200 A HUNDKED YEAKS 



into butter in tlie churn ! That night they had to pass 

 in the open; in fact, they had to sit up all night with 

 the cows, but they were determined to have their revenge. 

 Peeping into the bothy about four in the morning, when 

 they felt sure the minister would be sound asleep, they 

 noticed that he had hung up his red wig, which, accord- 

 ing to the fashion of the times, was large with longish 

 curls, on a peg in the wall just above the receptacle 

 containing the week's cream. So they got a long stick 

 and managed to dislodge the wig from its peg and to 

 drop it into the cream. In the morning the wig could 

 not be found, and the girls suggested it must have been 

 carried off by the fairies, as they were always particularly 

 troublesome about that shieling. But at last the wig 

 was discovered, and the upshot was that the minister 

 never bothered them at the shieling any more. 



I am now going to describe three funerals which took 

 place about a hundred years ago. The first two were 

 conducted in the old, old way, and the wrong way — 

 namely, with whisky flowing like water. The third 

 funeral was without whisky, and was, I think, a pattern 

 funeral, taking into consideration the long distance to 

 the place of interment, and the fact that no wheels could 

 be used for want of roads. 



A laird of Dundonnell (which is the southern portion 

 of the parish of Loch Broom) died in Edinburgh, and 

 his remains were brought by sea to Inverness, and from 

 there on wheels as far as Garve, where the road ended. 

 At that spot it was met one evening by the whole of the 

 adult male population of the Dundonnell estate. They 



