the mount, on which stands the monument to the late Monaltrie. Well, there, just as you come in sight of the village, is the Stile of Tullich. The first "jine" so rejoiced the hearts of the company, that, belyve, a second, third, and fourth came off in quick succession, and with all "eclat." "Jines" became the order of the day. And aye the ale was getting better; and, well I wot, the company cantier, vauntier, ay, and friskier. Philosophers -I am none, thank heaven-will explain how " gude ale keeps the heart abune"-how it lightens the heels as well as the head, and even how it reverses the commmon standing of mortals. The "gude ale" had its usual effects at the Kirk of Tullich, and a little shuffling led naturally to the heel-and-toe, and the back step, and countless other steps, and those again to twirling, and wheeling, and side-cutting, till it was dizzying to look on. Hae mercy on us! men must live, ay, and even women. And why, it was only to keep the heat in-" peskily" cold it was that Sunday, depend upon it. Now, once set a-dancing, they thought it as well to dance in orderly manner as not, so they would have a head-set or reel. A musician was wanted; but Tullich, ever "fertile in fiddlers," soon supplied the want; and then, having placed sentinels to give the alarm should the parson enter an appearance, at it they went with a will, and kept it up with high, higher, and highest glee.

You should have heard the old kirk ring with the whoops and hurrahs, the clapping of hands and snapping of fingers, and the laughing, and whistling, and the music-yes, that was the music. The fiddler had caught the infection-when ever are they the extinguishers of mirth or jollity?—perhaps-perhaps did I say, put it down for certain, and sure, and true he had partaken of a sprinkling of the proceeds of the "jines." His bow danced, galloped, whirled, flew, and jumped on the strings. And still the splore grew more uproarious.

A cobbler ascended the pulpit and held forth with an energy worthy of Knox. Two weavers and three tailors installed themselves as elders, and some couples of pretended defaulters were immediately sessioned; meantime the blacksmith had taken the precentor's desk, and was trolling forth that "gude and godly ballad:"

"John, come kiss me now,

John, come kiss me now,
John, come kiss me by-and-by,
And mak nae mair adow."

And wilder still became the dance, faster the fiddler drew his bow, louder from the pulpit thundered the cobbler, more unearthly roared the blacksmith, and the session-" tell it not in Gath" -till the kirk could contain them no longer, and a

number of couples scrambled up on the thatched roof of the edifice and madly danced,

"Owre the kirk, and owre the kirk,

And owre the kirk to Ballater."

Or as the Gaelic song says

*

*

Inspired, excited, in a frenzy, the fiddler who officiated, then improvised the "Reel of Tullich."

It is said that eighteen pairs of Ritchies were present on that occasion; but-and it was thought a punishment of the profanation that day next year every one of them lay in the "mools."

John, the Black Colonel, on his way to Aboyne, came on his Tullich lads thus employed, and, exclaiming with Hannibal, "Robura virorum cerno; or in English, "I see they are regular bricks," ended the affair with a blow-out at the changehouse.

On his way home again, John learned at Tullich the real truth concerning the poinding of his tenants' cattle by Brachlie, and also what the baron had said respecting himself at the time. The earl, in regard to these doings, had exaggerated greatly to provoke John's wrath against the baron. But it was very plain he desired the "spulzie" of Brachlie's lands, and that by nothing less would the right of the Easter Morven moss be obtained. The Black Colonel had a bit of cunning in him, as well as Aboyne. He sent notice to Brachlie that, on a certain day, the Inverey lads, with himself at their head would come down and drive away all the Glen Muick cattle, explaining at the same time the why and the wherefore; "but," added he, "make no resistance, you shall have all safe back again, horn and hoof, in a week." He would thus obtain the muchneeded right of fuel for the Tullich estate, and injure nobody. But

"The best-laid schemes of men and mice
Gang aft agley."

So when John returned from the wars,

"Powder and steel!" quoth he, "we had best drive away those Glen Muick folks' cattle now we're all together, and pepper the redcoats, who, I hear, are coming up the river to pay us a visit."

John had not, like most of the Highland chiefs, made his submission after Killiecrankie, and it was intended to fry him

and his family alive in Inverey Castle. Notice of this kindly intention was sent to Inverey by some of his well-wishers from Aberdeen. Some thousand soldiers, under the command of Colonel Cunningham, were then marching up Deeside to execute this benevolent purpose.

66 Targets and battleaxes," exclaimed M'Dougall his henchman, we could not do better."

Lewis of Auchindryne was elected major in place of Charles of Balmoral, disabled by the wounds he had received at Killiecrankie, and John of Allancuaich took his place as captain. From the assembled clan the colonel chose twelve of the best men to proceed with himself to Glen Muick. Major Lewis was directed to march the body of their forces, and, occupying some position below Tullich, resist the advance of Colonel Cunningham.

They were the most vicious wasps, those Gordons of Glen Muick, you ever had buzzing about your ears. Worse still, Peggy Fraser had seen Inverey frequently, and, many say, thought a good deal more of him than of her liege lord. But I hope Inverey couldn't help that. Well, then, Lewis of Auchindryne marched away to oppose the redcoats and Inverey—well, you have the ballad.

"Inverey came down Deeside whistlin' and playin',

He was at brave Brackley's yetts ere it was dawin'.

He rappit fu' loudlie, and wi' a great roar,

Cried, Come down now, Brackley, and open the door—

'Are ye sleepin', Barrone, or are ye waukin'?

There's sharp swords at your yett will gar your blood spin!'

Out spake the brave Barrone, ower the castle wa',
'Are ye come to harry and spuilzie my ha'?

