r of the _Anatomy of
Melancholy_, used to dissipate his sombre thoughts by listening to the
coarse badinage of bargemen: a modern, afflicted with Burton's
complaint, might well find a cure in the smoking-room of a hotel among a
company of commercial travellers. One Saturday night, in a Shetland
hotel, I listened to a crowd of these merry gentlemen communicating to
each other their several collections of stories. Before doing so, they
all sang with great fervour the well-known hymn _The Sands of Time are
Sinking_, a whisky-traveller officiating at the harmonium. One of the
number ostentatiously beat time with his pipe. It was a very affecting
scene, and certain of the singers were moved to tears at their own
melody.

The company then settled down, in a pleased frame of mind, to tell
stories. I noted some of these, and as they were new to me, I cherish
the hope that they may not be stale to others. The following
preliminary sonnet to Sir Walter Raleigh seems to be apposite and new;
it is needed to give atmosphere to the tales:

Raleigh! the benefactor of thy kind,
May azure undulations ever roll
As incense to thee from the glowing bowl,
Thy rapt disciples fume with placid mind
In easy chair, by ingle-nook reclined!
Next to the mage, Prometheus, who stole
From Heaven's court with philanthropic soul,
The wonder-working fire, thou art enshrined
In mortal bosoms as a friend, for thou
Did'st bring from sunset isles the magic leaf
That weaves enchantment's halo round the brow,
Alleviates the pang of every grief
And stirs the bard, exempt from fretting cares,
To wail the weird of pipeless millionaires.

And now for the stories.

"PEELIN'S BELOW THE TREE."

A Sunday School teacher in the island of Luing was giving a lesson on
the disobedience of Adam and Eve, and the fruit of that forbidden tree
whose mortal taste brought death into this world, and other ills. At the
close of his harangue, which was rather above the heads of the children,
he said, "Can any of you tell me _how the Creator knew_ that Adam had
eaten the apple?" There was silence for a time. At last one boy, with a
glimmer of light in his eyes, shouted: "Please, sir, because He _saw the
peelin's below the tree_."

"SHE'S AWAY."

An Englishman staying in Oban, wished to visit the island of Coll, and
discovered, on enquiry at Macbrayne's office, that the S.S. _Fingal_
left for that outer isle at