and took much pleasure in all these places; he planned all these walks himself, worked at them, and helped to blow up the rocks; planting, and improving the place all his life."—I asked, "is he dead?" "No; he lives over the hills!"—"Why did he leave Moness, which he was so fond of?" What makes many leave what they like; the want of money!"—I began to look upon my diminutive guide as a very sharp wight; which, ere long, I was thoroughly convinced of. The evening was towards the close, and I was amusing myself with my guide's remarks, till I entered the windings of the darker recesses of the woods and rocks, hanging over the water; when on a short turn, we perceived before us, a stout man, whose aspect was by no means promising. The lad came near me, and whispered, "he is a thief."—A hatchet was on the man's shoulder; it struck me (particularly as I was in the Highlands), that that instrument aimed at wood, not at me; so I advanced without fear, and passed the man; who, however, looked very conscious of executed, or meditated mischief. The lad and he turned the point of a rock, and began talking Galic pretty loud: still I advanced, thinking more of what I saw before me (for just then I came to
