398 A Walk from 



Scotland to the Northern Sea with this unparalleled 

 and splendid road, constructed at first for a military 

 purpose. I heard a man repeat a couplet, probably of 

 unwritten poetry, in popular vogue among the High- 

 lands, and which has quite an Irish collocation of 

 ideas. It is spoken thus, as far as I can recollect 



Who knew these roads ere they were made 

 Should hless the Lord for General Wade. 



I doubt if there are ten consecutive miles of carriage- 

 road in America that could compare for excellence 

 with that over the desert of Old Ord. I was overtaken 

 by a heavy shower before I had made the trajet, and 

 was glad to reach one of the most comfortable inns of 

 the Highlands, in the beautiful, romantic and pic- 

 turesque glen of Berriedale. Here, nestling between 

 lofty mountain ridges, which warded off the blasting 

 sea- winds sweeping across from Norway, were planta- 

 tions and groves of trees, almost the only ones I saw 

 in the county. Nothing could exceed the hospitality 

 of the family that kept the large, white-faced hotel at 

 the bottom of this pleasant valley ; especially after I 

 incidentally said that I had walked all the way from 

 London to see the country and people. They admitted 

 me into the kitchen and gave me a seat by the great 

 peat fire, where I had a long talk with them, beginning 

 with the mother. Having intimated that I was an 



