THE PET BASKET. 99 



like a sharp instrument cutting the calves of my legs. 

 I scampered ashore, under the impression that I was 

 trailing after me some sharp-toothed monster, perhaps 

 a lamper eel ; when, upon passing down my hand to as- 

 certain the fact, I found to my great astonishment and 

 delight that I was once more in possession of my lost 

 line, hooks, fish, and all. The fish had fairly drowned 

 each other, and, by a curious coincidence, were passively 

 passing in the current at the time my legs stemmed it. 

 Originally I had what in Scotland is called a 2>oke or 

 bag to carry my trouts in. This being rather of a 

 coarse appearance, I panted after a basket. One of my 

 school-fellows had exactly the thing; and I bargained for 

 it by giving in return all my personal right in perpetuity 

 to two young hawks. Proud of my acquisition, I set 

 out with no small share of vanity, carrying my basket 

 through the whole length of a neighbouring village, 

 which was considerably out of the way. When I arrived 

 at the happy spot where my sport lay, I was successful 

 as usual. At length the declining sun admonished me 

 of some ten miles betwixt me and home ; so I resolved 

 only to take a few casts in a dark and deep pool which 

 was close at hand, and then to bend my course home- 

 ward. There I hooked a fine fish, which I was obliged to 

 play for some time, and then, after he was fairly tired, 

 to lift out with my hands, not having yet arrived at 

 the dignity of a landing net. In stooping low to perform 

 this process, the lid of my new pet basket, which from 

 want of experience I had omitted to fasten, flew open, 

 and two or three of my last-killed fish dropped into the 

 deep water immediately before me. In suddenly reach- 



