s kind--by wading knee
deep in the Leader, and then standing on cold rocks, fishing by the
hour; in which process I did catch--cold, but nothing else; for, though
the water is still drowning deep in some beautiful brown pools, set in
the rocks like huge cairngorms, it is, for the most part, so shallow,
and everywhere so clear with the long-continued drought, that the
spotted trout and silver eels see me quite as well as I see them, and
behave accordingly, avoiding me more successfully, but quite as
zealously, as I seek them....

Our party has hitherto consisted of Emily de Viry, an uncle and brother
of Mrs. Mitchell's, and a London banker, a friend of hers. This, with
the "liveliness" of the neighborhood, with whom we have dined, and who
have dined with us, has been our society.

Next week Lady M----, who has been on a visit at Dunse Castle, returns,
and various people are coming from sundry places; but, except the Comte
de Revel, I do not know any of those who are expected.

The only music I have is my own, _forbye_ a comic song or two, gasped
and death-rattled out by poor old Sir Adam Fergusson, whom I met
seventeen years ago at Walter Scott's house, and who is still tottering
on, with inexhaustible spirits, but a body that seems quite threadbare,
tattered, and ready to fall in pieces with long and hard use.

I do not read to the party collectively, but occasionally to Emily de
Viry alone, who has asked me once or twice to read her favorite poems of
hers, of Wordsworth's, Tennyson's, and Milnes's....

I act in Glasgow on Monday, to-morrow week. On Sunday I shall be in
Edinburgh, and shall go and see Cecilia and Mr. Combe. I am sorry you
didn't see Mrs. Mitchell, for, though forty years old, she might be
fallen in love with any day for her good looks only. She is my notion of
what Mary Stuart must have looked like, but she is a marvellous wise and
discreet body--mentally and morally, I should think, very unlike the
bonnie Queen of Scots.

Did I tell you that one place where we dined was Cowdenknowes? and I
felt like singing "The Bonnie Broom" all the time, which would have been
an awful accompaniment to the gastronomic enjoyments of the "liveliness
of the county." Good-bye, my dear.

Ever yours,
FANNY.

GLASGOW, Wednesday, September 15th.

I do not know what my friend's religiou