scurry age circular tours and flying visits are the order of the day. Don't run to the centre of the district-Langholm, all the way by rail. Order a conveyance to meet you at Scotch Dyke Station, eight miles south of Langholm, and leave the North British Railway there. The enterprising coach proprietors of Canonbie or Langholm will attend to your needs, be it cab, digby, or coach, handsome vehicles well horsed. Before starting, go on to the high ground near the station, face north and look across the "Borderland" and "Canonbie Lea." You stand on the old "Debateable land." Mark the junction of the Esk and Liddle. Run the

when the plume-capped sycamore, the towering pine, and the graceful palm in their various shades of green, enhanced each others beauty, and blent harmoniously with the browns and greys of the surrounding hills. The hills have not the rugged grandeur of the northern "Bens,' but with their rounded heights and diverse colours they possess a beauty all their own. In autumn, when splashed with gold and purple, they are glorious. But to the reason why we pen these lines, that the visitor may not be tempted to loss the best of it. In this hurry

J. Glendinning, Langholm.

eye about a quarter of a mile up the Liddle (the curving silver streak to the east), and see, where "Bonnie Prince Charlie" first set his foot on English soil in the '45, and slept that night at the Mailysyke, in that kingdom whose crown he was on his way to take, but didn't. Note as you proceed the fatness of the land, and the names of the places, how they tell of priest and church. On! past Priorslynn and Crosskeys you cross to the east bank of the Esk, and skirt Priorhill. Keep your eyes open now for every glint of the Esk. Move slowly, round

"

Go for Adam (the beadle) Janet. Tell him I wish him to come at once to carry in the coals."

Janet departed: the minister resumed his serinon. In half-an-hour the silence was again broken by Janet's entrance.

"Please, sir, Adam's no' weel. He's in his bed, an' canna cairry in coals the day."

"That is unfortunate, Janet. To-morrow is the Sabbath. The coals cannot lie on the public road. Something must be done. Ask your mistress to come here, if she is disengaged."

In a few minutes Mrs Morris danced into the

study. She was a sweet-looking young creature, bright as Spring, and daintily robed.

Elizabeth, my love, the coals have come. Adam is ill, and cannot carry them in. What is to be done?"

to have them lying there on the Lord's Day, an eyesore, if not a positive inconvenience to our people coming to church."

Suppose we send to the farm, and ask if one of the men can be spared for an hour or two." "Very good. You might do so; I am anxious to get on with the writing of my dis

course."

Another half-hour elapsed. breathless.

"

Janet entered

'Please, sir, I hae been to the farm. There's no' a man aboot the place. This is their halfday; and Libby says no' ane o' them will be back till supperin'-time-that's aicht o'clock."

Dismissing the woman with a gesture, the minister wrote rapidly for a few minutes, then, laying aside his completed sermon, he betook himself to the garden, where he found his wife engaged in a lively conversation with two young men-University graduates-who were spending Easter at the Manse. One was Mrs Morris' brother Charlie Pullar-the other his College chum, Lionel Eglin, known to his familiars by the name of "Poker."

Mrs Morris and Mr Eglin reclined on camp chairs on the lawn, Charlie Pullar lay on the grass at their feet, his hands clasped behind his head, and his straw hat drawn over his eyes. The conversation declined as the minister approached. The lady's merry laugh died away to a gentle ripple; the gentlemen roused themselves.

"Elizabeth, I feel somewhat disturbed about these coals. The farm men are on holiday and will not return till late. We simply must have them housed before to-morrow. Cannot Janet carry them in?"

No, dear, I could not ask Janet to do so. Saturday is the busiest day in the week with her. She has still much to do in preparation for to-morrow. And, indeed, I would not care to see a woman carry in two cart-loads of coal after a hard day's work."

"Certainly not, while there are strong idle men on the premises, broke in Mr Eglin. Get up, Charlie; we'll carry in the coals."

