'THE SCOTCH MAIL' 93 



uttered in the shrill nasal twang of a Lowland newsboy, 

 brings you straight up on your seat, and you are 

 broad awake to find yourself at Perth. Hastily you 

 get over a doubtful toilet, and feeling now as fresh as 

 a lark, embark upon the sea of confusion which the 

 great platform presents. Breakfast, rapid and hearty, 

 refreshes you, and as you superintend the change of 

 your baggage into another train for you are bound 

 still farther north you have time to cast greetings to 

 many an old friend, a bow or a smile to some fair 

 ladies, and an oath or a caress to a brace of handsome 

 setters who, coupled together and panting with excite- 

 ment, have run between your legs and nearly upset 

 you. 



This is a shorter though slower run, and you feel 

 yourself growing nearer and nearer to the magnet that 

 is drawing you northward. Leisurely you mark the 

 bloom on the heather, the emerald of the moss on 

 the walls, the bright brown colour of the river, and the 

 rings of the trout where he rises in the still, deep pool ; 

 and as a greyhen sails out of the scrub and into a 

 pine wood, you reflect with satisfaction on your 

 new Purdeys, with the ejectors, and on the ' first-rate 

 consignment ' of Schultze powder with which your 

 cartridges are loaded. 



But here you are arrived ! The sunshines brightly, 



