) of my palette."

"More likely to make a mess of it," said Junkie.

"Now, are you ready? Steady! Don't budge a finger," cried Archie,
removing the little leather cap.

In her uncertainty as to which of her fingers she was not to budge, Flo
nervously moved them all.

"You're movin', Flo!" whispered Junkie.

"No, I'm not," said Flo, looking round indignantly.

"There, I knew you couldn't hold your tongue, Junkie," cried the
photographer, hastily replacing the cap. "However, I think I had it
done before she moved."

"And look--you've got the nigger in!" cried Junkie, snatching up the
black doll, which had been lying unobserved on its owner's knee all the
time.

"Never mind, that'll do no harm. Now, then, soldiers, form up, an'
quick march," said Archie, closing up his apparatus. "We have got
plenty of work before us, and no time to waste."

Obedient to this rather inaccurately given word of command, Archie's
troops fell into line, and, with a whooping farewell, continued their
march up the glen.

During the remainder of that beautiful afternoon, the artist and pupil
continued at their "fascinating" work. Shall we take advantage of our
knowledge to lift the curtain, and tell in detail how Milly introduced a
few more megatheriums into her painting, and violated nearly all the
rules of perspective, to say nothing of colour and chiaro-oscuro? Shall
we reveal the multitude of absurd remarks made by the pupil, in his wild
attempts at criticism of an art, about which he knew next to nothing?
No; it would be unwarrantable--base! Merely remarking that painter and
pupil were exceedingly happy, and that they made no advance whatever in
the art of painting, we turn to another scene in the neighbourhood of
Kinlossie House.

It was a wide grass-field from which the haycocks had recently been
removed, leaving it bare and uninteresting. Nevertheless, there were
two points of interest in that field which merit special attention. One
was a small black bull, with magnificent horns, the shaggiest of coats,
and the wickedest of eyes. The other was our friend MacRummle, taking a
short cut through the field, with a basket on his back, a rod in one
hand, and an umbrella in the other.

We may at once account for the strange presence of the latter article,
by explaining that, on the day before--which was rainy--the laird, had
with an umbrella, accompanied his friend to his first pool in the river,
at which point their ro