herself up with the demure look of one scandalised with unwonted revelry. "And now, sirs, what can I do for ye? There's no a bed in the house up but my ain; and tho' I wad gie ye 't, I couldna promise ye peace to lie in 't, for the fiddles 'll be scraiching, and the folk skirling, and the reels daddin, till far i' the night; and the smell o' the punch 'll be just poison to the gentleman frae England. Ye'll no be that ill for supper, for I've a curn mutton pies by ordinar', that I seasoned mysel, and there's a creel fu' o' trout walloping down bye at the burn that wad pleasure a Provost. Come slipping ben to my ain wee room, and ye's get a' the comfort I can gie ye, afore the folks' supper comes on;-and for beds-I'll send the lass to the Minister's, and get ye gude quarters for a word."

"I know the Clergyman," said G, seeing me hesitate. "His sons and I were at school together, and my first sunshiny holidays were spent among the hills we traversed to-day. I should like to see the Manse once more, and a welcome will not be wanting, unless Mr. Maxwell should be strangely altered."

"He is altered, honest man!" said the landlady, heeding only my comrade's last words—“grief's a great alterer! o' auld folk specially! and its fifty year come Monday, since the minister was placed in the parish, and thirty come the time, since he married me and puir John Cairns docely and Christian-like, in that very spence whar thae daft deevils are makin a mock o' mar

riage atween twa auld randy ne'erdoweels!

dinn now, and what's the use o' reflections? your ways, gentlemen, to your supper."

But its

Come

It was with reluctance that I postponed, even to so important an affair-to a hungry prospect-hunter-the gratification of my curiosity. But reconciled to the landlady's fiat by the trout and mutton-pies, and the comfort and cleanliness which reigned in her sanctum sanctorum, G and I did ample justice to the savory repast, and its crowning tumbler, whose whiskey even I, a novice, could discern to be mountain-born, and guiltless of the Exchequer.

"I see ye're nae great hand at the whiskey, sir!" said the hostess, in answer to an equivocal shake of the head with which an Englishman generally salutes the indigenous flavour of genuine peat-reek; "but tak my word for't, ae devil dings out anither, and if ye're to be dancin and daffin yonder, and the room reeking o' punch like a killigie, ye'll kenn a' the less for being a thought primed yersel; and ye'll dance a' the better for 't, Ise warrant,"-turning with a smile to G"a spur in the head's warth twa in the heel!"

So saying, the good lady, desirous to profit in her domestic affairs, by the interval between the claims of her very opposite customers, snatched up the candle, and marshalled us to the scene of a festivity, to which, at the distance of a mile at least, our ears might have proved sufficient guides.

The hoarse squeak of the wary and muggy fiddlers was now well nigh drowned by the far more efficient "lilt" of some stentorian voices, on whose organs the "barley bree” had produced an exactly opposite effect; and the figure of one round rosy shepherd, who, with bonnet "ajee" and picturesquely disposed plaid, sung, danced, and snapped his fingers, surrounded by a ring of admiring rivals, would have been worthy the pencil of a Teniers or a Wilkie. *

His partner in the reel was no less a personage than the blushing bride a weather-beaten crone of some sixty winters bronzing; and as, exhilarated by the unwonted stimulant of applause, she strove to keep pace with the agile movements and giddy whirlings of her vis á vis, peals of unbridled laughter shook the quiet hostelry to its very base.

The bridegroom again, an old Chelsea pensioner, whose once steady, soldier-like frame retained some shadow of military bearing, spite of the joint inroads of palsy and potations, was doing his best to keep his equilibrium, as like "Panting Time," he toiled after the winged heels of a mountain fairy of sixteen, whose shy but earnest gaze at the strangers, and bounding rapidity of motion, reminded me at once of the roe on her native hills.

* An admirable print from the Scotch Penny Wedding of Wilkie, is now on the eve of publication.

Moved by compassion for this ill-matched couple, and well aware of the popular course on such occasions, G dashed at once into the old man's place in the dance, and began threading its mazes with the blushing, but evidently flattered damsel, making me a sign to follow his example; a hint which neither my proficiency in the national dance, nor the charms of the bride, were sufficient to warrant my taking. I slid down unobserved beside some of the few elders present, whose shrewd remarks, and good-natured participations in the "daffin" of the youngsters, were not the least pleasing part of the motley scene. I had never before seen a body of Lowland peasantry collected in holiday attire, and certainly their general good looks, neat shoes and stockings, and above all, the prevalence of decidedly dark hair and complexion (among the men especially), gave the lie to many a Southern quip, at the expense of the bare-footed daughters and carroty-headed sons of Scotia.

The dance by this time-thanks to the punch, which had been freely circulating-was getting, as Burns says, "fast and furious." Gleams of broad national humour flashed through the habitual gravity of the demurest blue-bonneted peasant of the group; and for awhile there was abundance to excite both the Scottish feelings and constitutional gaiety of the young painter, and the natural curiosity of an English stranger. But giddy at length with the endless reels, deafened with

the mirthful accompanying shrieks, half stifled with heat, and the fumes of the national beverage, we both felt it high time to breathe a purer air; and were in the act of quietly withdrawing (after laying on the pewter plate appropriated for the offering, our mite towards the hopeful infant menage), when we ran against our hostess, arriving for the special purpose-a very unwonted one in her vocation-of turning us out of doors.

"I was just coming, sirs, to gie ye a bit word o' counsel. I'm sure ye 'll no tak it ill at my hand; but its time the like o' you were flitting, for the maut 's gettin abune the meal yonder, and they tine respect whiles, and it's no wise like to be late in a minister's house, on Saturday night at e'en. Mr. G kens that!"

"No, indeed—you're quite right," answered the painter, "and indeed we were going away fully satisfied, when we met you."-" Aweel, gang your ways like gude gentlemen, and I'll gie yon daft chiels their supper, and hae them a'out of my house by the clap o' eleven. There sall naebody say they saw a Sabbath morning within 't, tho' I wadna wonder if some o' the ill doers were aff to the hill or some gait out o' hearin, to make a night o't. Ther's some folk canna hae their sairing either o' daffin or drink, the mair 's the pity!— Hech! but ye'll be weel aff that's quiet down by!"

"I'll call and settle the reckoning another time, Mrs. Cairns," said my friend.