AXGLING SKETCHES 



A BORDER BOYHOOD 



FISHER, says 

 our father 

 Izaak, is like a 

 poet : he 'must 

 be born so.' 

 The majority 

 of dwellers on 

 the Border are born to 

 be fishers, thanks to 

 the endless number of 

 rivers and burns in the 

 region between the Tweed and the Coquet — a 

 realm where almost all trout-fishing is open, and 

 where, since population and love of the sport have 

 increased, there is now but little water that merits 

 the trouble of putting up a rod. 



