the air cannot be
said to be close and sultry either--we shall let Brown Bess cool herself
in both barrels--relinquish, for an hour or so, our seat on Shelty, and,
by way of a change, pad the hoof up that smooth ascent, strangely left
stoneless--an avenue positively looking as if it were artificial, as it
stretches away, with its beautiful green undulations, among the blocks;
for though no view-hunter, we are, Hamish, what in fine language is
called a devout worshipper of Nature, an enthusiast in the sublime; and
if Nature do not show us something worth gazing at when we reach yonder
altitudes, she must be a grey deceiver, and we shall never again kneel
at her footstool, or sing a hymn in her praise.

The truth is, we have a rending headache, for Bess has been for some
hours on the kick, and Surefoot on the jog, and our exertions in the
pulpit were severe--action, Hamish, action, action, being, as
Demosthenes said some two or three thousand years ago, essential to
oratory; and you observed how nimbly we kept changing legs, Hamish, how
strenuously brandishing arms, throughout our discourse--saving the
cunning pauses, thou simpleton, when, by way of relief to our auditors,
we were as gentle as sucking-doves, and folded up our wings as if about
to go to roost, whereas we were but meditating a bolder flight--about to
soar, Hamish, into the empyrean. Over and above all that, we could not
brook Tickler's insolence, who, about the sma' hours, challenged us, you
know, quaich for quaich; and though we gave him a fair back-fall, yet we
suffered in the tulzie, and there is at this moment a throbbing in our
temples that threatens a regular brain-fever. We burn for an air-bath on
the mountain-top. Moreover, we are seized with a sudden desire for
solitude--to be plain, we are getting sulky; so ascend, Surefoot,
Hamish, and be off with the pointers--O'Bronte goes with us--north-west,
making a circumbendibus round the _Tomhans_, where Mhairhe M'Intyre
lived seven years with the fairies; and in a couple of hours or so you
will find us under the Merlin Crag.

We offer to walk any man of our age in Great Britain. But what _is_ our
age? Confound us if we know within a score or two. Yet we cannot get rid
of the impression that we are under ninety. However, as we seek no
advantage, and give no odds, we challenge the octogenarians of the
United Kingdom--fair toe and heel--a twelve-hour match--for love, fame,
and a legitimate exchequer bill f