"

By Jove! we will, Poker, for the fun of the thing. Two University dons-Lionel Eglin, M.B., C.M.-Charles Pullar, B.Sc. Oh, it's too good! Ha, ha, ha! Say, Sis, can you rig us cut? We'll need something to put over our clothes. What about our starch, Poker? The work won't improve it."

"If you are really bent on doing this charitable deed, boys, I can lend you suitable apparel, said the minister almost cagerly. "I have only white shirts I am afraid, but I dare say they will wash again."

"I can do better than that, Christopher" urged Mrs Morris. "I bought some lovely darkcoloured shirts last week to give to the poor. Let Charlie and Mr Eglin wear these. I can get others. They are beautifully dark, the dust will not be seen on them. And they can wear the old suits you laid out for tags for the apple trees. They must not spoil their nice clothes. Go dress, boys, and I'll tell Janet to keep good fires. You'll want half-an-hour in the bathroom before tea, won't you."

The young gentlemen assented and departed. “Elizabeth, if I thought no one would call, I would help them" announced the minister, catching the spirit of the enterprise.

"Oh do, Chris.," said Mrs Morris, bravely suppressing a great inclination to laugh aloud. "Many hands make light work, and it does not seem kind to our guests to allow them to undertake this business alone."

"You have on old suit on to-day," she continued. "Of course you will take off your coat. It does not matter if your shirt suffers. But you must have an apron. Come up stairs and I will get you one."

The loving wife would fain have fastened one of her own pretty, flimsy cooking aprons about her spouse, but to this the reverend gentleman objected, and the matter was finally settled by one of Janet's skodgie-brats being brought into requisition.

"Darling, you look enchanting," Mrs Morris exclaimed, surveying her husband after tying the knot with her own fair hands. "Now go, begin, while I hurry on the boys."

The Rev. Christopher strode away, his almost latent sense of humour striving hard to get the better of his habitual stolidity.

Mrs Morris encountered the University men on the stairs. At sight of the slight athletic figures clad in her portly husband's ample garments, and wearing the "poverty" shirts, she sank down on the nearest step, put her hands to her sides, and laughed till tears ran down her rosy cheeks. The two worthies laughed with her. Janet, in the kitchen, was astounded at the unwonted sounds of hilarity.

"Do go along, boys," said Mrs Morris presently. "Get finished quickly, and I will make something nice for tea. And remember I have asked two of the prettiest girls in Cheviot's Glens-Kate and Nettie Elliot, whom you have both seen before-to spend to-morrow with us. So do not disfigure your handsome countenances, or damage your manly hands."

The two friends entered the Manse courtyard, and, passing through a small gate which led to the public road, came upon the Rev.

Christopher Morris and the coals.

of years had prevailed; the spirit of humour, slightingly treated, had departed; and the eminent divine bent his back to the work, and heaved the coals into the wheel-barrow with as grave a countenance as ever graced his pulpit. Charlie looked: Charlie saw. "Poker, I'm

I'm going for a shovel,"

he gasped, and vanished.

Mr Eglin set to work. Acting upon the minister's advice, he carried in his arms some huge blocks of coal, by way of making a foundation for the proper building up of the rest of the mineral.

After ten minutes of this work, he went in search of Charlie, having become suspicious of his continued absence. He found him in the summer-house, calmly smoking a cigar.

"You lazy beggar!" Mr Eglin began.

"Don't, Poker, don't. For mercy's sake don't revile me. I couldn't bear it. Honestly I could not. I've laughed till I am ill. Here, take a cigar. I'll go with you presently. The shock was too much for me, Poker. Sis said the 'Serious Man' was going to help us, but I did not expect him to look quite like that. There he was, working with might and main, as if his life were at stake. Not a smile on his face; his thoughts soaring to heights sublime I have no doubt, and Janet's long coarse apron tripping him up at every step. . . . And his beautiful white shirt sleeves, and the spotless collar that Sis boasts of ironing. Oh, for a camera! We look queer, Poker. Yes, I must say we look slightly odd. But then we see the fun of the thing: the 'Serious Man' doesn't. Now, I am going to work. It is not humane to leave our brother so long alone at the task. Don't speak to me, Poker; don't look at me unless we meet alone in the coalhouse, for if you do, I'll explode right in the good man's face, and Sis will never forgive me."

