ents a tranquillity and peacefulness in appearance that have almost the effect of a sedative! But that is not to say that Berwick is content to slumber in the past. Far from it. Up-to-date shops are jostling the ancient buildings; there are modern hotels, cinema, and golf course. From its High Street you may travel far and wide by the ubiquitous motor 'bus. Through its central streets run the tourist cars of two countries. And that brings me back to my starting point. Berwick to-day, as I said, broad, smooth thoroughfare for all kinds of road traffic. It was, I think, Dr Johnston who gave vent in his spleen to the cynical remark that the fairest prospect for a Scotsman was the highroad into England. Well, here is an additional outlet for the venturous Scot who seeks by modern methods to find in England what his forefathers strove to gain by might of arm. And, be it said, Berwick's latest enterprise will be regarded with no less kindly eye by the Southerner coming north-for whatever purpose. The Prince has a word with one of the old residents of Berwick-upon-Tweed instead of being a chief point of conflict, To those who know the eastern Border country the reason for this will be apparent. Hitherto for road traffic the only connection between the great roads from the south and the highways from the north at Berwick-and the nearest alternative route lies many miles west -has been the antiquated stone bridge which joins Berwick and Tweedmouth. It is a long, narrow structure, so narrow that two vehicles had scarce room to pass abreast. The footpath was so narrow that timid pedestrians sought refuge in the embrasures when vehicular traffic was approaching. The bridge's inconvenience may best be illustrated by a story. A shepherd was driving a flock of sheep across the bridge. Traffic was at a standstill. The straggling leaders of the flock were over the bridge and were taking the wrong turning. The shepherd urged his dog forward to bring them back, but the collie was unable to BERWICK WELCOMES THE PRINCE. [" Daily Record get through the dense mass of woollies The new bridge stretches from near the heart of Berwick across the noble Tweed to Tweedmouth. It stands midway between the old stone bridge and photo. an open gateway between North and South Britain? Why should not the gate be thrown open to the ocean, so that the ships of all nations might enter? Anyone who reads the stirring history of the brave, old town, must be convinced that only its unfortunate position between two rival races has prevented it developing into the first-class sea port which it should have been. Its situation is ideal, opposite the main ports of Europe, and the very centre of "this much loved island.” Berwick was at one time the most important town in our island, and could again be made one of its greatest by developing the docks at the mouth of the Tweed. The vista is vast, but even the wildest schemes become possible when enthusiasm and dogged determination are ap plied to them. Borderers are noted for these qualities, and we trust that our Prince, who opened this great Border bridge, may live to see our dreams realised. [We are indebted to "The Motor World" for this article and the photo plate of the bridge.] An East Lothian Hamlet. WHEN a strong wind blows in from the west that's the time to walk along the quiet, winding lanes of Haddingtonshire. The air is fragrant with the warm, romantic scent of meadowsweet. The hedges that form a boundary for the gorgeous crops of wheat and barley are splashed with the royal purple of trailing vetch. The vivid pink wildrose bushes cannot blush unseen. The wind sweeps forward in successive waves over the barley and dances buoyantly over the corn. The fields are brimming over with shimmering light and bloom and bliss. The scarlet ranks of poppies nod unceasingly, and the yellow daisies that flood the Dorset fields with gold are abundantly illuminating Scottish soil, in colour a richer shade than the breast of the merry yellowhammer perched on an old gate tuning up his little lyre. Hornless feeding bullocks (with the domed forehead of Sir Walter), clad in glowing shaggy coats of tan and brown, gaze drearily out of light-eyelashed eyes. Deprived of horns for tossing the unwary, gaping, perchance adventurous pedestrian, life is a dull sort of thing. In the air, however, a lively enough contest rages. An enormous crow flying off with a giant worm (doubtless to feed his second brood) is surrounded by three envious seagulls. One seizes and secures the worm ere it has a chance to turn. The air seems full of pursuing beating wings and a captive swaying worm. How can a gull on the defensive get the full flavour? He gives three big gulps in swift flight, the worm vanishes and the combatants separate. Round a bend in the road, in a beautifull setting, lies an immaculate clubhouse. Eight plutocrats advance towards it heavily weighted with golfing kit. An eager garrison of small caddies bursts from ambush and sweeps towards the force in plus-fours. One in his zeal mounts a bicycle, but cannot get up the desired speed owing to the clustering arms and legs of his fellows. If you mount Hill 60 (in feet it is just about that height) what a spactacle greets the vision! The sun which rose so quietly from the cold North Sea has reached