On a lost umbrella

PROPPED up beside me as I write is an umbrella or, in that it is large and untidy, a gamp. It is of the promotional kind that is now almost universal, and it advertises a company or a partnership called Sedgwick. What Sedgwick does or where it is to be found, I know not, but I have been advertising its name since Wednesday night.

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Regent Terrrace Gardens

The Herald, Ediorial Notebook, c1993.

TO the east of Princes Street, on the flank of Calton Hill, lie graceful private pleasure gardens laid out by the great William Playfair. They are one of Edinburgh's hidden delights, concealed in the horseshoe formed by Regent, Royal, and Carlton Terraces.

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A fishermen's watering hole in Kelso

KELSO. Two fishermen are having a mournful conversation. ''There's no water,'' says one. I look up from my book, for in the bar where we are all sitting it is impossible not to eavesdrop, and stare out of the window. There, where the Tweed and the Teviot meet, there seems plenty of water to me.

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