a very genteel young man, and gave us some account of his tour, which had not been quite so fortunate as mine. He left England, one of a large party: their new coach had broken down several times before they got to Glasgow, where it was sold for a song; and two chaises taken instead, which had also broken down; and I think overturned: at last, however, they all arrived safe at Dalwhinie, an inn I have before mentioned, where were collected, from the different branches of the roads, travellers to the amount of near thirty. Every room in that little inn was stuffed brim-full, with standing beds, boxed beds, and shake-downs. A shake-down is a bed put upon the floor or carpet, and there prepared to sleep upon. At Dalwhinie, the road to Fort Augustus over Corryarraick, branches from the great Inverness road. None of this young gentleman's party dared to encounter that road, except himself and servant, on horseback; the rest went on to Inverness by the great road. The day he crossed Corryarraick was a contiued violent rain and storm of wind, which gave it the appearance of wild desolation, beyond any thing he could describe; and the whole of the road itself, he said, was rough, dangerous, and dreadful, even for a
