s of the peculiar traits of its mountain
population, which included presently their remarkable idiosyncrasies of
speech. When he was fairly launched on this theme, which was of genuine
interest to him, for he had long fostered a linguistic fad, all danger of
awkward silence or significant pauses was eliminated. He found that
Briscoe could furnish him with some fresh points in comparative
philology, to his surprise and gratification, for he never expected aught
bookish of his host. But like men of his type, Briscoe was a close
observer and learned of the passing phase of life. He took issue again
and again with the deductions of the traveller.

"You think it queer that they use 'you-uns' in the singular number? Then
why do you use '_you_' in the singular number? I haven't heard you
'thou-ing' around here this evening. Just as grammatical in that respect
as you are! And on the same principle, why do you say 'you were' to me
instead of 'you was,' which would be more singular--ha! ha! ha!"

"What _I_ think so curious is the double-barrelled pronouns themselves,
'you-uns' and 'we-uns.'" Mrs. Royston forced herself to take part in the
colloquy at the first opportunity.

"Not at all queer," Bayne promptly contended. "The correlatives of that
locution appear in other languages. The French has _nous autres_, the
Italian, _noi altri_, the Spanish, _nosotros_."

"And pray consider our own classical 'we-all,'" Mrs. Briscoe gayly
interposed, surprised that she could pluck up the spirit for this
interruption.

"More interesting to me is the survival in this sequestered region of old
English words and significations, altogether obsolete elsewhere,"
continued Bayne. "Now, when I asked the driver yesterday the name of a
very symmetrical eminence in the midst of the ranges he said it had no
name, that it was no mountain--it was just the 'moniment' of a little
ridge, meaning the image, the simulacrum. This is Spenser's usage."

"Look here, Julian," said Briscoe, rising suddenly, all his wonted
bluff self again, "if you fire off any more of your philologic wisdom
at us I'll throw you over the cliff. We are skilled in the _use_ of
words--honest, straight talk--not their dissection. I want to get at
something that we can all enjoy. Tune this violin and come and play some
of those lovely old things that you and Gladys used to practise
together."

"Yes, yes, indeed," exclaimed Mrs. Briscoe cordially, and, rising
promptly, she approache