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Purchase of this book includes free trial access to www.million-books.com where you can read more than a million books for free. This is an OCR edition with typos. Excerpt from book: THE HIGHLAND WIDOW. CHAPTER I. It wound as near as near could be, But what it is she cannot tell; On the other side it seem'd to be, Of the huge broad-breasted old oak-tree. Coleridgz. fES... More

Purchase of this book includes free trial access to www.million-books.com where you can read more than a million books for free. This is an OCR edition with typos. Excerpt from book: THE HIGHLAND WIDOW. CHAPTER I. It wound as near as near could be, But what it is she cannot tell; On the other side it seem'd to be, Of the huge broad-breasted old oak-tree. Coleridgz. fES. BETHUNE BALIOL'S memorandum begins thus:- It is flve-and-thirty, or perhaps nearer forty years ago, since, to relieve the dejection of spirits occasioned by a great family loss sustained two or three months before, I undertook what was called the short Highland tour. This had become in some degree fashionable; but though the military roads were excellent, yet the accommodation was so indifferent that it was reckoned a little adventure to accomplish it. Besides, the Highlands, though now as peaceable as any part of King George's dominions, was a sound which still carried terror, while so many survived who had witnessed the insurrection of 1745; and a vague idea of fear was impressed on many as they looked from the towers of Stirling northward to the huge chain of mountains which rises like a dusky rampart to conceal in its recesses a people, whose dress, manners, and language differed still very much from those of their Lowland countrymen. For my part, I come of a race not greatly subject to apprehensions arising from imagination only. I had some Highland relatives, knew several of their families of distinction; and, though only having the company of my bower-maiden, Mrs. Alice Lambskin, I went on my journey fearless. But then I had a guide and cicerone, almost equal to Greatheart in the Pilgrim's Progress, in no less a person than Donald MacLeiah, p the postilion whom I hired at Stilling, with a pair of able-bodied horses, as steady as Donald himself, to drag my carriage, my duenna, and myself, wheresoever it was my pleasure to go. Donald MacLeish was one o...

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