proposed sending
the document to certain chosen spirits in our own country, who were
pleased to be facetious concerning our devotion to Scotland. It
contained, in sooth, little that was new, and still less that was
true, for we were confined to a very small vocabulary which we were
obliged to supplement now and then by a dip into Burns and Allan
Ramsay.

Here is the letter:--

BIDE-A-WEE COTTAGE,
PETTYBAW.
_East Neuk o' Fife_.

TO MY TRUSTY FIERES,--Mony's the time I hae ettled to send ye a
screed, but there was aye something that cam' i' the gait. It wisna
that I couldna be fashed, for aften hae I thocht o' ye and my hairt
has been wi' ye mony's the day. There's no muckle fowk frae Ameriky
hereawa; they're a' jist Fife bodies, and a lass canna get her tongue
roun' their thrapple-taxin' words ava, so it's like I may een drap a'
the sweetness o' my good mither-tongue.

'Tis a dulefu' nicht, and an awful blash is ragin' wi'oot. Fanny's
awa' at the gowff rinnin' aboot wi' a bag o' sticks after a wee bit
ba', and Sally and I are hame by oor lane. Laith will the lassie be to
weet her bonny shoon, but lang ere the play'll be o'er, she'll wat her
hat aboon. A gust o' win' is skirlin' the noo, and as we luik ower the
faem, the haar is risin', weetin' the green swaird wi' misty shoo'rs.

Yestreen was a calm simmer gloamin', sae sweet an' bonnie that while
the sun was sinkin' doon ower Pettybaw Sands, we daundered ower the
muir. As we cam' through the scented birks, we saw a trottin' burnie
wimplin' 'neath the white-blossomed slaes and hirplin' doon the
hillside; an' while a herd-laddie lilted ower the fernie brae, a
cushat crooed leesomely doon i' the dale. We pit aff oor shoon, sae
blithe were we, kilted oor coats a little aboon the knee and paidilt
i' the burn, gettin' gey an' weet the while. Then Sally pu'd the
gowans wat wi' dew an' twined her bree wi' tasseled broom, while I had
a wee crackie wi' Tibby Buchan, the flesher's dochter frae Auld
Reekie. Tibby's nae giglet gawky like the lave, ye ken,--she's a
sonsie maid, as sweet as ony hinny pear, wi' her twa pawky een an' her
cockernony snooded up fu' sleek.

We were unco gleg to win hame when a' this was dune, an' after
steekin' the door, to sit an' taist oor taes at the bit blaze. Mickle
thocht we o' the gentles