I was going on to make a visit at Logie Almond; and I can say but little, either for the beauty of the country, or the road from Buchanty thither; for except the great number of neat (and in a far better style than any other I saw in Scotland) farm houses on Mr. Drummond's estate, all appeared dreary, black, and bare. Logie Almond, within itself, abounds in wood, and the house is situated on the bank of the Almond, very romanticly. But of all the spots, for its size, none can compare to the sweet Eden, of Leadnock.
The old Scotch ballad, of Bessy Bell and Mary Gray, gives the history of two affectionate faithful friends; how
"They bigg'd a bower on yon burn brae,
"And theek'd it o'er with rashes," &c.
And it is the burn that moans through the thickets at Leadnock, by which these friends chose to big their bower, and there to retire to avoid the plague. Their lover followed them; but they did not escape the fatal disease, for all three fell victims to its rage.
About thirty years since, the small estate of Leadnock was purchased by an officer, who found it in the rudest state of nature. Like our first
