e Doon, the stream
of which he has sung so sweetly, within sight of the cot where he was
born, the beautiful monument erected by his countrymen, and more than
all, beside "Alloway's witch-haunted wall!" One would think old Albyn
would rise up at the call, and that from the wild hunters of the
northern hills to the shepherds of the Cheviots, half her honest
yeomanry would be there, to render gratitude to the memory of the sweet
bard who was one of them, and who gave their wants and their woes such
eloquent utterance.

For months before had the proposition been made to hold a meeting on the
Doon, similar to the Shakspeare Festival on the Avon, and the 10th of
July was first appointed for the day, but owing to the necessity of
further time for preparation, it was postponed until the 6th of August.
The Earl of Eglintoun was chosen Chairman, and Professor Wilson
Vice-Chairman; in addition to this, all the most eminent British authors
were invited to attend. A pavilion, capable of containing two thousand
persons, had been erected near the monument, in a large field, which was
thrown open to the public. Other preparations were made and the meeting
was expected to be of the most interesting character.

When we arose it was raining, and I feared that the weather might dampen
somewhat the pleasures of the day, as it had done to the celebrated
tournament at Eglintoun Castle. We reached the station in time for the
first train, and sped in the face of the wind over the plains of
Ayrshire, which, under such a gloomy sky, looked most desolate. We ran
some distance along the coast, having a view of the Hills of Arran, and
reached Ayr about nine o'clock. We came first to the New Bridge, which
had a triumphal arch in the middle, and the lines, from the "Twa Brigs
of Ayr:"

"Will your poor narrow foot-path of a street,
Where twa wheel-barrows tremble when they meet,
Your ruin'd, formless bulk o' stane and lime,
Compare wi' bonnie brigs o' modern time?"

While on the arch of the 'old brig' was the reply:

"I'll be a brig when ye're a shapeless stane."

As we advanced into the town, the decorations became more frequent. The
streets were crowded with people carrying banners and wreaths, many of
the houses were adorned with green boughs and the vessels in the harbor
hung out all their flags. We saw the Wallace Tower, a high Gothic
building, having in front a statue of Wallace leaning on his sword, by
Thom, a native