t. In this way Dr Burton has described himself
as the guest of Mrs Gordon at Abergeldie, who, as he said, made a
request that when he came to visit her he would if possible arrive
before midnight. Invercauld, Glenkindie, Tough, and many other
country-houses, were visited in the same unceremonious way.

The letter here given was written to his mother during one of these
holiday rambles, when its writer was about twenty, and describes some of
the scenes of the wonderful flood of '29, so graphically described by
Sir Thomas Dick Lauder. The Colonel H. was the son of Dr Burton's
godfather, and a man of mature years at the time the Highlander and Dr
Burton describe him as having "run away." The writer can offer no
explanation of this rather amusing passage in the letter: it might
either be a mere joke or refer to some family quarrel of the Colonel's.

"LAKEFIELD, _8th September 1829_.

"MY DEAR MOTHER,--I have just arrived at Lakefield in the midst of
determined and ceaseless rain. I expected of course to meet A.H.
here, but it seems he ran away the other day, and will by this time
be in Aberdeen. He wrote to Mrs Grant from Elgin, but she has not
yet heard of his arrival in Aberdeen.

"In my way here I ran a risk of being violently used for his sake.
As I was perambulating slowly the border of Loch Ness I met a tall,
gaunt-looking man, who eyed me rather suspiciously, and stretched
forth his hands in the attitude of one interrupting a stray sheep.
I looked at the being in my turn, and began to be a little
suspicious of his purpose, and to think of my dirk. The man
approached nearer still in the attitude of making a spring. When he
had come so close that I could hardly escape him, he roared out:
'Is't you 'at's the laad Colonel H. 'at's been runnan' awa'?' 'No,'
said I, 'I am not.'

"The man continued to eye me rather suspiciously, and then went
slowly away. I suppose he hoped to be rewarded for me. I have told
you that I got rain. When I was proceeding to Huntly, as you are
aware, in the coach, there came two or three heavy gusts of wind
from the hills, carrying along with it a sort of soft drizzle, but
nothing like rain, and the roads appeared dry. After I had passed
Keith, however, the whole country had a drenched and draggled
appearance, the burns were swollen, the corn was hanging like wet
hair