the day's luncheons and dinners with Mistress
Brodie of the Pettybaw Inn and Posting Establishment, than go to the
opera.

Salemina and Francesca do not enjoy it all quite as intensely as I, so
they considerately give me the lion's share. Every morning, after an
exhilarating interview with the Niobe of our kitchen (who thinks me
irresponsible and prays Heaven in her heart I be no worse), I put on
my galoshes, take my umbrella, and trudge up and down the little
streets and lanes on real, and if need be, imaginary errands. The Duke
of Wellington said, "When fair in Scotland, always carry an umbrella;
when it rains, please yourself," and I sometimes agree with
Stevenson's shivering statement, "Life does not seem to me to be an
amusement adapted to this climate." I quoted this to the doctor
yesterday, but he remarked with some surprise that he had not missed a
day's golfing for weeks. The chemist observed as he handed me a cake
of soap, "Won'erful blest in weather, we are, mam," simply because,
the rain being unaccompanied with high wind, one was enabled to hold
up an umbrella without having it turned inside out. When it ceased
dripping for an hour at noon, the greengrocer said cheerily, "Another
grand day, mam!" I assented, though I could not for the life of me
remember when the last one occurred. However, dreary as the weather
may be, one cannot be dull when doing one's morning round of shopping
in Pettybaw or Strathdee. I have only to give you thumb-nail sketches
of our favorite tradespeople to convince you of that fact.

* * * * *

We bought our first groceries of Mrs. Robert Phin, of Strathdee,
simply because she is an inimitable conversationalist. She is
expansive, too, about family matters, and tells us certain of her
"mon's" faults which it would be more seemly to keep in the safe
shelter of her own bosom.

Rab takes a wee drappie too much, it appears, and takes it so often
that he has little time to earn an honest penny for his family. This
is bad enough; but the fact that Mrs. Phin has been twice wed before,
and that in each case she innocently chose a ne'er-do-weel for a mate,
makes her a trifle cynical. She told me that she had laid twa husbands
in the kirkyard near which her little shop stands, and added
cheerfully, as I made some sympathetic response, "An' I hope it'll no
be lang afore I box Rab!"

Salemina objects to the shop because it is so disorderly. Soap a