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to be feared, will never again throw a line on his 

 favourite Yarrow. In the little parlour of the Inn 

 by the roadside, the Gordon Arms, in this locality, 

 many a most delightful hour has been spent by these 

 eminent men in recounting afresh their piscatory 

 adventures on the varied waters of the neighbour- 

 hood. It will be long before we see their like 

 again. 



It is delicious to ascend the valley of the Yarrow 

 in the month of June, when nature appears in her 

 loveliest attire. The woods by the skirts of the 

 mountains send forth the sweetest music. The 

 blackbird and the thrush pipe their richest notes on 

 " the green- wood tree;" and the gentle cooing of 

 the wood-pigeon falls with interesting softness 

 from the surrounding groves. Here, too, we have 

 the joyous lark, pouring a flood of melody in the 

 solitary wilderness. The wild bees, likewise, hum 

 among the honeyed blossoms ; and the scented 

 wind, breathing over the fragrant heath, plays with 

 the rustling foliage. Nor do all these fill up the 

 interesting materials of the landscape. We have 

 the soothing murmurings of the river as it falls over 

 its rugged bed; the sheep grazing peacefully by 

 the mountain side ; while on some distant part of its 

 breast the shepherd may be seen, wrapped in his 

 plaid, with his sportive dog at his feet, winding his 

 way up the deep ascent. 



When the angler arrives at St. Mary's Loch, the 

 general scenery impresses the mind with feelings of 

 loneliness and solitude. This sheet of water is beau- 



