Warlock o' Glenwarlock: A Homely Romance

and even expatriation. He had descended the stream that rushed past the end of the house, till it joined the valley river, and followed the latter up, to where it took a sudden sharp tur

f he were miles from home. No shadow of life was to be seen. Cottage-chimney nor any smoke was v

tainly, as often as he came-and he liked to visit the spot, and would sometimes spend hours in it-he felt like a hermit of the wilderness cut off from human society, and was haunted with a vague sense of neighbouring hostility. Probab

far from one who lies on his back in the grass, with the sound of waters in his ears. And indeed a sleep in the open air was almost an essential ingredient of a holiday such as Cosmo

ow in the grass; and what could the strange thing be which he saw on the crest of the height before him, on the other side of the water? Was it a fire in a grate, thinned away by the sunlight? How could there be a grate where there was neither house nor wall? Even in heraldry the combination he beheld would have been a strange one. Th

's Jeames Grade's coo 'at's been loupin

long however, but was soon on the cow's back, as she crept up and up in the face of t

the mune, The reid gowd

to change its garment, he would say to himself with a sigh, "The coo's no ower the mune yet!" and set himself afresh to the task of shaping a handle on the infinite small enough for a finite to lay hold of. Grizzie, who was out looking for him, h

e cried. "An' preserve's a'! what set ye lauchin' in

ie! Ye wad hae lauchen

une atween the hin' an

terribl

e puir coo cudna help whaur the mune wad gang.

e, seriously alarmed lest he should be in reality fey, gre

e's the laird speirin' what's come o

d the more, and went on until at length

yer tongue wi' that menseless-like lauchin', I'll

nicht gien I haud my tong

-that's gien I c

no more. They walked home t

e little spot was such as to make it specially desirable in the eyes of the next proprietor, on the border of whose land it lay. He was a lord of session, and had taken his title from the place, which he inherited from his father; who, although a laird, had been so little of a gentleman, that the lordship had not been enough to make one of his son. He was yet another of those trim, orderly men, who will sacrifice anything-not to beauty-of that they have in general no sense-but to tidiness: tidiness in law, in divinity, in morals, in estate, in garden, in house, in person-tidiness is in their eyes the first thing-seemingly because it is the highest creative energy of which they are capable. Naturally the dwelling of James Gracie was an eyesore to thi

caption: COSMO ON