122 THE JOURNEYMAN. 



proposed building, was their barrack. They hung mats 

 across the open end, through which the wind blew cold 

 at night, awakening them sometimes by dashing the 

 rain in their faces. Their fare was improved by a supply 

 of excellent milk, and the innkeeper made a point of in- 

 viting them to dine with him on Sunday. ' He was a 

 loquacious little man, full of himself, and desirous of 

 being reckoned a wit/ but without capacity to play the 

 part. Miller, less talkative than his fellow-workmen, 

 was supposed by mine host to be available as a butt, 

 and was made the object of sundry small witticisms. 

 He took this in good part for a while, but one day 

 he retorted upon his entertainer and reduced him to 

 silence. The consequence was that he was excluded 

 from the invitation next Sunday, and left to regale him- 

 self on oatmeal and milk in the solitude of the barrack. 

 He took his revenge in a way gratifying at once to his 

 pride and his kindliness. One of the favoured workmen 

 had bargained with the innkeeper to give the latter a 

 hammer and trowel, but, after receiving the money for 

 the articles, had played him false. ' I was informed of 

 the circumstance/ says Miller to Baird, when on the 

 eve of setting out for the low country ; and taking my 

 hammer and trowel from my bundle, I presented them 

 to the innkeeper's wife ; alleging, when she urged me 

 to set a price on them, that they were a very inadequate 

 return for her husband's kindness to me during the two 

 first weeks of our acquaintance/ It was a mode of re- 

 venge to which neither Uncle James nor Uncle Sandy 

 could have taken exception. 



Before quitting the Gairloch scene we may take this 

 final picture of one of its landscapes : ' There is a steep 

 high hill rather more than a mile from the manse of 

 Gairloch, to the summit of which I frequently extended 



