D UMB-FO UNDEBED. 115 



the apathetic man. He touched his bonnet to me ; 



and if he did not eye me with approval, at least he 



did not look envious or sarcastic. 



" Well, Sandy," said he to his piscatorial friend, my 



new acquaintance, " what luck the morn ?" 



" I canna specify that I hae had muckle ; for they 



hae bin at the sheep- washing up bye, and she is foul, 



ye ken. But I hae ta'en twa saumon — ane wi' 



Nancy*, and the other wi' a Toppyf, — baith in 

 Faldon-side Burn fut." 



And twisting round a coarse linen bag which was 



slung at his back, and which I had supposed to contain 

 some common lumber, he drew forth by the tail a 

 never-ending monster of a salmon, dazzling and lusty 

 to the view ; and then a second, fit consort to the first. 

 Could you believe it ? One proved to be fifteen pounds, 

 and the other twelve ! At the sudden appearance of 

 these whales I was shivered to atoms : dumb-foundered 

 I was, like the Laird of Cockpen when ]\lrs. Jean 

 refused the honour of his hand. I felt as small as 

 Flimnap the treasurer in the presence of Gulliver. 

 Little did I say ; but that little, I hope, was becoming 

 a youth in my situation. 



I was now fairly vaccinated. By dint of snuff and 

 whisky, I made an alliance with the tenant of the 

 water; and being engaged for that }-ear to join my 

 friends at Edinburgh, and go on a shooting excursion 

 to the Hebrides and the north of Scotland, I resolved 

 to revisit the Tweed the summer following. 



* A fly so called from Nancy Dawson, who was born on the Tweed 

 near Little Dean Tower. 



t The Toppy will be described hereafter. 



