CHRISTOPHER IN HIS SPORTING JACKET 



the marbled heavens with clamour — and lo! in the 

 very centre of the mediten-anean, the Royal Family 

 of the Swans! Up springs the silver sea-trout in the 

 sunshine — see Sir Humphrey! — a salmon — a salmon 

 fresh run in love and glory from the sea! 



For how many admirable articles are there themes 

 in the above short paragraph! Duck, teal, and widg- 

 eon, wild-geese, swans! And first, duck, teal, and 

 widgeon. There they are, all collected together, with- 

 out regard to party politics, in their very best attire, 

 as thick as the citizens of Edinburgh, their wives, 

 sweethearts, and children, on the Calton Hill, on the 

 first day of the King's visit to Scotland. As thick, but 

 not so steady — for what swimming about in circles — 

 what ducking and diving is there! — all the while ac- 

 companied with a sort of low, thick, gurgling, not 

 unsweet, nor unmusical quackery, the expression of 

 the intense joy of feeding, freedom, and play. Oh! 

 Muckle-mou'd Meg! neither thou nor the "Lang 

 Gun" are of any avail here — for that old drake, who, 

 together with his shadow, on which he seems to be 

 sitting, is almost as big as a boat in the water, the 

 outermost landward sentinel, near as he seems to be 

 in the deception of the clear frosty air, is yet better 

 than three hundred yards from the shore — and, at safe 

 distance, cocks his eye at the fowler. There is no boat 

 on the loch, and knowing that, how tempting in its un- 

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