Midsummer to Michaelmas 
From the village across the river came the sound of a 
fife. I do not know who is the player ; he was evidently 
not very accomplished, a simple, very simple rendering of 
“ Robin Adair,” and a reel or two, seemed all he could do ; 
still it sounded very pretty in the evening stillness. 
July 9. — The Honeysuckle, which hung in such lovely 
masses among the dark Ivy on the walls of our little twelfth- 
century Kirk, is all over now — no more “ Ladies’-fingers ” ; 
but there is a beautiful bush of “ Prince Charlie ” White 
Roses in bloom by an old mossy tombstone, the White Rose 
which used to be so common in Scottish gardens long ago. 
We have a similar bush in the kitchen-garden, but when 
I spoke of it as “ Prince Charlie’s ” Rose to the Gardener, 
he said it had always been called the “ Colonel’s ” Rose, 
because an ancient beau who had lived in past days in 
the old mansion-house loved it for buttonhole bouquets. 
Many are the quaint stories about this old veteran : he had 
an invincible dislike to having a tree cut or bush pruned, 
a state of things which resulted in the “ House in a 
Wood ” or Palace of the Sleeping Beauty, which we found 
on coming to live here. He would go to Auld Reekie or 
London Town with the money he allotted himself for his 
jaunt tied up in an old stocking-foot, and when nothing 
remained but enough for the homeward journey, which 
indeed had been in a separate packet from the beginning, 
he would say it was time to be jogging homeward. He was 
in the habit of wearing a white satin nightcap embroidered 
with pink rosebuds, which indeed survived long after his 
death in some corner aumrie, where was also a Malacca 
cane with carved ivory dog’s head and silver band, with 
which he used to walk in the garden, and which I now 
walk with in all his old haunts. 
July 10. — Rain, no wonder to us after the too gorgeous 
sunset. The Hedgehogs have disappeared, to our grief. 
There is a lovely dark purple Summer Iris out now — Iris 
Xiphoides — and masses of tall pale pink Turncap Lilies. 
My blue Meadow Cranesbill Geranium Pratense , from 
Auvergne, is in lovely bloom, and there is also a beautiful 
205 
