98 BOTANICAL LETTERS FKOM ARGYLESHIRE, [ApHl, 



days^ then, like the fiery courser, he is at once ready for the road. 

 Thoughts crowd upon him, his spirits are up, and if a Botanist 

 or Naturalist, or a lover of the country sweets and wilds, the 

 moments will seem too long till he is beyond the walls of the 

 city. Such is his buoyancy, that on reaching his lodgings he 

 waits not to eat, scarcely to turn the key in his trunk. He casts 

 his cloak over his shoulders ; his knapsack strung, and doffing his 

 blue Balmoral or Glengarry, he is off with the train, with nearly 

 the same rhapsodies in his noddle, if not actually repeating tlie 

 words of the lyric bard when he exclaims — 



" Hivrrah, for the highlands, the stern Scottish highlands, 

 The home of the Clansman, the brave and the free !" 



Whether this may be the train of thoughts of all those youths I 

 shall not particularly affirm, neither does it matter; but this, I 

 know, has been the feeling of one at least on similar occasions. 



Many of those youths, as well as others, visit our shores at 

 those seasons of the year; and to those who make the Scottish 

 Land's End their rural retreat during a few winter holidays, I 

 would say, spend an hour, even a solitary hour, if time or wea- 

 ther will not admit of more, at " Machrihanish Bay," a place 

 visited by hundreds during the summer months. I shall not 

 promise you much in an hour ; but this I can assure you of, that 

 you shall enjoy the fresh sea-breeze, and moreover a basketful of 

 eatable dulse. 



This famed bay is distant five miles from Campbelltown, on 

 the west coast of Cantyre. It is of easy access by an excellent 

 road, firm and level as a bowling-green, which passes through a 

 fertile agricultural district, studded with cottages and home- 

 steads. I may further hint, that on reaching Machrihanish 

 Bay, that should the strong sea-air sharpen the botanist's appe- 

 tite, some Highland cheer is obtainable at mine host of the " Salt- 

 pans Inn" in the vicinity. 



Taking for granted that the rambler has made up hi3 mind to 

 visit this locality, leaving Campbelltown by the Southend road, 

 he passes some distilleries and gardens on the left, the Poor- 

 house and its ground, and the lands of Gallowhill on the right, 

 and in a few minutes more he reaches the hamlet of Witch- 

 burn, consisting of a few cottages on either side of the highway, 

 through which a small rill or burn passes, sweeping through a small 



