Classic Shin, on whose heath-clad banks and flowing waters the great and good fly fishers roam, who never saw "Kelt of Baggit" there—the haunt of monarchs of the sea, and shepherd swains that watch His flocks, and feed His Dams—the theme of poetess, and the learned. O, "Ephemera," how beautifully written is that "Book of the Salmon;" how exquisitely delineated that "Ova;" how admirably that "golden fish," which bounds up falls and cataracts in that purling "meandering" stream; how charming to gaze upon that lovely "Goddess of the Brooks"—the famed Ondine—how rightly represented. Oh! excellent "Ephemera"—my good and constant friend—the "great and good Will Blacker's" tears (I blush) descend like rain through these sky lights, and damp the very sheets my palsied pen doth blot. Alas! well-a-day-that noble salmon fishing—what sport! These lean and bellows'd sides are winded—this flattened chest, once full, now dented—these calves, once plump, now thin and gone—these shins, once clad, are now protruding. The "puss" more chronic heaves, yes, I still can fish! These cheeks, how pale (their bones "can't grind"), once rosy, the pride of more than "Reva's" lovely blooming rose, my blessed bosom friend, my wife, whose lamp is trimmed. O, "Ephemera!" friend, when shall we meet, with rod in hand, on pure and crystal Shin?—

I cannot add a fly to the list for the Shin in the "Book of the Salmon," by "Ephemera," except that I submit to the notice of the great salmon fishers of Shin those model flies in my list for trial, which, no doubt, will kill. I never fished the Shin, although I have been twice near it. Mr. Young, of Invershin, the renter of the river, will show gentlemen angling there every possible facility, civility, and politeness. The "Queen's Gap," in the cruives, is lifted on sabbath days.