78 Burnside. 



the blue becomes more and more intense, and a fine diapha- 

 nous haze alone leaves a suspicion of the night that has just 

 departed. 



A low, murmuring ripple of laughing water breaks on my 

 ear, slowly changing into a noisy burst as I approach it, and 

 eddying whirls breaking over each other in mad confusion 

 are clearly pictured in my imagination. When I reach the 

 little moss-grown bridge under which the mountain torrent 

 hisses and boils and bubbles, dashing against the rocky 

 masses in its bed to be thrown back noisily, whirling and 

 gurgling, upon the waters below, a pleasant roar of jocund 

 screaming rises from the waters, shutting out all other 

 sounds, and raising my spirits to the same exhilarating level 

 that the water itself has reached. 



For a hundred yards or so on both sides a narrow sward 

 of greenest grass rises gently towards the foot of the moun- 

 tains ; from this spring large oaks and ash-trees, which rise 

 proudly from their bright and grassy bed, and throw out 

 their massive arms and interlace their branches to form 

 a canopy under which the mountain torrent flows noisil} r , 

 throwing its spray here and there upon the lower branches. 

 Truly here if anywhere one feals that 



" No spell could stay the living tide,' 

 Or charm the rushing stream." 



Below the bridge the bed widens, and the burn runs more 

 slowly, soon terminating its existence by flowing into the 

 broad waters of Loch Goil. 



As I face the north a larch plantation breaks upon my 

 view, backed by a dense thicket of pines, and farther behind, 

 by a rocky mountainous peak. How brilliant is the green 

 of the young shoots of the larch ! What a contrast it pre- 