'O, gin ye be gentlemen, licht and come in,

7 Gin ye drink o' my wine ye'll nae gar my blood spin;
'Gin ye be hired widdifus, ye may gang by-
Gang down to the Lowlands and steal their fat kye;
'There spuilzie like reivers of wild kateran clan,
And harry unsparing baith houses an' lan'.

'But gin ye be gentlemen, licht and come in,
There's meat and drink in my ha' for ilka man.'
Out spake his ladye, at his back where she lay,
'Get up, get up, Brackley, and face Inverey.

'Get up, get up, Brackley, and turn back your kye,
Or they'll hae them to the Highlands, and you they'll defy.'
'Now, haud your tongue, Catherine, and still my young son,
For yon same hired widdifus will prove themselves men.'
'There's four-and-twenty milk-white nowt, twal o' them kye,
In the woods of Glen Tanner, it's there that they lie.

'There are goats on the Etnach, and sheep on the brae, And a' will be harried by young Inverey.

'Gin I had a husband, whereas I hae nane,

He wadna lye in his bed and see his kye tane.

'Sae rise up, John,' said she, and turn back your kye, Or me and my maidens, we will them defy.'

She called to her maidens, and bade them come in, 'Tak' a' your rocks, lasses, we will them comman'; 'We'll fetch them, and shortly the cowards will fly, So come forth, my maidens, and turn back the kye.' 'Now haud your tongue, Catherine, and bring me my gun, I am now going forth, but I'll never come in.

Call my brother, William-my uncle also

My cousin, James Gordon--we'll mount and we'll go.'

When Brackley was buskit and stood in the close,
A gallanter Barrone ne'er lap on a horse;

When they were assembled on the Castle green,
Nae man like brave Brackley was there to be seen.

'Strike dogs,' cries Inverey, and fecht till ye're slain,
For we are twice twenty, and ye but four men.'
At the head o' Rineatan the battle began,

At Little Aucholzie they killed the first man.

They killed William Gordon, and James o' the Knock,
And brave Alexander, the flower o' Glen Muick.

First they killed ane, and syne they killed twa,
They hae killed gallant Brackley the flower o' them a';
Wi' swords, and wi' daggers they did him surround,
And they pierced bonny Brackley wi' mony a wound.
Then up came Craigievar an' a party wi' him,
Had he come ane hour sooner Brackley hadna been slain.
Cam' ye by Brackley, and was in there,
Or saw ye his ladye was makin' great care?

ye

Yes, I cam' by Brackley, and I was in there,
And there saw his ladye was braidin' her hair;
She was rantin', and dancin', and singing for joy,
And vowin' that night she would feast Inverey.
She eat wi' him, drank wi' him, welcomed him in-
She drank to the villain that killed her Barrone.
Wae to you, Kate Fraser, sad may your heart be
To see your brave Barrone's blood come to your knee.
She kept him till mornin', then bade him be gane,
And showed him the road that he mightna be ta'en.
'Thro' Birse and Aboyne,' she said, 'fly, and out o'er
A' the hills o' Glen Tanner ye'll skip in an hour.'
Up spake her young son on the nourice's knee,
'Gin I'll live to manhood, revenged I'll be.'

There's dool in the kitchen, and mirth in the ha'—
The Barrone o' Brackley is dead and awa.
What sichin' and sobbin' was heard i' the glen,
For the Barrone o' Brackley, wha basely was slain.
Frae the head o' the Dee, to the banks o' the Spey,
The Gordons may mourn him, and ban Inverey."

To explain, you will perceive that the ballad mixes up the incidents of the murder of one baron, and the slaughter of the rest of his relations in 1592, by the M'Intoshes and Lamonts, as narrated in the legend of Donald of Castletown, with those of this affray in which unhappily fell the baron, who figures in the present story. The sad affair happened thus. With his twelve chosen followers, Inverey, as he had warned Brachlie, gathered the flocks and herds of Glen Muick, intending to drive them away for some days, and then to return them quietly back again. By this he hoped to obtain for his Tullich tenants the right of the Easter Morven moss. But the baron's lady goaded on her husband-they say she was tired of him-to resent the indignity. His relations and friends-they perhaps did not know the reasons for the sham cattle-lifting, nor how it was to terminate-joined in the clamour to be led against Inverey; and what must be, must be. They came on the Farquharsons "at the head o' Etnich." Inverey, astonished, called to the Baron's remembrance his former explanations, again assuring him that all would be returned in a week. A dispute ensued, the Gordons clamouring outrageously. One of them, at length, mad with passion, fired on the Inverey lads. That was enough, and more than enough. The swords flashed in the air, a few musquetoons volleyed forth, a wild cry of rage rent the air, and they rushed at each other like tigers. By chance the Baron and Inverey_met. After a few passes, the latter gave back some steps. In so doing, the wind caught his plaid and unfurled it from his shoulders down among his feet. While thus entangled, the Baron pressed hard upon him. To move was to fall-to fall, death. As he stood thus, defending himself desperately, one of the clan perceived the danger, and exclaimed,- Help! the chief, the chief!" M'Dougall, his henchman, who had at that moment despatched one of the Gordons with a slash of his claymore, seized the fallen man's gun, and immediately shot the Baron. Thereupon the Gordons fled.

After seeing the hership safely part of the way to Braemar, the Colonel returned with the rest of his followers through Glen Muick. The baron's lady very unnaturally invited him to pass the night at Brachlie, where they kept it up in great style, as the ballad tells you, till morning. Well, what can you expect of the sex ?