A SPRING WEEK IN THE WEST HIGHLANDS. 363 



point, he in his turn volunteered to treat us with u The 

 Braes of Balquhidder." And really it was worth a trifle, 

 for he managed what I had supposed an impossibility 

 viz., to deprive the beautiful air and words of every vestige 

 of harmony. But his grand recipe for drawing the purse- 

 strings is practised -upon his female visitors, and consists in 

 enumerating the moneyed dames who were dying to share 

 his eight feet by six cabin, but they " never gaed near his 

 heart," placing his hand most pathetically on the spot 

 where that organ should have been ! This stale trick, I 

 am credibly informed, has maintained in full radiance his 

 salamander of a nose for the last thirty years. 



Like many anticipated pleasures, the unknown half of 

 our day's journey did not come up to expectation. The 

 rugged grandeur at the lower end of the glen soon blended 

 into low hills and copses ; but the drive along Loch Fine 

 is certainly very beautiful. We slept at Inverary, and 

 next day, after admiring the waterfall in Glenara, and 

 walking up all the steep braes for the sake of the views, 

 arrived at Dalmally. 



Having despatched a messenger to the Black Mount to 

 ascertain whether the sea-eagle had built in any of the 

 forest lochs, we stepped out as far as the little rustic bridge 

 to enjoy the soft pure air. A well-known twitter greeted 

 us, and there was the first swallow darting under the old 

 arch of the primitive bridge, his steel-blue back glancing in 

 the setting sun. " Two of them," shouted my eldest 

 urchin, who, for great diligence in Greek and Latin, had 

 been allowed to accompany us, u they do make a summer." 



