218 AN ANGLER'S HOURS xm 



secure. For my part, I know the burn not. 

 Of those which are known to me, most 

 are under the delusion that they are salmon- 

 rivers at the least, and worth about a guinea 

 a foot in good golden currency. Nor would 

 it now do any good if one endeavoured to 

 undeceive them ; the mischief has gone too 

 far, and so they had better be left to their 

 wrong-headed pride. 



With the brook, the honest, solemn, 

 Midland brook, it is different. No one 

 sings its praises ; few people even realise its 

 possibilities. It receives, perhaps, a certain 

 amount of unthinking acknowledgement 

 from the neighbourhood as presenting some 

 difficult jumps to a young horse ; but only 

 to one or two is it given to understand that 

 in this sluggish obstacle to the field are 

 such trout as those who fish in burns can 

 only dream of. I grant that the appearance 

 of the brook is against it : the water is thick, 

 not muddy exactly, but of a dark complexion 

 which makes it impossible to see to the 

 bottom where it is over eighteen inches in 

 depth ; the bottom is principally mud or 

 muddy clay, and the round sullen pools 

 are full of old stumps and branches : the 



