How 

 easily fooled we are with pretty words from smiling 

 lips ; but it is putting their flattery to the severest 

 test when an old man attempts to tickle trout. 



Here come the boys and I'll get the artist (if 

 I can) to take a photo of the spot I have been 

 dreaming in. 



Our next stay was to be at Glenshiel, a ten miles' 

 drive, the first three being on a good level road. 

 Then came four miles of climbing which, for the 

 horses' sake, we walked, followed by a three miles' 

 descent on a sloping road, with such a precipice on 

 the lower side that we chose to walk this portion 

 for our own sake. We were glad that we were 

 walking when at one place the horses shied alarm- 

 ingly. The only explanation given to us for this 

 sudden show of spirit was the driver's remark, as 

 he looked at the stone-dotted hillside : " I wonder 

 who has been rolling that one down and turning it 

 the wrong side up." 



The road winds first this way and then that, in 



