A BORDER BOYHOOD 31 



some six or eight to the pound. Are not these 

 triumphs chronicled in the ' Scotsman ? ' But they 

 cannot imagine what angling was in the dead years, 

 nor what great trout dwelt below the linns of the 

 Crosscleugh burn, beneath the red clusters of the 

 rowan trees, or in the waters of the ' Little Yarrow ' 

 above the Loch of the Lowes. As to the lochs 

 themselves, now that anyone may put a boat on 

 them, now that there is perpetual trolling, as well 

 as fly-fishing, so that every fish knows the lures, 

 the fun is mainly over. In April, no doubt, some- 

 thing may still be done, and in the silver twilights 

 of June, when as you drift on the still surface you 

 hear the constant sweet plash of the rising trout, a 

 few, and these good, may be taken. But the water 

 wants re-stocking, and the burns in winter need 

 watching, in the interests of spawning fish. It is 

 nobody's interest, that I know of, to take trouble 

 and incur expense ; and free fishing, by the consti- 

 tution of the universe, must end in bad fishing or in 

 none at all. The best we can say for it is that vast 

 numbers of persons may, by the still waters of 

 these meres, enjoy the pleasures of hope. Even 



