TOM PURDIE DIVERTS HIMSELF 251 



night, you might almost have fancied yourself in 

 the realms below, with Pluto and his grim associates, 

 embarked on the Stygian lake. But as the sports 

 began, and as the Scotch accent prevailed, the illu- 

 sion passed away ; for no poet, that I am aware of, 

 has made the above swarthy and mysterious per- 

 sonages express themselves in the language of 

 Tweedside ; nor could one fancy salmon in the 

 Styx, though they might well disport in the streams 

 of the happy fields beyond. 



" Now, my lads," says the master, " take your 

 places. Tom, stand you next to me ; Sandy, go on 

 the other side of Tom ; and do you, Jamie, keep in 

 the middle, and take tent to cap the boats well over 

 the rapids. Rob, do you and Tom Purdie keep good 

 lights and fell the fish. Halloo, Tom, you have 

 smuggled a leister into the boat for your own use." 



" Ay, ay, that have I, joust for mine ain de ver- 

 sion, ye ken." 



' Well, well, you may just keep it, for you are a 

 stout chiel, and it would be hard work to get it from 

 you ; besides, no one can use it more dexterously 

 than yourself. Now, then, we will push the boat up 

 the cheek of the stream till we come to the head of it. 

 That will do. Now shoot her across the gorge, and 

 down she goes merrily, broadside foremost, according 

 to rule. Cap, Charlie, cap, man ; we are drifting 

 down like mad ; keep back your end of the boat." 



" Aweel, aweel, she gangs cannily now ; look, 

 uncle, a muckle fish before ye ; or ever ye kent, the 

 maister's leister gaed through him, and played auld 

 dife. That side, that side, Jamie ; he's rinnin up 



