NIMROD'S NORTHERN TOUR. 389 



"The erening shade around is spread. 

 The chilling tempest sweeps the sky :" 



The clionis to which, — 



** Blithe, blithe, and merry are we, 

 Cauld care is far awa ; 

 This is but ane night o* our lives. 

 And wha wad care though it were twa ?" 



o 



is peculiarly heart-stirring and enlivening. To the science of music I 

 am a stranger; hut there certainly is a simplicity and pathetic 

 expression in Scotch airs, that must he highly enchanting to a musical 

 ear. Nor was Willie the only songster on the occasion. Joe Grant 

 gave us " This day a stag must die," in very good style, and all agreed 

 that next to holloaing away a fox over a good country, we had never 

 heard Joe's pipe to so much advantage before. 



As Jupiter himself was obliged to stoop to fate, even the great Captain 

 Barclay cannot oppose its power. All chance of his hunting being at 

 an end, and the snow in some places drifted so high that no carriage could 

 approach Gask, he and myself, the fox-hound bitch, Harriet, and our lug- 

 gage, were all placed in a cart well littered down with straw, and on Satur- 

 day 21st. drawn into the turnpike road, where we got into the Banff coach, 

 and proceeded that evening to Aberdeen, — Lord Kintore also taking his 

 departure on his hack, for Keith-hall. Next day, I dined with Sir 

 Alexander Bannerman, maternal uncle to his lordship, and renowned for 

 his convivial accomplishments, which imply the passing an agreeable 

 evening under his roof. I also underwent a personal examination by an 

 eminent surgeon of this town'^, being by no means satisfied as to the 

 sound state of my ribs, but the only damage they had received was, it 



* Mr. Williams. 



