22 



THE ANGLER'S SOUVENIR. 



departing day ; the winds are sleeping, and so are 

 the birds lark and linnet, blackbird and thrush : 

 the leaves of the aspen are seen to move, but not 

 heard to rustle : the bubbling of the stream, as it 

 hurries on over rocks and pebbles, is only heard. 

 The angler's mind is filled with unutterable 

 thoughts with wishes pure, and aspirations high. 

 From his heart he pours, as he turns towards home, 



" Thanks to the glorious God of Heaven, 

 Which sent this summer day." 



The exercise which the angler takes when fly- 

 fishing is no less conducive to the health of his 

 body, than the influence of pleasing objects con- 

 tributes to a contented mind. He is up in the 

 summer morning with the first note of the lark ; 

 and ere he return at noon he has walked twenty 



miles ; 



By burn and flow'ry brae, 

 Meadow green and mountain grey," 



and has ate nothing since he despatched a hasty 

 breakfast of bread and milk about four in the 

 morning ; nor drank, except a glass of Cogniac or 

 Glenlivat, qualified with a dash of pure spring 

 water from the stone trough of a wayside well see 

 it here on his way home. When he goes to the 

 water-side, as it is more than likely that he will 

 have to wade, he puts on a pair of lambswool socks 

 and an extra pair in his pocket. Should his feet 

 be wet when he leaves off fishing, he exchanges his 

 wet socks for a pair of dry ones, and walks home in 



