ht to
the hammer. But he was not only the greatest arboriculturist in the
world, but the founder of tree-farming as a productive industry as
well as a decorative art. Already it has transformed the Highlands
of Scotland and trebled their value, as well as clothed them with a
new and beautiful scenery. What we call the Scotch larch was not
originally a native of that country. Close to the cathedral in
Dunkeld stand the two patriarchs of the family, first introduced
into Scotland from Switzerland in 1737.

Having remained the best part of two days in Dunkeld, I held on
northward, through heavily-shaded and winding glen and valley to
Blair Atholl. For the whole distance of twenty miles the country is
quite Alpine, wild and grand, with mountains larched or firred to
the utmost reach and tenure of soil for roots; deep, dark gorges
pouring down into the narrowing river their foamy, dashing streams;
mansions planted here and there on sloping lawns showing sunnily
through groves and parks; now a hamlet of cottages set in the side
of a lofty hill, now a larger village opening suddenly upon you at
the turning of the turnpike road. I reached Blair Atholl at about
dark, and lodged at the largest hotel I slept in between London and
John O'Groat's. It is virtually the tourist's inn; for this is the
centre of some of the most interesting and striking sceneries and
localities in Scotland. Glens, waterfalls, stream, torrent,
mountain and valley, with their romantic histories, make this a very
attractive region to thousands of summer travellers from England and
other countries. The railway from Perth to Inverness via Dunkeld
and Blair Atholl, has just opened up this secluded Scotch
Switzerland to multitudes who never would have seen it without the
help of the Iron Horse. A month previous, this point had been the
most distant in Scotland from steam-routes of transportation and
travel. Now southern sportsmen were hiring up "the shooting" for
many miles on both sides of the line, making the hills and glens
echo with their fusillades. Blair Castle, the duke's mansion, is a
very ordinary building in appearance, looking from the public road
like a large four-story factory painted white, with small, old-
fashioned windows. He himself was lying in a very painful and
precarious condition, with a cancer in the throat, from which it was
the general impression that he never would recover. The day
preceding, the Queen had visited him,