drinking cups (called among us a "Quaigh"),
while Felicia, instructed by me, ran to the kitchen for the cream-jug.
Filling the cup with whisky and cream in equal proportions, I offered it
to him. He drank it off as if it had been so much water. "Stimulant and
nourishment, you'll observe, sir, in equal portions," I remarked to him.
"How do you feel now?"

"Ready for another," says he.

Felicia burst out laughing. I gave him another. As I turned to hand it
to him, sister Judith came behind me, and snatched away the cream-jug.
Never a generous person, sister Judith, at the best of times--more
especially in the matter of cream.

He handed me back the empty cup. "I believe, sir, you have saved my
life," he said. "Under Providence," I put in--adding, "But I would
remark, looking to the state of your clothes, that I have yet another
service to offer you, before you tell us how you came into this pitiable
state." With that reply, I led him upstairs, and set before him the
poor resources of my wardrobe, and left him to do the best he could with
them. He was rather a small man, and I am in stature nigh on six feet.
When he came down to us in my clothes, we had the merriest evening
that I can remember for years past. I thought Felicia would have had a
hysteric fit; and even sister Judith laughed--he did look such a comical
figure in the minister's garments.

As for the misfortune that had befallen him, it offered one more example
of the preternatural rashness of the English traveler in countries
unknown to him. He was on a walking tour through Scotland; and he had
set forth to go twenty miles a-foot, from a town on one side of the
Highland Border, to a town on the other, without a guide. The only
wonder is that he found his way to Cauldkirk, instead of perishing of
exposure among the lonesome hills.

"Will you offer thanks for your preservation to the Throne of Grace, in
your prayers to-night?" I asked him. And he answered, "Indeed I will!"

We have a spare room at the manse; but it had not been inhabited for
more than a year past. Therefore we made his bed, for that night, on the
sofa in the parlor; and so left him, with the fire on one side of his
couch, and the whisky and the mutton ham on the other in case of need.
He mentioned his name when we bade him good-night. Marmaduke Falmer
of London, son of a minister of the English Church Establishment, now
deceased. It was plain, I may add, before he spoke, that we had offered