y the rattle of railways trains. No great
distance from Berwick and directly on the ocean stands Fast Castle, said
to be the prototype of the Wolf's Crag of "Lammermoor." This wild story
had always interested me in my boyhood days and for years I had dreamed
of the possibility of some time seeing the supposed retreat of the
melancholy Master of Ravenswood. We had great difficulty in locating the
castle, none of the people seeming to know anything about it, and we
wandered many miles among the hills through narrow, unmarked byways,
with little idea of where we were really going. At last, after dint of
inquiry, we came upon a group of houses which we were informed were the
headquarters of a large farm of about two thousand acres, and
practically all the people who worked on the farm lived, with their
families, in these houses. The superintendent knew of Fast Castle, which
he said was in a lonely and inaccessible spot, situated on a high,
broken headland overlooking the ocean. It was two or three miles distant
and the road would hardly admit of taking the car any farther. He did
not think the ruin was worth going to see, anyhow; it had been cared for
by no one and within his memory the walls had fallen in and crumbled
away. Either his remarks or the few miles walk discouraged me, and after
having traveled fully thirty miles to find this castle, I turned about
and went on without going to the place at all, and of course I now
regret it as much as anything I failed to do on our whole tour. I shall
have to go to Fast Castle yet--by motor car.

After regaining the main road, it was only a short run along the edge of
the ocean to Berwick-on-Tweed, which we reached early in the evening. I
recall no more delightful day during our tour. It had been fresh and
cool, and the sky was perfectly clear. For a great part of the way the
road had passed within view of the ocean, whose deep unruffled blue,
entirely unobscured by the mists which so often hang over the northern
seas, stretched away until it was lost in the pale, sapphire hues of the
skies. The country itself was fresh and bright after abundant rains, and
as haymaking was in progress in many places along the road, the air was
laden with the scent of the newly mown grasses. Altogether, it was a day
long to be remembered.

Berwick-on-Tweed lies partly in England and partly in Scotland, the
river which runs through it forming the boundary line. An odd bridge
built by James I conn