Among the many happy reminiscences of my sojourn in the north not the least memorable are those connected with the late Colonel Balfour of Balfour and Trenabie, whose acquaintance I made early in my official career, and whose friendship I enjoyed till his death. His beautiful castle on the island of Shapinsay, about five miles from Kirkwall, must have caught the eye of the tourist, and his splendid hospitality is well known to a wide circle of men eminent in literature, law, archæology, and folklore. A man of culture, wide reading, exquisite taste in art and music, a generous landlord, and the very soul of kindliness, he was beloved by his tenantry, and highly respected by all who knew him. During the sixteen years when my duties lay in that disstrict Balfour Castle was my headquarters for a week or two every year, and I was very seldom the only guest. I happened to be there when a party of antiquaries, including Mr Farrer, Dr Joseph Robertson, Dr John Stuart, and the Rev. Dr Joass of Golspie, all well known to scholars and geologists for the width and accuracy of their knowledge, opened up the Maeshowe, the largest of those inscrutable mounds. It consists of a chamber fourteen feet square and twenty high, with a recess in each of three walls. The

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walls are finely built and quite entire, though erected no one knows how long ago. A great many Runic characters were engraven on them, and an excited buzz tingled the ears and quickened the pulses of the whole antiquarian world. The mystery was at length about to be solved. Alas! the Runes when interpreted by experts proved next to nothing. The disappointment was scarcely less than that of the Antiquary on discovering that A.D.L.L. meant nothing more than "Aiken Drum's lang ladle."

The guests on another occasion were the officers of the Channel Fleet on their visit to the north; on another, General Burroughs, who is said to have been the soldier who first entered the Redan in the Crimean war; and almost every year Professor Aytoun on his visit to his sheriffdom of Orkney and Shetland. All such meetings were delightful and exceedingly interesting, and even when (which was seldom) Colonel Balfour and I were left to a tête-à-tête over our evening pipes in the smoking-room, there was no want of conversational topics, such as art, poetry, travel, archæology, and history. The figure which bulks most largely in my recollection of those visits is Professor Aytoun. Those who knew him will readily understand what a charming addition he

made to such a company as I have mentioned, and will remember how, over his evening tumbler and cigar, his features, which in repose were somewhat heavy and almost uninteresting, were lit up by the merry twinkle of his expressive eyes, and with what charm and point he narrated humorous incidents of his personal and professional experience. I remember a most humorous account he gave of his second marriage tour. He was passing through Cologne, which he had previously visited, and required no guide through the cathedral. He wished, moreover, to revel again in its marvellous beauty and have a deliberate walk through it with his young wife, undisturbed by the ever-present officious commissionaires ready to pounce on all tourists. He knew how persistent they were in their offers of guidance, and how difficult to shake off, but he resolved not to be victimised, and he succeeded. "I was walking," he said, "up the aisle when a commissionaire, who thought from my dress that I was an Englishman, came up and offered his services in fairly good English. I put on my most stupid look, and shook my head, as if I didn't understand him. He felt he was on the wrong tack, and thought I might be a Frenchman, and repeated his offer in French.

Of course

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having failed to understand English, I was not going to understand French, and I again stared at him stolidly and again shook my head. Failing a second time, his next attempt was Italian, which I again refused to understand, with if possible a still more unintelligent look. Spanish was now resorted to, with of course the same result. When he got at last to the end of his tether, I turned round and said with the broadest Scotch accent I could command, 'Man, ye bletherin' eediot, I canna mak ayther heid or tail o' a single thing ye've been gabbling aboot.' This settled him, and finding me hopeless he left me to myself."

The Professor had a story of a very taciturn witness from whom an advocate could get only the shortest of answers. Hoping to tap a source of free speech by referring to his native place, he asked where he lived.

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'Sorn," said the witness.

"That is a village in Wigtown, isn't it?" "No."

"It is a very healthy place, I suppose?"

"Yes," said the witness.

"Now, do people often die in Sorn?" "Just aince."

CHAPTER XIV.

SHETLAND-FAIR ISLE-A PURPOSE OF MARRIAGE-FOULA-A RUNNING COMMENTARY ON THE LAST CHAPTER OF ECCLESIASTES.

In the early years of my service there were only three or four schools in Shetland to which an annual visit was due, and there was only one steamer a-week. I had consequently three or four days which I usually employed in visiting other schools, with a view to induce the teachers to become certificated. In 1865 two friends, the Rev. Drs Mitchell of South Leith and Elder Cumming of Glasgow, were making a cruise among the islands on business connected with the Home Mission Scheme of the Church of Scotland, and I was tempted to join them in a visit to Fair Isle, on which I had not yet set foot. It lies about midway between Orkney and Shetland. We set sail in the cutter Nelson on a perfectly beautiful morning. The wind, though fair, was extremely light, so much so that for a time we