'Both mongrel, puppy, whelp and hound, all open-mouthed and vociferous. “In a little while, the lord of the castle' himself made his appearance. I knew him at once, by the descriptions I had read and heard, and the likenesses that had been published of him. He was tall, and of a large and powerful frame. His dress was simple and almost rustic,-an old green shooting-coat, with a dog whistle at the button-hole, brown linen pantaloons, stout shoes that tied at the ankles, and a white hat that had evidently seen service. He came limping up the gravel walk, aiding himself by a stout walking-staff, but moving rapidly and with vigor. By his side jogged along a large iron-gray stag-hound, of a most grave demeanor, who took no part in the clamor of the canine rabble, but seemed to consider himself bound, for the dignity of the house, to give me a hearty reception. 66 Before Scott had reached the gate, he called out, in a hearty tone, welcoming me to Abbotsford, and asking news of Campbell. Arrived at the door of the chaise, he grasped me warmly by the hand. 'Come, drive down, drive down to the house,' he said; 'ye're just in time for breakfast, and afterwards shall see all the wonders of the Abbey.' I would have excused myself, on the plea of having just had my breakfast. " Hout man,' cried he, 'a ride in the morning, in the keen air of the Scotch hills, is warrant enough for a second breakfast.' "I was accordingly whirled to the portal, and in a few moments, found myself seated at the breakfast table. There was no one present but the family, which consisted of Mrs. Scott, her eldest daughter Sophia,* then a fine girl about seventeen; Miss Ann Scott, two or three years younger; Walter, a wellgrown strippling; and Charles, a lively boy, eleven or twelve years of age. "After breakfast, Scott proposed a ramble, to show me something of the surrounding country. As we sallied forth, every dog in the establishment turned out to attend us. There was the old stag-hound, Maida, that deserves to be mentioned as a noble animal, and a great favorite of Scott's; and Hamlet, the black greyhound, a wild, thoughtless youngster, not yet arrived at the years of discretion; and Finette, a beautiful setter, with soft, silken hair, long pendant ears, and a mild eye,-the parlor favorite. When in front of the house, we were joined by a superannuated greyhound, who came from the kitchen, wagging his tail, and was cheered by Scott, as an old friend and comrade. "We rambled on among the scenes which had been familiar in Scottish song, and rendered classic by the pastoral muse, long before Scott had thrown the rich mantle of his poetry over them. What a thrill of pleasure did I feel when first I saw the broom-covered tops of the Cowden Knowes, peeping above the gray hills of the Tweed; and what touching associations were called up by the sight of Ett *Sophia was married to Mr. Lockhart, but she, with Charles and Ann, are dead. Walter, who holds a commission in the army, is now Sir Walter, (1843.) rick Vale, Galawater and the Braes of Yarrow! Every turn brought to mind some household air— some almost forgotten song of the nursery, by which I had been lulled to sleep in my childhood, and with them, the looks and voices of those who had sung them, and who were now no more. "I found Scott was quite an enthusiast on the subject of the popular songs of his country, and he seemed gratified to find me so alive to them. Their effect, in calling up in my mind the recollections of early times and scenes in which I had first heard them, reminded him, he said of the lines of his poor friend Leyden, to the Scottish muse: 'In youth's first morn, alert and gay, Sweet sounds! that oft have soothed to rest The sorrows of my guileless breast, And charmed away mine infant tears; That on the wild the traveller hears.' "Our ramble took us on the hills, commanding an extensive prospect. Now,' said Scott, I have brought you, like the pilgrim in the Pilgrim's Progress, to the top of the Delectable Mountains, that I may show you all the goodly regions thereabouts. Yonder is Lammermuir and Smalholme; and there you have Galashiels, and Torwoodlee and Galawa ter; and in that direction you see Teviotdale and the Braes of Yarrow; and Ettrick Stream, winding along like a silver thread, to throw itself into the Tweed.' "He went on thus to call over names celebrated in Scottish song, and most of which had recently received a romantic interest from his own pen. In fact, I saw a great part of the border country spread out before me, and could trace the scenes of those poems and romances, which had, in a manner, bewitched the world. I gazed about me for a time, with mute surprise,-I may almost say with disappointment. I beheld a mere succession of gray waving hills, line beyond line, as far as my eye could reach; monotonous in their aspect, and so destitute of trees, that one could almost see a stout fly walking along their profile; and the far-famed Tweed appeared a naked stream, flowing between bare hills, without a tree or a thicket on its banks; and yet, such had been the magic web of poetry and romance thrown over the whole, that it had a greater charm for me than the richest scenery I beheld in England. "I could not help giving utterance to my thoughts. Scott hummed for a moment to himself, and looked grave; he had no idea of having his muse complimented at the expense of his native hills. 'It may be partiality,' said he, at length; but to my eye, these gray hills, and all this wild border country, have beauties peculiar to themselves. I like the very nakedness of the land; it has something bold, and stern, and solitary about it. When I have been for some time in the rich scenery about Edinburgh, which is like ornamented garden-land, I begin to wish myself back again among my own honest gray hills; and heather, at least once a year, I The last words were said with if I did not see the think I should die!' an honest warmth, accompanied by a thump on the ground with his staff, by way of emphasis, that showed his heart was in his speech. "We had not walked much further before we saw the two Miss Scotts advancing along the hill-side to meet us. The morning studies being over, they had set off to take a ramble on the hills, and gather heather blossoms, with which to decorate their hair for dinner. As they came bounding lightly, like young fawns, and their dresses fluttering in the pure summer breeze, I was reminded of Scott's own description of his children in his introduction to one of the cantos to Marmion: 'My imps, though hardy, bold and wild, Yes, prattlers, yes, the daisy's flower And while you frolic light as they, Too short shall seem the summer day.' "As they approached, the dogs all sprang forward and gambolled around them. They played with |