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But the next morning, when the papers were brought to me, they'd all long interviews wi' me. I learned that I thought America was the grandest country I'd ever seen. One said I was thinking of settling doon here, and not going hame to Scotland at a' any more!
One piped, in feeble tones, 'Oh why left I my hame? which seemed a pertinent question in the circumstances.
At the Bastile I made the acquaintance of the accomplished and elegant author of Guy Livingstone,* to whom I presented a curiously carved thigh-bone of a Union officer, and from whom I received the following beautiful acknowledgment: "Demoiselle: Should I ever win hame to my ain countrie, I make mine avow to enshrine in my reliquaire this elegant bijouterie and offering of La Belle Rebelle.
Minor spies are tracked here and there, as Rob Roy's son, James Mohr Macgregor, Samuel Cameron, and Oliver Macallester. English machinations against the Prince's life and liberty are unveiled. His utter decadence is illustrated, and we leave him weary, dishonoured, and abandoned. 'A sair, sair altered man Prince Charlie cam' hame' to Rome; and the refusal there of even a titular kingship.
Fat wad the neighbors be sayin' if they saw Kirsty Lamont gang to a concert in a rent week fashin' aboot like that!" "But Phem that's my eldest dochter, ye ken she wad ha' me gang alang. She bade me put on my bonnet and my dolman, and said she'd pay for me, so's to leave the siller for the rent. So I said I'd gang, since they were so keen like, and we set oot jist as John came hame for his tea.
Mac- Morlan mysell, he's at hame e'en now; it's hardly a step. 'Do so, my good landlady, and many thanks; and bid my servant step here with my portfolio in the meantime. In a minute or two Colonel Mannering was quietly seated with his writing materials before him. We have the privilege of looking over his shoulder as he writes, and we willingly communicate its substance to our readers.
There were men I knew in Hamilton who'd have found themselves richt at hame among the agitators in Butte. I'm minded to be tellin' ye a tale of one such lad. The lad I've in mind I'll call Andy McTavish, which'll no be his richt name, ye'll ken. He could ha' been the best miner in the pit. He could ha' been the best liked lad in a' those parts. But he was not.
After walking a couple of miles into the open country, they retraced their footsteps. As they approached the college, Mr Cupples said: "Noo, Alec, ye maun gang hame to yer denner. I'll be hame afore nicht. And gin ye like, ye can come wi' me to the library the morn, and I'll gie ye something to do."
Gang yer wa's hame, an' come back straucht frae yer prayers the morn's mornin'. By that time she'll be quaiet in her coffin, an' I'll be quaiet i' my temper. Syne I'll lat ye see her maybe. I wiss I was weel rid o' the sicht o' her, for I canna bide it. Lord, I canna bide it."
It pleased the old man no little that, in spite of his father's loving greeting, wee Andrew stole away to his side. "You see, Davie," he urged in apology, "he's mair at hame like wi' me." And then he drew the child to him, and let his whole heart go out now, without check or reproach, to "Davie's bairn." "But you have not finished your story, Mr.
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