its zenith, warming the rich sands, gilding the sand-dunes and bleaching the bents where the bathingboxes lurk. The sweeping bay vies with the Pacific-a sparkling tropical blue. Waves lined with satin break in frothing beauty. Their size increases when two torpedo destroyers, hugging the coast of Fife, dash along with crisp foam curling in their wake. An outward-bound liner slips grudgingly down, sending its mournful slightly exasperated summons for the pilot ship invisible to longing eyes. If Smooth rocks at low tide reveal delicious tepid pools where lurk diminutive playful baby crabs and their crabby elders. Hermits of all sizes tickle the palm delightfully when handled. Little whelks and winkles sway in clusters amongst the slips of dainty seaweed, and pallid creatures like transparent shrimps recall a baby's definition of a prawn-" something that looks like a mouse and tastes like a haddock." a few hermits, baby crabs, whelks and winkles are placed in a pail of water the result is exceedingly pleasant. The crabs kick the hermits out of their way as they leg round the arena in a rage. The solemn whelks and winkles work their way gradually out of the water to dry on the enamelled sides. If you say Rip, van Winkle to the slowest he becomes stationary.-E. M. B., in Glasgow Evening News." 66 of Roxburgh and Dumfries, the Inn being in the former and the officehouses in the last-named shire. Here at one time and another came many of the notable people of the day, Sir Walter Scott, the two Wordsworths (who were not impressed by the scenery), W. E. Gladstone and Warren Hastings amongst them. Hyslop in "Langholme as it was derives the name from "the Moss of St Paul "; Chalmers claims it as the site of a chapel of the Over-Kirk of Ewes, and the ruins of a chapel were still visible, according to the Statistical Account of the Parish, in 1835. Down the old Pack-horse trail, still traceable along the Mosspaul burn, rode Johnnie Armstrong with his thirty-six followers, on his way to pay homage to James V. at Teviothead, in June of the year 1529, only to be treacherously ambushed, so whispers tradition, at Linhope, nestling amonst its trees by the burnside, and led captive before the King, who had them hanged without trial. Pitscottie, writing at the time, uses nearly the same words as the ballad in describing Armstrong's appearance before the King: James, looking upon him sternly, said to his attendants, What wants that Knave that a King should have?' and ordered him and his followers to instant execution. But John Armstrong made great offers to the King. That he should sustain himself, with forty gentlemen, ever ready at his service, on their own cost, without wronging any Scottishman; secondly, that there was not a subject. in England, duke, earl or baron, but, within a certain day, he should bring him to his Majesty, either quick or dead. At length he, seeing no hope of favour, said very proudly, It is folly to seek grace at a graceless face; but had I known this, I should have lived upon the Borders in despite of King Harry and you both." Leaving Linhope, well known for its Cheviot sheep and long leased by a family of Aitchisons who were kinsmen of Christopher North, the road meanders over a pleasant, purple moor by the side of the Frostlie Burn, and passing the old farm house of Binks-still owned by a family of Elliot, descendants of Symon, a younger brother of Gilbert Elliot of Stobs, called "Gibbie wi' the gowden garters "-standing among its oak trees, ascends a steep brae leading to the village of Teviothead. Here, hard by the memorial erected to Johnnie Armstrong in 1897, is the grave of Henry Scott Riddle, the author of Scotland Yet," and pastor of the Parish, whose monument, like a great candle snuffer, stands high up on the Dryden Fell; near-by is Teviot Cottage, where he lived, and died of that painful malady which takes so heavy a toll of poets. It From Teviothead-where once stood the two towns of Carlanrigg of which Lord Dacre writes in 1514, after the battle of Flodden, that he had burned and laid waste the two towns of Carlenriggs, with the Demesynes of the same, whereupon was forty pleughes --the road slips past the Doocot and the Gledsnest and passes Coulterscleuch, where dwelt Aul Jock Grieve" of the Jamie Telfer ballad, and a little beyond is the steep, wooded bank where, according to a local anecdote, a farmer met and wrestled with the devil. was a pitch dark night as he made his way homeward from the Hawick market, where perhaps the whisky had flowed too freely, when suddenly there loomed up before him a great, shaggy monster with horns and cloven feet. For a space they stood gaping at each other until the monster, shaking its head from side to side and booing in an awesome way, took a step forward, and Dandie, like Tam O'Shanter, tint reason a' thegither," and springing forward grappled with "Auld Hornie." Long and hard they wrestled together until, at the top of the steep bank, they tripped, fell, and rolling over and over together, came to the very brink of the water when, the moon suddenly appearing from behind a cloud, flooded the night with its wan light, what was the worthy farmer's surprise to find that he had his arms firmly clasped, not about the neck of the devil, but around one of his own calves. 66 |