Imágenes de páginas
PDF
EPUB

47

A RAINY DAY AT ABERFOYLE.

BEING possessed in my youthful days with a great desire to rise in the world, I was an enthusiastic climber of high mountains. But having now attained to more mature years, I have got over all that, for I have learned long since that happiness does not dwell altogether on the tops of hills, but may more frequently be found at our feet, scattered in profusion over the plains and valleys--a reflection quite as appropriate, I apprehend, to the varied scenery of our social life as to the physical aspects of nature. This aimless mountain-climbing, indeed, I hold to be very much a bit of foolish emulation, involving a waste of breath and danger to your bones which cannot lead to any good; and you won't be one whit bigger a man even although you should stand upon the summit of Ben Nevis. And so of those ambitious people-whose name is legion-who would fain ascend to social altitudes for which nature never

[ocr errors]

meant them, having neither the amount of wind nor the strength of muscle requisite for the achievement. Envious and emulous of their more exalted fellows, they expend themselves in laborious attempts to attain the like position, and not unfrequently miss their footing and tumble headlong to the bottom, bruised and wrecked beyond redemption -a catastrophe that might have been avoided had they abode in their native plains and valleys, and there gathered, in quiet and contented modesty, the flowers and fruits of humbler but surer pleasures lying in their path. But the fable of the frog and the ox was true in men's experience long before the time of Æsop, and will likely continue to be SO as long as time its term extends," whatever moral homilies either I or any other great philosophers may indulge in touching the foolishness of such perilous performances.

66

Penetrated (as the French say) by these and similar sensible thoughts and convictions, and determined to eschew all toilsome hill ascents, I and two valued friends set out the other day to explore the strath of Aberfoyle, and bring ourselves into better acquaintanceship with this part of the famous country of Rob Roy. One of the two-the most unassuming and loveable man I know-had indeed his own private reasons, apart from health and curiosity, for wishing to retire to

the country for a brief space. He had just commenced the cultivation of a moustache, which was in the first incipient stages of its progress, and he resolved to see what fresh air and rural cream could do for it. The result was equally marvellous and gratifying, and ought to infuse hope and courage into the soul of every young man who is cultivating this manly appendage under difficulties, and wondering why it won't come. At first my friend's moustache was hardly visible to the naked eye, but after the lapse of two days it could be distinctly perceived without the aid of a glass. But this is en parenthèse, and I only mention the circumstance for the encouragement of any youth who is beginning to despair of achieving the "fierce dignity" of a moustache, that he may "go and do likewise."

Well, going by the Forth and Clyde Railway, we arrived at Bucklyvie, a most hungry and forlorn-looking place, distant about seven miles from Aberfoyle Inn, which was our goal. As there was only one mode of conveyance to be found at the locality, we adopted it, and accordingly trudged away on our legs in the direction of the famous clachan. The country all round, for a long way, is bleak enough in all conscience; but were the heather cleared away, and the moss drained, and tickled into anything like a genial mood by the application of lime and manure, I don't doubt it might bear

D

first-rate crops. The road, however is excellent, and nowhere have I seen the milestones-such interesting objects in the landscape to the weary traveller-in such perfect and creditable condition, for which I moved a vote of thanks to the Road Trustees on the spot, which was carried nem. con.; for whosoever has travelled much on foot, must have often been disgusted and provoked in coming up to a thing on the roadside, which should have been a milestone, but which, in respect of its obliterations, defacements, and disfigurements, might as readily be proved to be the remains of an ancient monument to one of the Pictish Kings. Having counted off three of these respectable landmarks in our journey, we begin to bear down upon the more fertile districts in which the "winding Forth" lies coiled like an immense serpent glittering in the autumn sun, folding yellow corn and green clover fields in its convolutions -now disappearing in the bosky umbrage of some wood-now flashing out amid the

Calm and still light on yon great plain,
That sweeps, with all its autumn bowers,
And crowded farms, and lessening towers,
To mingle with the bounding main.

Backed by the not very high and mostly well-clothed hills in the direction of Loch Katrine and Lochlomond, the scene is very beautiful, and, to a painter with an

But save us from

eye and a soul behind it, offers many pictures well worthy of being transferred to canvas. photographic landscapes, into which the breath of life cannot be breathed, and which are destitute of the living soul. The atmosphere in which all natural objects float, so to speak, cannot be given by any mechanical process, however ingenious and accurate, but must pass through the mind of the artist to his brush; and it will be reproduced with truthfulness just in proportion to his genius. But this by the way. A sudden turn of the road where it branches off to the Lake of Menteith brought the Forth to our feet, and it thenceforth bore us company (though running away from us) all the way to Aberfoyle, where the road is all that comes between it and the hotel. At the bend aforesaid, a family of gipsies are encamped on a green and velvety nook under overarching trees, while the Forth is singing lullaby to the plentiful crop of squalling brats wherewith such establishments are invariably endowed. Very pastoral and picturesque-looking, no doubt, is this moveable place of abode, surrounded by such adjuncts, and under a fair sky and a smiling sun, but it has just too much ventilation for me. Moreover, when the rains beat, and the cold winds blow fierce and loud, it must be anything but comfortable to lie cowering and shivering over a few blackened sticks in the

« AnteriorContinuar »