122 ANGLING REMINISCENCES. 



Swivel. But how are we to find it, Bill? Is't to 

 the right or left hand of us, think you? 



May. To the left, I opine. 



Swivel. To the left, then, let us turn by all means, 

 although I have my doubts on't. 



May. Doubters are alway in the wrong, Doctor. 



Swivel. We shall see, Bill. I marvel much what 

 Otter and Leister can be about at present? 



May. Snug at Bunaw, where we ourselves ought 

 to have remained, instead of trudging up this house- 

 less glen without their company, and at dead of 

 night too ay! and hungry as wolves, wet as fishes, 

 and weary as souls in purgatory. 



Swivel. Who is to blame, Bill ? 



May. Oh! of course, my unfortunate self. But 

 what could we miserable anglers capture out of the 

 broad Awe? not even a wretched par. 



Swivel. And what did we capture out of the 

 narrow Etive? Where were the hosts of sea-trout 

 you promised me, Bill ? the sparkling salmon and 

 capering grilses? Where that pleasant inn your 

 fancy pictured, overlooking a pool paved with fish, 

 so that from its windows we might handle our 

 wands, and, while discussing the contents of a 

 punch-bowl, land at the same time a sixteen pound- 

 er ? Glorious dreams, these Elysian visions, Bill ! 

 What a brief walk we had, besides, from Portson- 

 achan, level and void of roughnesses ; to be sure, 

 our eyes were well feasted ; there were heaths, and 

 brackens, and barked trees in abundance, and heads 



