“This is Saturday and I am very glad of it because I have play half the Day and I get money too but alas I owe Isabella 4 pence for I am finned 2 pence whenever I bite my nails.  Isabella is teaching me to make simmecoling nots of interrigations peorids commoes, etc....  As this is Sunday I will meditate upon Senciable and Religious subjects.  First I should be very thankful I am not a beggar.”

This amount of meditation and thankfulness seems to have been all she was able for.

“I am going to-morrow to a delightfull place, Braehead by name, belonging to Mrs. Crraford, where there is ducks cocks hens bubblyjocks 2 dogs 2 cats and swine which is delightful.  I think it is shocking to think that the dog and cat should bear them” (this is a meditation physiological) “and they are drowned after all.  I would rather have a man-dog than a woman-dog, because they do not bear like woman-dogs; it is a hard case—­it is shocking.  I came here to enjoy natures delightful breath it is sweeter than a fial of rose oil.”

Braehead is the farm the historical Jock Howison asked and got from our gay James the Fifth, “the gudeman o’ Ballengiech,” as a reward for the services of his flail when the King had the worst of it at Cramond Brig with the gipsies.  The farm is unchanged in size from that time, and still in the unbroken line of the ready and victorious thrasher.  Braehead is held on the condition of the possessor being ready to present the King with a ewer and basin to wash his hands, Jock having done this for his unknown king after the splore; and when George the Fourth came to Edinburgh, this ceremony was performed in silver at Holyrood.

It is a lovely neuk, this Braehead, preserved almost as it was two hundred years ago.  “Lot and his wife,” mentioned by Maidie,—­two quaintly cropped yew-trees,—­still thrive; the burn runs as it did in her time, and sings the same quiet tune,—­as much the same and as different as Now and Then.  The house is full of old family relics and pictures, the sun shining on them through the small deep windows with their plate-glass; and there, blinking at the sun and chattering contentedly, is a parrot, that might, for its looks of eld, have been in the ark, and domineered over and deaved the dove.  Everything about the place is old and fresh.

This is beautiful:—­“I am very sorry to say that I forgot God—­that is to say I forgot to pray to-day and Isabella told me that I should be thankful that God did not forget me—­if he did, O what would become of me if I was in danger and God not friends with me—­I must go to unquenchable fire and if I was tempted to sin—­how could I resist it O no I will never do it again—­no no—­if I can help it.” (Canny wee wifie!) “My religion is greatly falling off because I dont pray with so much attention when I am saying my prayers, and my charecter is lost among the Braehead people.  I hope I will be religious again—­but as for regaining my charecter I despare for it.” [Poor little “habit and repute"!]