ADMIRAL JOHN PAUL JONES. 59 



Ye've heard of Paul Jones, 



Have ye not, have ye not ? 

 Ye've heard of Paul Jones, 



Have ye not, have ye not ? 

 Ye've heard of Paul Jones, &c. BORDER SONG. 



JOURNEY TO THE SOLWAY FROM DALMELLINGTON BY THE 

 LOCH OF KEN. 



dn a soft autumnal day, such as rarely occurs in Scotland, 

 my good grey mare and gig were ordered to be ready betimes in 

 the morning. My companion and I (anglers should have no 

 companions) were preparing to leave Dalmellington, where we 

 had been residing for some days ; we had fished Loch Doone ; 

 gazed at the Eagles' Crag ; scanned from the heights the wildest 

 part of Ayrshire ; to all this, I said, we shall return some day ; 

 let us, in the meantime, visit the Loch of Ken, St. Mary's Isle, 

 and the desolate shores of the stormy Solway. A true angler, 

 I am persuaded, must be born such ; he cannot become so by 

 education. There is no education in it it is all romance. A 

 love of the lovely, the wild and solitary, characterize ths 

 northern angler ; with him the purple heath, the rained castle, 

 the melancholy bleating of the innocent sheep, the solemn 

 stillness of the heath-clad desert, the deep cauldron linn and 

 stream, pure as the crystal, as it leaps and rushes down rocky 

 wooded dells, are objects in the contemplation of which he never 

 wearies. With him there is no ennui, whether he climb the 

 Cheviot or his path lie by Tweed's calmer and classic banks : 

 Tweed, famed in song and story, sung and told by those now 

 numbered with the dead. 



Our way lay eastward. Magic word ! eastward ! Why is it 

 that we love to travel towards the east? Freedom moves 

 westward, and has done so for ages. Do men follow the sun in 

 pursuit of the real, and salute his rising when longing for the 

 ideal ? Hope turns us towards the east ; reality to the west. 

 But let us journey onwards, lest we reach riot the Solway before 

 the setting rays of that bright orb, the god of this lower world, 

 shall have gilded the summits of the Eagles' Crag, which is still 

 in view. And now, journeying slowly along, the huge and 

 massive Carsphairn rises on our left, stony and steep, unprofit- 



