cher, Webster, and all the old authors. He can
quote verses by the page, and has really a very pretty literary taste.
Altogether, with all his roughness and buffoonery, a more pleasant,
clever fellow you may seldom see. I was very much surprised with him;
and he with me. "Where the devil did you read all these books?" says he;
and in my heart, I echo the question. One amusing thing I must say. We
were both talking about travelling; and I said I was so fond of
travelling alone, from the people one met and grew friendly with. "Ah,"
says he, "but you've such a pleasant manner, you know--quite captivated
my old woman, you did--she couldn't talk of anything else." Here was a
compliment, even in Sam Bough's sneering tones, that rather tickled my
vanity; and really, my social successes of the last few days, the best
of which is yet to come, are enough to turn anybody's head. To continue,
after a little go in with Samuel, he going up on the bridge, I looked
about me to see who there was; and mine eye lighted on two girls, one of
whom was sweet and pretty, talking to an old gentleman. "_Eh bien_,"
says I to myself, "that seems the best investment on board." So I sidled
up to the old gentleman, got into conversation with him and so with the
damsel; and thereupon, having used the patriarch as a ladder, I kicked
him down behind me. Who should my damsel prove, but Amy Sinclair,
daughter of Sir Tollemache. She certainly was the simplest, most naive
specimen of girlhood ever I saw. By getting brandy and biscuit and
generally coaching up her cousin, who was sick, I ingratiated myself;
and so kept her the whole way to Iona, taking her into the cave at
Staffa and generally making myself as gallant as possible. I was never
so much pleased with anything in my life, as her amusing absence of
_mauvaise honte_: she was so sorry I wasn't going on to Oban again:
didn't know how she could have enjoyed herself if I hadn't been there;
and was so sorry we hadn't met on the Crinan. When we came back from
Staffa, she and her aunt went down to have lunch; and a minute after up
comes Miss Amy to ask me if I wouldn't think better of it, and take some
lunch with them. I couldn't resist that, of course; so down I went; and
there she displayed the full extent of her innocence. I must be sure to
come to Thurso Castle the next time I was in Caithness, and Upper
Norwood (whence she would take me all over the Crystal Palace) when I
was near London; and (most com