"Kate, dear, let us walk down this last hill. I feel cramped being so long in the saddle; and we're just at the Manse."

Now,

"All right, Nettie. Hold my cycle while I fasten my veil. We have outridden Walter, but I expect he will soon overtake us. let us go on. The next corner brings us in sight of the Manse. Won't Bessie be surprised to see us?"

"Nettie!" exclaimed Kate a minute later, "Bessie has been getting coals. and three horrid men are carrying them in. I don't like passing them. I do hope they won't speak to us. Some of these men are so vulgar, and often dreadfully rude. Don't even look at them,

Nettie, and let us pass as quickly and quietly as possible. The Manse gate is just beyond. There now, one of them is away with the wheelbarrow, and the other two have their backs to us. If they will only keep like that for one minute!"

So the prettiest girls in Cheviot's Glens tripped past, with their little heads very high in the air, and all the dignity at the command of their seventeen and nineteen years thrown into their carriage to assist them bravely to pass these horrid men.

Charlie and his friend, hard at work, were not aware of the proximity of the fair ones until they had passed. Charlie looked up, and recognised them as they entered the Manse gater. He passed the news to Poker. Poker and he hurriedly retired to the coal-house, when the minister was emerging with the empty wheel-barrow.

"Darling Bessie! haven't we given you a surprise?" Kate exclaimed as she embraced Mrs Morris. Welter is with us. We meant to answer your kind note this morning, but missed the post. So mother thought, as the afternoon was fine, we had best ride over and tell you how pleased we will be to come to church to-morrow, and spend the rest of the day with you. Are you all alone? Where are your gentlemen ?"

"Did you-did you not see them as you came in?" Mrs Morris stammered.

"No. We saw no one but three common men carrving in your coals." broke in Nettie. "And we were almost afraid to pass them. But they did not speak to us. Here comes Walter

wheeling his cvcle."

Welter was the small brother of the young ladies.

I've had a

"How do you do, Mrs Morris! puncture. By the way, I promised to tell you there is a poor tramp at the back gate, asking to see Mr Morris."

"A tramp! A real tramp? Oh, I must see the poor man. I'll be back in a minute, girls. Go into the study."

In verv truth a gentleman of the road stood at the back gate.

"My poor man," cried Mrs Morris rushing up to him, "What can I do for you?"

"A little assistance, lady. would be gratefully received. I have had a severe illness, and feel very feeble. I have done no work for three months."

"Will you carry in these coals?"

"You'see, ma'am," whined the beggar, “I've been so poorly, and

“I'll give you half-a-crown; no, I'll give you five shillings to carry in these coals before dark," said Mrs Morris eyeing the man keenly.

"Done !" was the eager response. “You would not care to give me a trifle beforehand just by way of encouragement, would you,

now?"

"I won't do that," replied Mrs Morris, an angry gleam flashing from her eye at the fellow's impudence, "but I will give you five shillings and a good supper when I see the coals housed. I'm the minister's wife, you may trust me."

"And I will, lady." And he set to work. Mrs Morris found her husband emptying his harrow in the coal-house. She explained the situation to him, and sent him to dress. Entering the house, she hurried to the bath-room, from whence issued sounds of vigorous splashing. "Are you there, boys?" she called through the key-hole.

"Yes," whispered Charlie.

"They did not know you. I have not told. Don't say a word. Chris. understands. Come down as soon as possible, but wash carefully."

"Bessie, you're a brick," was the verdict when Charlie and Mr Eglin returned from escorting the ladies home.

"I can't laugh any more," declared Mr Eglin. "I thought I would die at tea-time. I dared not look at Charlie."

They will be with us all day to-morrow," Mrs Morris reminded them.

"We must not tell them, Charlie." "We must not tell them to-morrow, Poker; but perhaps we'll tell them some day.

"Perhaps."

Eh?" CHEVIOT.