JANUARY 13 



Mertotin, Chiefswood, Huntley Burn, Allerley ! when shall 

 I forget you 1 ' 



Then, for a character sketch, what could beat ' Tom 

 Purdie's muckle fish'? True, it is a dark deed that 

 is related, one that every legitimate sportsman is bound 

 to reprobate ; for these were the old, wicked days when 

 leistering was lawful, and the muckle fish was an 

 enormous kipper in Caberston Throat ' mair like a 

 red stirk than aught else ' so huge that Tom believed 

 it was the Devil himself tempting him to break the 

 Sabbath. He had broken it, indeed, by spying the 

 water instead of going to Traquair Kirk ; but he had 

 the grace to wait till midnight, till he roused the ' nout- 

 herd callant ' to go in quest of the mighty kipper. How 

 they found it, how Tom struck it, and how the fourteen- 

 pound leister ' stottit off his back as if he had been a 

 bag o' wool,' must be read in the original taken down 

 from Tom's lips. Tom rarely missed his aim, and at 

 first he felt convinced that he had had Satan to deal 

 with. A few minutes' reflection, and, his blood being 

 up, he argued himself and Sandy into the belief that 

 the Devil could never have shown himself in broad 

 daylight on the Sabbath. It must be a fish after all ; 

 they renewed the assault; and, after a fearful tussle, 

 secured their quarry, which was so big that ' as I waded 

 the water wi' him, leadin' Sandie by the hand, his neb 

 was above my head, an' his tail plash'd in the water 

 on my heels.' 



