g daisy and the fresh grass should
mark his resting place.

'Alloway's kirk haunted wall' is preserved with such faithful care, that
this year it looks very much the same as it did when Burns knew it. As a
ruin, apart from the interest with which the poet has invested it, it
possesses nothing to attract attention. Two end walls, which once
supported a gable roof, and two low side walls, all without ornament of
any kind--without gothic tracing or oriel wonders--without even
graceful ivy flung over its ruggedness--are all that remain of Alloway,
if we except the old bell, which yet hangs in the little belfry; a sign
board below insulting visitors by requesting them not to throw stones at
it!

The little churchyard of Alloway continues to be a burial place; but the
gravestones seem, in many instances, sadly inconsistent with the
poetical associations of the place. As at Dumfries, the business
occupations of the deceased are mentioned; and we find here the family
tombs of 'Robert Anderson, molecatcher,' of 'James Wallace, blacksmith,'
and the like. David Watt Miller, who was buried here in 1823, was the
last person baptized in the old Alloway kirk--his tombstone recording
the fact. Near the entrance to the graveyard, and opposite the new
gothic edifice which has taken the place of the old kirk, is the slab to
the poet's father and sister, thus inscribed:

'Sacred to the memory of WILLIAM BURNS, farmer
in Lochie, who died February 13, 1784, in
the 63d year of his age.

Also of ISABELLA, relict of JOHN BELL; his
youngest daughter, born at Mount Oliphant,
June 27, 1771; died December 4, 1858, much
respected and esteemed by a wide circle of
friends, to whom she endeared herself by her
life of piety, her mild urbanity of manner, and
her devotion to the memory of BURNS.'

The reader is aware that Alloway's kirk, the Burns monument, the cottage
where the poet was born, the elaborate temple, erected to his memory,
and Tam O'Shanter's brig, are all within a few rods of each other, at
about two miles' distance from Ayr. The view of the temple, kirk, and
'brig,' from the opposite side of the stream, is worthy of Arcadia. The
temple is familiar from engravings; but the bridge, with its graceful
arch, draped by low-hanging ivy, is far more beautiful. Yet this
exquisite scene is identified with one of Burns's coarsest efforts--one
which, with all its vividness and humor, cannot be read aloud in