ANGLING REMINISCENCES. 123 



of hills besides, rather grand-looking, but to my 

 taste very unsocial and grim-visaged. I fancy a 

 green, southern, flowery knoll before any of them. 



May. Tasteless impiety! thou'rt a monster of 

 prejudice, Doctor. 



Swivel. So be it ! But how shall we turn now ? 

 the river, you perceive, takes an angle, and should 

 we pursue it on towards the source, 'twill only be- 

 wilder us the farther. 



May. Then, Doctor, I must drop. Should the 

 inn be not at hand, 'tis useless to goad me on, I am 

 past remedy, and can take my chance upon the wet 

 heather until sun-rise. 



Swivel. Out on thee! thou art not so flagged, 

 Bill ; give me back my pannier. We must ford the 

 stream ; 'tis impossible that the King's-house lies on 

 this side on't. There is neither road nor foot-path 

 and road, of a certainty, there ought to be, or 

 Scotland is not Scotland. 



May. I protest against such daring. The river 

 is swollen and rapid as a race-horse; we shall be 

 carried off in a twinkling and never again heard 

 of. Many of the pools are whole fathoms deep. 

 There's peril in't, even in day-light but now 



Swivel. Be brave, Bill, be brave. I'll pick thee 

 a passage, man, will not overwhelm thee. Strangle 

 these Gorgons of thine, and follow me. See you, 

 the river is not greatly flooded, and this is no doubt 

 a shallow stream, although somewhat rough and 

 noisy. I shall feel my way with my rod. Not 



