My host was quite a young-looking man, with the clear blue eye and glowing complexion which one so often meets here; and his wife, with her blooming cheeks, neat dress, and well-kept house, was evidently one of those fully competent

  “To gar old claes look amaist as weel as new.”

I inquired the ages of the several children, to which the father answered with about as much chronological accuracy as men generally display in such points of family history.  The gude wife, after correcting his figures once or twice, turned away with a somewhat indignant exclamation about men that didn’t know their own bairns’ ages, in which many of us, I presume, could sympathize.

I must not omit to say, that a neighbor of our host had been pressed to come in with us; an intelligent-looking man, about fifty.  In the course of conversation, I found that they were both masons by trade, and as the rain had prevented their working, they had met to spend their time in reading.  They said they were reading a work on America; and thereat followed a good deal of general conversation on our country.  I found that, like many others in this old country, they had a tie to connect them with the new—­a son in America.

One of our company, in the course of the conversation, says, “They say in America that the working classes of England and Scotland are not so well off as the slaves.”  The man’s eye flashed.  “There are many things,” he said, “about the working classes, which are not what they should be; there’s room for a great deal of improvement in our condition, but,” he added with an emphasis, “we are no slaves!” There was a, touch, of the

  “Scots wha ha’ wi’ Wallace bled”

about the man, as he spoke, which made the affirmation quite unnecessary.

“But,” said I, “you think the affairs of the working classes much improved of late years?”

“O, certainly,” said the other; “since the repeal of the corn laws and the passage of the factory bill, and this emigration to America and Australia, affairs have been very much altered.”

We asked them what they could make a day by their trade.  It was much less, certainly, than is paid for the same labor in our country; but yet the air of comfort and respectability about the cottage, the well-clothed and well-schooled, intelligent children, spoke well for the result of their labors.

While our conversation was carried on, the teakettle commenced singing most melodiously, and by a mutual system of accommodation, a neat tea table was spread in the midst of us, and we soon found ourselves seated, enjoying some delicious bread and butter, with the garniture of cheese, preserves, and tea.  Our host before the meal craved a blessing of Him who had made of one blood all the families of the earth; a beautiful and touching allusion, I thought, between Americans and Scotchmen.  Our long ramble in the rain had given us something of an appetite, and we did ample justice to the excellence of the cheer.