no earthly advantage would induce them to disclose the nature of it.

He was called to see a darling child, in a house near Gairnsheil, at one time. The boy was evidently dying.

"Ah! um! Do you give him plenty of milk-meat?" asked he, as if thinking there had been woful neglect in this.

"Well, well, I am very sure he never wants for that," answered the mother.

"Ay, um! but when ye churn," cross-examining with an air of doubt, "ye do not give him a 'fuarag' of the cream?"

"As sure as death, Mr Farquharson," was returned, "I never mak butter but he gets a good 'fuarag' out of the churn."

"Just so, goodwife," concluded the physician. “Well, you just buy his winding-sheet with the butter, for you have irretrievably destroyed your child's digestion with so many good 'fuarags.' See that you be more careful with the rest of your bairns."

Examining, on another occasion, the condition of a woman after childbirth, on Gairnside, he was afraid that some hurtful drink had been forced on her.

"Ye did not," inquired he, as if he thought it the sovereignest remedy on the globe, "give your wife a fat drink?"

"Deed I wot, well, I am sure I did that. I went to the hill, brought home and killed the fattest wether I had, and she has had the bree of the best of it."

"Ay, ay, did ye, man?" was the answer. "Well, ye may e'en keep the worst of it for the funeral dinner, for ye have just killed your wife.”

The father's mode of treatment at times accorded not with the good people's ideas of doctoring, however skilful he was allowed to be. He was one day coming through Glen Shee, and was prayed to turn aside and give his advice about a certain farmer's wife, then very ill, whom they designed to send to some watering town, that she might try the effects of seabathing.

"Hum! Fergus," quoth the Jesuit, "I would strongly counsel you to put a burden of stones on her back, and drive her hard to the highest pinnacle of Ben Ghuilbinne."

This barbarous advice procured his speedy dismissal without fee. The good wife, as had been intended, was sent to the seaside, where she died in a few days.

"Oh! Father Charles," asked some of his Braemar acquaintances, "what kind of advice was that you gave about Fergus Findlay's wife-to carry a load of stones to the top of Ben Ghuilbinne?"

"If they had tried it, she would be Fergus Findlay's wife to

day. She had a boil in the inside, which would have been broken by the exertion in all probability. But she went to the sea-side, and that sent her galloping the way she was going."

Whatever may be the opinion of the faculty as to Father Charles's modes of procedure, it is certain that he was very successful in his treatment I shall only speak of one case of a malady that is still always fatal.

A gamekeeper of Lord Fife's, of the name of Munro, had a cancer in the upper-lip. He went to Edinburgh to consult the most skilful doctors, but without avail. When the lip had been eaten away as far as the nose, the case was submitted to Father Charles. He simply prescribed a potion made up by himself, and, without any outward application-without any surgical operation—that alone effected a cure. The man lived

a long time afterwards, though he had a peculiarly grim look from the want of his upper lip. He died in 1832.

While he drove over the country in his double capacity, he had various adventures as will happen with travellers.

Who that has journeyed afar and never felt that condition of purse, most grievous to the feelings, in which coin nor clinks nor jingles therein; not, Father Charles, of the Society of Jesus? Indeed, we have reason to believe that the superabundance of coin troubled him not. In a cleared-out state of pocket, he had to solicit the favour of a passage of the Dee from a Protestant ferryman.

"I have neither, my good lad," said he, "plack nor penny; but you are a young man, and I will give you an advice that will serve in as good stead as either, and that is, that you ought never to marry a widow's only daughter, a chatter-box, or a dandy."

At the time I now speak of, the Duffs had acquired the greater part of their Braemar estate. They were rigorous in putting down poaching; but in spite of their utmost endeavours, poaching abounded on their best moors and in their finest forests. The Earl of Fife, wishing to enlist Father Charles in the cause, and sure that his advice would do much with the people, determined on paying him a visit to talk over the matter. He went over to the Ardearg accordingly, and found the priest busy in raising a bulwark to keep the Dee off his little croft.

"How is all to-day, Mr Farquharson?" was his lordship's salute.

"I hope I see your lordship well," replied his reverence. “I am busy at work, you see."

"Well, I have come to ask a favour. I wish to dine with you to-day, if you would allow me that honour."

"With great pleasure; but permit me to go and inform my housekeeper."

"No, no, sir," returned the earl, "he who invites himself must take pot luck."

Father Charles, if it had been possible, would have ordered a haunch of venison making ready that day to be set aside, and some substitute served, as the history of the haunch might not prove very satisfactory. What would he have thought had he known the errand that brought the earl to his house? Well, in due time they sat down to dinner, and in due time the haunch made its appearance.

"What!" exclaimed the astonished nobleman, "how comes this to your table?”

"Well, when any one," returned the Reverend, "comes to my house with his arm supporting any present, I never inquire what it encircles."

"Quite right," returned his lordship, changing his tone," and when a man invites himself to dine, he has little right to inquire how the good things on the table came there."

Of a verity, whom do you consider able to overcome a Jesuit! Not the earl, at all events, for he went home again without mentioning the cause of his visit.

The long staff, with round head of horn, that served to pilot Father Charles through the wilds of Glengairn and Braemar, may yet be seen in Auchindryne.

