Stephenson: The Ettrick Shepherd 105 



and the bairns, it being so far off the way. I accordingly waited at 

 the inn and handed him out of the carriage. His daughter was with 

 him, but we left her at the inn, and walked slowly down the way as 

 far as Mt. Benger Burn. ... He leaned on my shoulder all the 

 way, and did me the honour of saying that he never leaned on a firmer 

 or a surer. 



We talked of many things, past, present, and to come, but both his 

 memory and outward calculation appeared to me then to be consider- 

 ably decayed. I cannot tell what it was, but there was something in 

 his manner that distressed me. He often changed the subject very 

 abruptly, and he never laughed. He expressed the deepest concern for 

 my welfare and success in life, more than I had ever heard him do 

 before, and all mixed with sorrow for my misfortune. . . . 



When I handed him into the coach that day, he said something to 

 me which in the confusion of the parting I forgot; and though I tried 

 to recollect the words the next minute I could not and never could 

 again. It was something to the purport that it would be long ere he 

 leaned so far on my shoulder again. 



Writes Mrs. Garden : 



In April of 1835, he was in Edinburgh, and one still living can re- 

 call how he accompanied him from Gloucester Place, the residence of 

 Professor Wilson, up to town, past the Queen Street Gardens, along 

 George Street, and thence to the North Bridge. The Professor with 

 two of his daughters convoyed the Shepherd, while his son and another 

 walked on in front. Probably many a head was turned as the stately, 

 picturesque figure of Christopher North, with his flowing yellow locks 

 and his broad turned-over collar, passed along. Some, too, would say, 

 "And that's the Ettrick Shepherd." James Hogg had once borne him- 

 self erect, and his step had been agile and light, and his fig-ure had 

 been familiar on Edinburgh streets for twenty years; but the Bard of 

 The Queen's Wake was now past three score, and there were gi'ay hairs 

 where formerly there had been only golden brown. Still he walked with 

 a firm step, pleased as he no doubt was, with the company of his loved 

 Professor and the two handsome girls who accompanied him. The 

 party separated near the University, and the Ettrick Shepherd was 

 seen no more on Edinburgh streets. 



"I' see, on looking at my note-book that I went to Altrive in June, 

 1835, and met with a very kind reception indeed. I showed Mr. Hogg 

 several pieces of poetry which I had received from various authors for 

 my intended publication, on one of which he made some pencil altera- 

 tion. 



"Next day he, Mr. Marshall, and I went to fish in St. Mary's Loch. 

 The wind was from the east, high and very cold. Mr. Hogg had not 

 fished long till he broke his rod. 'It is surely a salmon', he exclaimed, 

 'for he had sic a weight that he would not move after taking the hook, 

 but lay just like a stone at the bottom.' 



"Having thus lost his fishing rod he left us and went home. . . . 



- This letter from Mr, Shearer, and the two followins' are quoted "by Jlrs. Garden. 



