ar or ready conception of it
or its whereabouts, began to feel as if it were of a half-fabulous
character. At length, however, at a place called Crossford, we were
told we should have to leave our carriage and the road, and ascend the
side of the valley to the northward, where, about a mile and a half
onward, we should find a small farm called Laggan Park. This we hoped
to find to be the true place. To walk a mile and a half up hill on a
roasting July day was not a task to be encountered on light grounds;
however, we had resolved to make out our point if possible. Behold a
couple of wayfarers, then, pursuing their way along the skirts of
turnip-fields, through slight coppices, and along various clayey
braes, with this unseen place of Laggan Park still keeping wonderfully
ahead, long after it ought to have been reached. We wondered how the
Ayrshire bard would have looked carrying a punch-bowl along our
present path, after a journey of eight miles similarly loaded; and
whether he would have thought any amount of the 'barley bree' during
'the lee-lang night' a fair recompense for his toils. At length, we
arrived at the spot, but in a state of deliquescence and exhaustion
not to be described. It is a small farm-establishment, nestling in a
bosom of the hills, with some shelter and good exposure, making up for
elevation of position, so that its few fields of growing grain, of
potatoes, and meadow grass, have a tolerably good appearance. Some
patches of ancient coppice at the base of the barish hills behind,
give it even a smiling aspect. The farmer, seeing us approach, left
his people in the field, and came to greet us. We entered a neat clean
room, and met a kind reception from 'the Mistress,' who was as trigly
dressed as if she had been expecting company. It soon became clear,
from our conversation with the good couple, that our toils were
crowned with success. This really had been Nicol's property; it still
belonged to a member of his family. That line of gray heights seen
from the door was what Burns alluded to when he facetiously dubbed his
friend 'Illustrious lord of Laggan's many hills.' This cottage had
been the retreat of the High School master in his hours of rustic
vacation. There was a difficulty, which we discussed over a glass of
most welcome spirits and water furnished by the farmer: Did this neat
room form a part of the dwelling of Nicol? It appeared not. It was a
modern addition. The original house, to which