376 DICK'S COMPANIONS. CHAP. xxii. 



him some prime whisky. " No " said he in reply, " but 

 I thank you all the same. Spirits never enter this 

 house, save when I cannot help it." His brother-in- 

 law then offered to send him some money. " God 

 grant you more sense!" was his reply. "I want no 

 sovereigns. It is of no use sending anything down 

 here. Nothing is wanted. Delicacies would only 

 injure health. Nothing like hard fare in going through 

 the world. My old woman neither smokes, snuffs, nor 

 drinks. She is just as tough as a rigwoodie, and can 

 almost do without sleep. I must not pamper myself. 

 ' Hardy ' is the word with working people. Pampering 

 does no good, but much evil. No, no ! no pampering." 



We have said that Dick was a solitary man. He 

 delighted in the companionship of books, and enjoyed 

 with them the solitude of his own thoughts. He never 

 married. He had no family enjoyments, nor family 

 cares. His only inmate was his Highland housekeeper, 

 with whom he could have little mental communion. 

 His only companion was his sister, though she was far 

 away. With her he corresponded regularly to the close 

 of his life. He told her his joys and sorrows, his dis- 

 coveries among the rocks, his finding of ferns at Dunnet 

 Head and among the Eeay hills, and all the little 

 events of his daily life. 



Here, for instance, is a little bit of one of his letters 

 to her, written on the 26th December 1863 : 



" As the weather wore a fair face, I got up and away 

 off to a spot, nearly five miles off, to gather ferns ! 

 What ? Ferns at the end of December ? Yes, ferns. I 



