136 MEMOIR OF GEORGE WILSON. CHAP. III. 



cerning littleness of letter, and so I thought old John 1 and his 

 concerns worthy of a long sheet. I do also think certain 

 youngsters, who have lately sojourned with us, equally worthy 

 of what is so justly, as I feel it, called Foolscap. This is, I 

 believe, positively the last long sheet you will get for some 

 time, as I have put on my wisdom -cap and taken to osteology 

 and its delights again. I shall send you a parcel soon, and 

 perhaps a few lines, but Mary must be your correspondent till 

 my examinations are over. You will remember my delightful 

 leisure when preparing for Surgeons' Hall, and excuse silence. 

 Well ; away ye bones ! Have you seen any strangers floating 

 in your tea ? yes or no ? Well, whether or no, here they have 

 come the two daughters of an excellent old gentleman you 

 have heard me speak of, one Hugh Mackay of Glasgow. They 

 have spent a whole week with us, and now, after slowly becom- 

 ing reconciled to the dulness which has succeeded the pleasur- 

 able feelings their presence awakened, I sit down (or being 

 already seated, remain sitting) in some degree to call back the 

 pleasure by recounting it to one who will believe all said, and 

 think it too little. ... I get on hazily with this letter ; but 

 now that I have got clear of what does not belong to myself, 

 111 perhaps amend. I suppose, like me, you find any little 

 incident regarding folks or things you know about, amusing and 

 pleasant, as disturbing the monotony of your thoughts. When 

 I can get speculating on chemistry, I don't care for these things ; 

 but now when I dare not speculate, as I would soon leave my 

 studies to chase atoms and the like, I am very glad of any foolery 

 to amuse me. Well, here follow a few of the last incidents for 

 your benefit : One night, at my only visiting place, it chanced 

 that I asked the young ladies to sing ' The last links are 

 broken.' They sang it, but declared that, although wearied of 

 the words, they loved the tune, and would sing it to new words 

 if I would write them. Accordingly they sent me the original 

 words, and I fell to, setting James at the same time to the task. 

 We both wrote a couple of verses. James took, as I suggested, 

 autumn, and wrote very quickly two verses ; the first halted, 

 the second was very good, and, failing in the autumnal lines, I 



1 John M'Lure, of whom more again. 



