to that on his ticket. This is the fairest way I can think of for the
distribution, and every one seems satisfied with the scheme. The most
popular books are those of travel or adventure; unless a novel is really
very good indeed, they do not care about it.

The last little item of home news with which I must close this month's
budget is, that F---- has been away for a few days on a skating
excursion. A rather distant neighbour of ours called on his way up to
the station far back among the hills, and gave such a glowing account of
the condition of the ice in that part of the country, that F----, who is
very fond of the amusement, was persuaded to accompany him. Our friend
is the son of the Bishop, and owns a large station about twenty-six
miles from this. At the back of his run the hills rise to a great
height, and nestled among them lie a chain of lakes, after the largest
of which (Lake Coleridge) Mr. H----'s station is named. On one of the
smaller lakes, called by the classical name of "Ida," the ice attains to
a great thickness; for it is surrounded by such lofty hills that during
the winter months the sun hardly touches it, and it is commonly reported
that a heavily-laden bullock-dray could cross it in perfect safety.
F----was away nearly a week, and appears to have enjoyed himself
thoroughly, though it will seem to you more of hard work than amusement;
for he and Mr. H----, and some other gentlemen who were staying there,
used to mount directly after breakfast, with their skates tied to their
saddle-bow, and ride twelve miles to Lake Ida, skate all through the
short winter's day, lunching at the solitary hut of a gentleman-farmer
close by the lake, and when it grew dusk riding home again. The
gentlemen in this country are in such good training through constant
exercise, that they appear able to stand any amount of fatigue without
minding it.

Letter XII: My first expedition.

Broomielaw, October 1866. This ought to be early spring, but the weather
is really colder and more disagreeable than any which winter brought us;
and, proverbially fickle as spring sunshine and showers are in England,
ours is a far more capricious and trying season. Twice during this month
have I been a victim to these sudden changes of climate; on the first
occasion it was most fortunate that we had reached the shelter of a
friendly and hospitable roof, for it was three days before we could
re-cross the mountain-pass which lay bet