246 ANGLING LITERATURE 



North, Incomparable tackle ! 



Shep. Ear, far awa' doon the flood, see till him, sir 

 see till him loup loup loupin' intil the air, describin' 

 in the spray the rinnin' rainbows ! Scarcely cou'd I believe 

 at sic a distance, that he was the same fish. He seemed 

 a saumon divertin' himsell, without ony connexion in this 

 warld wi' the Shepherd. But we were linked thegither, 

 sir, by the inveesible gut o' destiny and I chasteesed him 

 in his pastime wi' the rod o 7 affliction. Windin' up 

 windin' up, faster then ever ye grunded coffee I keepit 

 closin' in upon him, till the whalebone was amaist per- 

 pendicular outowre him, as he stapped to take breath in 

 a deep plum. You see the savage had gotten sulky, and 

 you micht as weel hae rugged at a rock. Hoo I leuch ! 

 Easin' the line ever so little, till it just muved slichtly like 

 gossamer in a breath o' wun' I half persuaded him that 

 he had gotten aif ; but na, na, ma man, ye ken little about 

 the Kirby-bends, gin ye think the peacock's harl and the 

 tinsy hae slipped frae your jaws ! Snuvin' up the stream 

 he goes, hither and thither, but still keepiri' weel in the 

 middle and noo strecht an' steddy as a bridegroom ridin' 

 to the kirk. 



North. An original image. 



Shep. Say rather application ! Maist majestic, sir, you'll 

 alloo, is that flicht o' a fish, when the line cuts the surface 

 without commotion, and you micht imagine that he was 

 sailin' unseen below in the style o' an eagle about to fauld 

 his wings on the cliff. 



North. Tak tent, James. Be wary, or he will escape. 



