e window marked "Dairy?" The pigs are somewhat too
sumptuously lodged in that elegant sty, and the hen-roost might
accommodate a phoenix. But the features of the chief porch are very
happily hit off--you have caught the very attic spirit of the roof--and
some of the windows may be justly said to be staring
likenesses.--Ivy-cottage is slipped into our portfolio, and we shall
compare it, on our return to Scotland, with Buchanan Lodge.

Gallantry forbids, but Truth demands to say, that young ladies are but
indifferent sketchers. The dear creatures have no notion of perspective.
At flower-painting and embroidery, they are pretty fair hands, but they
make sad work among waterfalls and ruins. Notwithstanding, it is
pleasant to hang over them, seated on stone or stool, drawing from
nature; and now and then to help them in with a horse or a hermit. It is
a difficult, almost an impossible thing--that foreshortening. The most
speculative genius is often at a loss to conjecture the species of a
human being foreshortened by a young lady. The hanging Tower at Pisa is,
we believe, some thirty feet or so off the perpendicular, and there is
one at Caerphilly about seventeen; but these are nothing to the castles
in the air we have seen built by the touch of a female magician; nor is
it an unusual thing with artists of the fair sex to order their plumed
chivalry to gallop down precipices considerably steeper than a house, on
animals apparently produced between the tiger and the bonassus. When
they have succeeded in getting something like the appearance of water
between what may be conjectured banks, they are not very particular
about its running occasionally up-hill; and it is interesting to see a
stream stealing quietly below trees in gradual ascension, till,
disappearing for a few minutes over one summit, it comes thundering down
another, in the shape of a waterfall, on the head of an elderly
gentleman, unsuspectingly reading Mr Wordsworth's "Excursion," perhaps,
in the foreground. Nevertheless, we repeat, that it is delightful to
hang over one of the dear creatures, seated on stone or stool, drawing
from nature; for whatever may be the pencil's skill, the eye may behold
the glimpse of a vision whose beauty shall be remembered when even
Windermere herself has for a while faded into oblivion.

On such excursions there are sure to occur a few enviable adventures.
First, the girths get wrong, and, without allowing your beloved virgin
to