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my curiosity overcoming my habitual taciturnity.

"Lochandhu!" exclaimed the pedlar, "an' did ye never hear o' Lochandhu ? my troth, he made some steer in his time in thay pairts. Lochandhu was But I hae gotten a deal about him in an auld warld history in my pack, though its no just a' about him neither, for there's a hantel else about ither fouk, that I ken naething o'. But I'll let ye see't gin ye like," continued he, unstrapping and unlocking his box, and drawing forth a large bundle of papers. "It was a' written by a gude honest man o' a minister in this countrya great scholar, they tell me. When the worthy auld man died, his hellicate, ne'erdo-weel, havrel, o' a haflins son, couped it wi' me for a new snuff-mull,-ane o' yere horn mulls, wi' a wee bit silver, and a Scots peeble on the tap o't. Troth I

thought I had a gude bargain o't; and gif it had been in prent, I might may be hae sauld it again for a profit. But naebody can be fashed wi' vrite, ye ken; and sae I hae carried a' this weight for naething, ever sinsyne. I wuss I ware weel quite o't."

Without a word, I opened my purse, and laying a couple of sovereigns on the palm of my hand, I nodded significantly at the MS., and then looked in Johnny Fimister's face. There I read surprise and joy.

"Troth ye's hae it wi' a' my heart, Sir," quoth Johnny; " my back 'll be glad to be free o't, an' I'll walk a' the lighter wi' thae yellow boys i' my pouch. Mony thanks t'ye, Sir-mony thanks; I wuss ye muckle gude o't."

With all the eagerness of a book collector who has had the good fortune to pop upon some rare volume at a book-stall, I

pounced upon my precious purchase, packed it up with attention, and sent it off next morning for Edinburgh by the Highland coach, addressed for myself, at Mrs Gladstanes', with a large Care, and to be kept dry," on the back.

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On my arrival in town the other day, I was pleased to find that my worthy landlady had taken particular care of it, and as I was employed in opening the parcel, the good woman remained in the room to tell me she had done so. The strings took some time to undo, and her curiosity made her loiter about the apartment, under pretence of dusting the chairs and tables with her apron, but always keeping her eyes thrown over her shoulder, as if eagerly watching for a sight of the contents. I was rejoiced to find all right. But mine hostess, on seeing nothing but a number of quires of dirty, closewritten, coarse sheets of foolscap, much

browned, and highly perfumed with peatreek, left the room in evident chagrin, with a half audible" hoof! is that a'? naething but a parcel o' auld paper to sing fowls wi'!"

I had no sooner dined than I sat down with a bottle of prime fifteen, a box of segars, and the MS. before me; and lighting a weed, I read straight on, sipping and puffing alternately, until I had gone completely through it. I leave you, courteous reader, to whom I now resign it, to judge whether my night was well or ill employed.

CHARLES MONTAGUE MONTGOMERY.

Gladstanes' Lodgings, James' Court,

10th November 1824.

"LOCH-AN-EILAN. THIS lake is much embellished by an

ancient castle standing on an island within it, and even yet entire, though roofless. As a Highland castle, it is of considerable di mensions, and the island being scarcely larger than its founda. tions, it appears to rise immediately out of the water.It would not be easy to imagine a wilder position than this, for a den of thieves and robbers, nor one more thoroughly romantic. It is more like the things of which we read in the novels of the Otran

to School, than a scene of real life. If ever you should propose to rival the Author of Waverley in that line of art, I recommend you to choose part of your scene here. As I lay on its topmost tower, amid the universal silence, while the bright sun exalted the perfume from the woods around, and all the old world visions and romances seemed to flit about its grey and solitary ruins, I, too, felt as if I would have written a chapter that might hereafter be worthy the protection of Minerva-the Minerva of Leadenhall Street."

MACCULLOCH's Letters on the Highlands of Scotland.

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