hize.

I must not omit to say, that a neighbor of our host had been pressed to
come in with us; an intelligent-looking man, about fifty. In the course
of conversation, I found that they were both masons by trade, and as the
rain had prevented their working, they had met to spend their time in
reading. They said they were reading a work on America; and thereat
followed a good deal of general conversation on our country. I found
that, like many others in this old country, they had a tie to connect
them with the new--a son in America.

One of our company, in the course of the conversation, says, "They say
in America that the working classes of England and Scotland are not so
well off as the slaves." The man's eye flashed. "There are many things,"
he said, "about the working classes, which are not what they should be;
there's room for a great deal of improvement in our condition, but," he
added with an emphasis, "we are _no slaves!_" There was a, touch, of the

"Scots wha ha' wi' Wallace bled"

about the man, as he spoke, which made the affirmation quite
unnecessary.

"But," said I, "you think the affairs of the working classes much
improved of late years?"

"O, certainly," said the other; "since the repeal of the corn laws and
the passage of the factory bill, and this emigration to America and
Australia, affairs have been very much altered."

We asked them what they could make a day by their trade. It was much
less, certainly, than is paid for the same labor in our country; but yet
the air of comfort and respectability about the cottage, the
well-clothed and well-schooled, intelligent children, spoke well for the
result of their labors.

While our conversation was carried on, the teakettle commenced singing
most melodiously, and by a mutual system of accommodation, a neat tea
table was spread in the midst of us, and we soon found ourselves seated,
enjoying some delicious bread and butter, with the garniture of cheese,
preserves, and tea. Our host before the meal craved a blessing of Him
who had made of one blood all the families of the earth; a beautiful and
touching allusion, I thought, between Americans and Scotchmen. Our long
ramble in the rain had given us something of an appetite, and we did
ample justice to the excellence of the cheer.

After tea we walked on down again towards the Tweed, our host and his
friends waiting on us to the boat. As we passed through the village of
Dryburgh, all the inhabitants