FISH AND FISHING 



IN THE 



LONE GLENS OF SCOTLAND. 



PART I. 



INTRODUCTION. 



TO-DAY is the first of May. It is mid-day. The sun shines 

 brightly on the smooth and gently flowing Thames, as its waters 

 sweep from Kingston to Richmond. Half way stands the oak 

 under which he who sang the" Hymn to the Seasons" sat gazing 

 listlessly on the tranquil stream emblem of his own mind. So- 

 journing long in a strange land he had adopted it for his own; 

 its scenery, sky, river, people. He had exchanged the banks of 

 the crystal Tweed for the still more placid Thames, and the 

 peaceful highly cultivated vale of Roxburgh for a still more 

 fertile land. They differ but little; and thus, whether on Tweed 

 side or by Thames bank, whether at Roxburgh or Kingston, the 

 bard from Scotland but not of Scotland, was an English poet ; 

 not so immortal Burns : your mind and your country were one. 

 You alone pourtrayed in telling words the scenes of which I am 

 about to speak. Ayr and Doone, Yarrow and Tweed, Annan 

 and Nith, Gala and Ettrick; to the banks of these rivers and 

 streams, and waters, let me lead the angler, and show him what 

 true angling means. 



I sit by Thames bank, but 



"My heart is not here ;" 

 B 



