(_An otter was run down and killed by three lads belonging to Wanlockhead and Leadhills in the head of Pedan in the month of August, 1915. Some people say I have made a mountain out of a molehill in the following piece. I advise such to keep clear of the jaws of an otter if ever they run up against one._) Tae the hunt! Tae the hunt! Come haste ye away! An otter's been seen on the Lowthers this day, An' brave lads are wanted the beast tae destroy, So it's Donal an' Archie an' Jock for the ploy. They breisted the Lowthers like houn's frae the leash, In their herts an' their minds there were nae thochts o' peace; It was war, an' they cunnin'ly followed the trail That led them away for the hichts o' Powtrail. "Tally Ho! Tally Ho!" was the hunters' wild cry, And speedily after the otter they hie; Thro' heather an' breckins, thro' threshes an' bent Regairdless o' danger oor brave trio went. The chase it was stern and the chase it was lang Wi' the race tae the swift and the fecht tae the strang; They pressed him sae hard an' sae swiftly they ran He was forced for tae hole in the heid o' Pedan. He holed in the broo o' a pool in the burn, Where water frae forking comes doon wi' a run: They had run him to earth, o' that they'd nae doot, The puzzle was noo hoo tae get the bruit oot. Syne yin o' them stood at the heid o' the pool, Anither yin takin' his stance at the fit, While the third tried his best tae breck the broo doon, Makin' use o' the tae an' the heel o' his buit. At last he cam' oot, makin' fast up a drain (For conveying the little springs intae the main), But Archie was ready, an' took a sure aim, An' knocked him doon deid wi' a big cobble stane. Then here's tae the lads wha then did display Sic courage an' speed at the huntin' that day; An' lang may the tale roon the fireside be tauld Hoo the otter was killed by oor three hunters bauld. THE BEARERS. To the mournful sound of the curfew's note, On to the churchyard they go; Bearing the form of a dear lost friend "With measured step and slow." A moment they pause the cords to adjust, Then lower him into the ground, While paying their last respects to the dead The mourners stand around. Reverently they cover him up (Of mortal this is the end); Then sadly leave him in the dust "Where the tall trees sway and bend." In the winds that weep o'er the lowly graves Where the ashes of forebears lie, And the requiem sounds from the crystal stream That is swiftly flowing by. MENNOCK BURN. When mist nae langer hides the brae, An' rain cluds flee afore the sun, Wi' rod in han' I slowly gang Awa' tae fish in Mennock Burn. Dear Mennock Burn! What memories cling Roon ilka bend that's in thy course; For happy 'oors I spent in youth I thank thee for them wert the source.