that from
the date of the death of MacLean, Captain Burroughs regularly remitted
thirty shillings a month, through the minister of her parish, to
Donald's widowed mother, till the day of her death seven years after.
When an action of this kind became generally known in the regiment, it
caused many to look with kindly feelings on most of the peculiarities of
Burroughs.

The other anecdote goes back to Camp Kamara and the spring of 1856, when
the Highland Brigade were lying there half-way between Balaclava and
Sebastopol. As before noticed, Burroughs was more like a Frenchman than
a Highlander; there were many of his old _Polytechnique_ chums in the
French army in the Crimea, and almost every day he had some visitors
from the French camp, especially after the armistice was proclaimed.

Some time in the spring of 1856 Burroughs had picked up a Tartar pony
and had got a saddle, etc., for it, but he could get no regular groom.
Not being a field-officer he was not entitled to a regulation groom, and
not being well liked, none of his company would volunteer for the
billet, especially as it formed no excuse for getting off other duties.
One of the company had accordingly to be detailed on fatigue duty every
day to groom the captain's pony. On a particular day this duty had
fallen to a young recruit who had lately joined by draft, a man named
Patrick Doolan, a real Paddy of the true Handy Andy type, who had made
his way somehow to Glasgow and had there enlisted into the Ninety-Third.
This day, as usual, Burroughs had visitors from the French camp, and it
was proposed that all should go for a ride, so Patrick Doolan was called
to saddle the captain's pony. Doolan had never saddled a pony in his
life before, and he put the saddle on with the pommel to the tail and
the crupper to the front, and brought the pony thus accoutred to the
captain's hut. Every one commenced to laugh, and Burroughs, getting into
a white heat, turned on Patrick, saying, "You fool, you have put the
saddle on with the back to the front!" Patrick at once saluted, and,
without the least hesitation, replied, "Shure, sir, you never told me
whether you were to ride to Balaclava or the front." Burroughs was so
tickled with the ready wit of the reply that from that day he took
Doolan into his service as soldier-servant, taught him his work, and
retained him till March, 1858, when Burroughs had to go on sick leave
on account of wounds. Burroughs was one of the last