56 Mary Somerville. 



heard the word before, but somehow I did not like the 

 look of the curiously-shaped glass things and other 

 apparatus, so when the son put a substance on the 

 table, and took a hammer, his father saying, " Now 

 you will hear a fine report," I ran out of the room, 

 saying, "I don't like reports." Sure enough there was 

 a very loud report, followed by a violent crash, and 

 on going into the room again, we found that the son 

 had been knocked down, the father was trembling 

 from head to foot, and the apparatus had been 

 smashed to pieces. They had had a narrow escape. 

 Miss Boswell led a dull life, often passing the 

 winter with her mother in that solitary place, 

 Balmuto ; and when in Edinburgh, she was much 

 kept down by her father, and associated little with 

 people of her own age and station. The conse- 

 quence was that she eloped with her drawing- 

 master, to the inexpressible rage and mortification 

 of her father, who had all the Scotch pride of family 

 and pure blood. 



This year we remained longer in the country 

 than usual, and I went to spend Christmas with 

 the Oswalds of Dunnikeir. The family consisted 

 of a son, a colonel in the army, and three 

 daughters, the youngest about my age, a bold 

 horsewoman. She had talent, became a good 

 Greek and Latin scholar, and was afterwards 



