A MEMOIR. 41 



Peter was the chief favorite, emerged from the water. 

 Peter picked up his faithful follower, and after petting 

 him, threw him back over the ditch, telling him at the 

 same time to " clear away home." When the youths re- 

 turned at midnight over the same route they were sur- 

 prised to see the " Bothy " cat waiting for them by the 

 ditch, and supposed he had remained there when he was 

 thrown back, but to their surprise they learned from their 

 fellow apprentices that the cat had returned to the 

 Bothy, dried himself over a furnace, and then gone back 

 and patiently waited for the return of his master. No 

 wonder half a century later when a grandchild sug- 

 gested that cats were ungrateful and had poor memo- 

 ries, that he should have said : " The poor Beastie! How 

 can you say that ? Look at old Tom, how he jumps up 

 on my shoulder and sits there while I go half over the 

 place. Isn't that love and memory ?" 



He was naturally very fond of company; but his life 

 was such a busy one as to leave him but little time to 

 mingle much in society, yet at social gatherings he was 

 always an interesting and humorous talker, and a good 

 .story teller. He had a faculty, too, that few suspected, 

 in being a splendid mimic. 



Love for his Adopted Land. 



He always retained a tender feeling for the land of 

 his birth, of which another of her worthy sons, Mr. 

 fames Hope Park* has sung : 



There is a land I dearly love, 

 The land of song and fame 

 Where roses blow, and daisies grow, 

 My ain loved hame, 



But we would be recreant to his memory, did we fail 

 to record the almost passionate love Peter Henderson 

 felt for America and American institutions. No " native 

 here and to the manner born " was prouder of his citi- 



♦ Mr. Park, formerly of Brooklyn, New York, but now of Canonbie, Scotland, was for 

 .over thirty years, perhaps of all men, Mr. Henderson's most intimate and cherished 

 friend. 