And we have again this record on the priest's gravestone in Castletown churchyard:

"The Rev. Charles Farquharson served the Catholic mission for many years, and died at Ardearg, 30 Nov. 1799."

The Earl of Fife met the funeral train as they came down the road. He dismounted immediately, and, taking off his hat,

"I wish to God," said he, "I were such as he was; I would willingly lie where he does."

There were others, besides, who believed that Father Charles wore that day a coronet brighter and fairer than any earl in Scotland.

And so passed away the great men of a great generation.

A change comes over the spirit of my dream. It is proper that I record how the old families whose deeds have been our theme wore all away, and how others have come into their place, and our task may be considered as ended. Were we to proceed further, we might be considered partial and unfair in our narration, and perhaps it would be desirable to let "byganes be byganes" in very many instances.

To go back a little. After the sequestration of the Mar

family's estate, it fell to Lords Dun and Grange to dispose of the property and rights. An offer was made to the proprietors of Deeside above Culbleen that each, after the lands were disposed of, as mentioned in the "Legend of the Invereys," should buy up the feudal rights of the lord superior over their different holdings, and pay in all, between them, for these, the sum of £1000. A meeting of the lairds was called at Pannanich Lodge, to take the offer into consideration, and, if they should decide on accepting it, to assign what proportion of the sum each should have to pay.

The lairds ended their deliberations by refusing the offer, and Duff of Braco became the purchaser. The proprietors had a right to every third tree on their estate, to the whole pasture, divots, and peats. They were hereditary foresters, and, therefore, allowed to carry arms and kill game. The military service, and the small tribute of money, as an acknowledgment of superiority, when the lands changed hands, were matters of little moment. Braco probably thought that he had a better bargain than it proved at first. He came shortly after his purchase to Braemar with a number of workmen, resolved to make the best of his woods. Looking about, he determined to begin in Glencuaich. Allancuaich accompanied the woodmen through the glen, and saved every third of the tall gigantic pines from their hatchets as he had a right to do. When they had cut down some sixty the question was, how can they be got to the Dee for manufacture?

"Ay, ay, Braco," says Allancuaich, "there is your wood, shoulder it and away ye go; but, mark you, I won't allow earth to be broken on my land or my pasture to be destroyed. Do you it, therefore, at your peril, and meanwhile there is an interdict."

It was no joke. Duff of Braco felt put out; cursed his own stupidity, damned his lord superiorship, and wished Lords Dun and Grange judges to a very dark-complexioned majesty; but that altered nothing in his bargain, so he sneaked away home again. After mature reflection, a bright idea struck him. He began paying monthly visits to Braemar, and lodged in the Tigh-Geal-the white house of Castletown. And Duff began to shine as a choice spirit, easy to do with, merry, gay, ay jolly. He brought a few nice presents for the Braemar people with him. He won his way. Allancuaich's wife and daughters were always particularly well remembered; even the old laird was forgiven his interdict, and as token of "gude 'greement," he was prevailed on to accept some trifling little favour. That was a good beginning. Presents increased, good fellowship prospered, friendship began. Presents redoubled. You would

not find Duff of Braco now at the Tigh-Geal, when he came to Braemar; but you might very likely find him every day at Allancuaich, and very surely every night. The Allancuaichs began to make a show in the country; they appeared puffed up; they got a taste for finery. They went on in a famous style of living. The old house didn't seem the right thing now; bless you, they were above that. A new house was planned on the Haugh, and set about at once. But at last the funds got low. Well, what of that? a good friend was ready to show the way out of difficulty. "The rents, sir, will soon come in; all right; build away. Ah! by the by, mighty good bargains your tenants have. Suppose you screwed them up just a tiny bit; at least till your house be finished." Well, the rents came in. The tenants were screwed up just the tiniest bit, and the building went on, and the funds always got lower. The tenants, indeed, looked very surly; they cast woful looks on the laird; they never met the lady or misses with a cheerie smile: but never mind. The other Braemar lairds began to shake their heads. But Duff of Braco's smile outshone the morning sun. What reck, that did not hinder the lady from hearing the herds as they took the cattle to the hill, continually mention the laird's cow. There was a bra' house rising up truly, yet the laird had but one cow. "This will never do," said the lady. “Let us buy another, that people may say the laird's cows.' me! it had come to this. Well, never mind. Duff of Braco is accommodating-he has such a long purse, you might shove your arm in to the elbow, were it not too well crammed to allow it to go down; and loans are very convenient. Things went on again. The herds, perhaps, spoke of the laird's cows; at all events, the house-grand to look at-was finished. Loans, convenient as they are, cost something very little indeed-your name to some small bit paper; and Braco had very many specimens of Allancuaich's autographs-autographs to the value of £2000 sterling. And now came the time that he was in great need of money; but not the time that the coming in of the rents or the screwing up of the tenants had filled Allancuaich's purse to meet his demands. He was reasonable, however; no poinding, no rouping. Just you step out of the bra' house, and I will step in; and so it was. Poor Allancuaich went away, and

Woe's

hid his misfortunes in distant lands. A saw mill was soon established on the Cuaich. Fast fell the noble forest of the glen, and none to save every third tree from ruin; the earth of the glen was broken, and there was no one to serve an interdict.

Time wore on. Duff of Braco was chief with Dalmorechiefer with Inverey. Many a good turn he did for both; but his right hand never knew what his left gave away; no more