142 ANGLING SKETCHES 



wheel, the rock of the Righ-wheel, the rushing 

 foam of the Gullets, the woodland banks of 

 Caddon-foot. 



The valleys of England are wide, 



Her rivers rejoice every one, 

 In grace and in beauty they glide, 

 And water-flowers float at their side. 



As they gleam in the rays of the sun. 



But where are the speed and the spray — 

 The dark lakes that welter them forth. 



Tree and heath nodding over their way — 



The rock and the precipice grey, 



That bind the wild streams of the North ? 



\Vell, both are good, the streams of north and 

 south, but he who has given his heart to the 

 Tweed, as did Tyro, in Homer, to the Enipeus, 

 will never change his love. 



P.S. — That Galloway fly — ' The Butcher and 

 Lang' — has been avenged. A copy of him, on the 

 line of a friend, has pro\-ed deadl}' on the Tweed, 

 killing, among other victims, a sea-trout of thirteen 

 pounds. 



