a long oath and the Earl's memory
was not so long."

We went from Nottingham to Glasgow. The date, I find, is May 1, 1900. It
was always Dr. Talmage's custom to visit the cemetery first, so we drove
out to the grave of John Knox. In Glasgow the Doctor preached at the
Cowcaddens Free Church to the usual crowded congregation, and he was
compelled to address an overflow meeting from the steps of the church
after the regular service. The best part of Dr. Talmage's holiday moods,
which were as scarce as he could make them because of the amount of work
he was always doing, were filled with the delight of watching the eager
interest in sightseeing of the two girls, Miss Maud Talmage and my
daughter. In Glasgow we encountered the usual wet weather of the
proverbial Scottish quality, and it was Saturday of the week before we
ventured out to see the Lakes. My daughter naively confesses the
situation to her journal as follows:--

"This A.M.--Got up at the usual starting hour, 7 o'clock, and as it
looked only dark we decided to go. At breakfast it started to rain again
and Mamma and the Doctor began to back out, but Maud and I talked to
some advantage. We argued that if we were going to sit around waiting
for a fair day in this country we might just as well give up seeing
anything more interesting than hotel parlours and dining-rooms.

"We started, and just as a 'send off' the old sky opened and let down a
deluge of water. It rained all the time we were on Loch Lomond, but that
didn't prevent us from being up on deck on the boat. From under
umbrellas we saw the most beautiful scenery in Scotland. Part of this
trip was made by coach, always in the pouring rain. We drove on and on
through the hills, seeing nothing but sheep, sheep, sheep. Doctor
Talmage asked the driver what kind of vegetables they raised in the
mountains and the driver replied--'mutton.' We had luncheon at a very
pretty little hotel on Loch Katrine, and here boarded a little steamer
launch, 'Rob Roy,' for a beautiful sail. I never, no matter where I
travel, expect to look upon a lake more beautiful. The mountains give
wildness and romance to the calm and quiet of the lake, and the island.
Maud read aloud to us parts of 'The Lady of the Lake' as we sat out on
deck."

In Edinburgh Dr. Talmage preached his well-known sermon upon unrequited
services, at the request of Lord Kintore, the son of the Earl of
Kintore, who had suggested the theme to him some years before