I went in a boat
    To see John o’ Groat,
  The place where his home doth lie;
    But when I got there,
    The hill was all bare,
  And the devil a stone saw I.

The following entry also appeared in the Album:—­

Elihu Burrit of New Britain, Connecticut, U.S.  America, on a walk from Land’s End to John o’ Groat’s, arrived at Huna Inn, upon Monday Sep. 28th, 1863.  He visited the site of that famous domicile so celebrated in the world-wide legend for its ingenious construction to promote domestic happiness, and fully realised all he had anticipated in standing on a spot so rich with historical associations and surrounded with such grand and beautiful scenery.  He desires also to record his testimony to the hospitality and comfort of the cosy little sea-side Inn, where he was pleasantly housed for the night, and of which he will ever cherish an interesting remembrance.

Saturday, September 16th.

“Now for the shells!” exclaimed my brother, as we awoke early in the morning, for we expected to have a hard day’s work before we gathered shells enough to fill our large baskets.  So we hurried on with our breakfast, and then, shouldering our hampers, walked quickly along the beach to the place where we had been informed we should find them.  When we got there we saw a sight which surely could not have had its parallel in the British Isles, for the beach was white with them for the greater part of two miles.  We were greatly astonished, for in some places the beach was so thickly covered that, had we possessed a shovel, we could have filled both our baskets with shells in a very few minutes.  We decided therefore to select those best suited to our purpose, and we worked away until we had filled both our hampers.  We then carried them one at a time to the “Huna Inn,” and arranged with Mr. Mackenzie to have them carefully packed and delivered to the local carrier to be conveyed by road to the steamboat office at Wick, and thence forwarded by water to our home, where we knew their contents would be appreciated for rockery purposes.  The whole of our operations were completed by noon, instead of occupying the whole of the day as anticipated, for we had a great advantage in having such an enormous number of shells to select from.  Our host told us that farmers occasionally moved them by cart-loads to serve as lime manure on their land.  Their accumulation at that particular spot was a mystery which he could not explain beyond the fact that the shells were washed up from the Pentland Firth during the great storms; so we concluded that there must be a land of shell fish in or near that stormy deep, perhaps corresponding with that of the larger fish whose destruction we had seen represented in the Strata of Pomona in the Orkneys.

[Illustration:  ROCKS AT DUNCANSBAY.]