Ardtaraig

as upon the boys, who, like their sisters, were afterwards drafted off to school or college, as might be. It is doubtful if the most advanced code of modern education is built upon better lines than were followed out in this remote Highland home during the early years of the nineteenth century. Every faculty, physical as well as mental, was freely developed, and ample scope afforded for the exercise of individuality and originality; consequently, there followed an abundant supply of both. Most of the creature comforts their own home provided for them the loch gave them white fish and herring, not omitting some good oyster-beds; the river, salmon and burn-trout; the hills afforded mutton, lamb, and game; the farm, milk, cream, butter, cheese, eggs, poultry of all sorts, from the lordly turkey to the smallest bantam; the garden yielded “all manner of fruits,” flowers, and vegetables. Foreign produce they had of course to buy, but little else, except was. Beef, flour, meal, barley, all came from their own resources; even “the lights that shone” at night were of home manufacture, and well do I remember the lively candle-making days. The girls had pretty spinning wheels, and spun their own wool, knitted stockings, etc., and even attempted to make leather gloves. With all this homely domestic training their minds, as I have said, were well equipped. My mother, for one, had more than a smattering of Latin; they were well versed in the classics and mythology, and had, as children, a quaint way of giving Greek and Latin names to homely everyday places and things. Ancient Greece and Rome were thus familiar hunting-grounds to them all. I also know, from personal experience, that mammas knowledge of geography, or what was termed “the use of the globes,” was considerable; as also of that “dread science” astronomy, which was to her something of a passion. I have known her sit up half the night watching the stars; moreover, she knew what she was looking at, movements, names, locations, etc. The comet of the fifties, the star-shower of the sixties, were both eagerly watched, and to see the latter, my father and I were roused from sleep in the small hours. At such times she knew no weariness. As to the globes, she would sadly lament because we had no celestial globe, but fortunately, we had a good terrestrial one, on which she diligently taught me, made me work out problems, learn the signs of the Zodiac, etc. Though I say all this about my own mother, I have no doubt the others of the sisterhood were equally well-informed; they had had the same opportunities, and were all endowed with good capacities. At the same time, it must be said that none of the Ardtarig womenfolk ever cared openly to pose as learned ladies. Indeed, they one and all possessed to the full the old-fashioned idea that to “pose” in any way was undesirable and unfeminine.
The waterfall kept on its way, and the busy household toiled along. The years and the children increased; till, at last, as I have elsewhere noted, six sons and nine daughters were born within the old home-stead. Two little girls, the first Grace and Margaret, died young; fair-haired little things, whom their mother was wont to recall, as she had last seen them in health, running hand in hand, their hair streaming in the breeze. Poor little aunties! Only gone awhile before the others, and saved, ah, who can tell how much sorrow! I think they were buried in Inverchaolain Churchyard. Mamma, who, in her girlhood, after the romping day’s were over, became rather of a dreamy turn, has told me that she loved to sit amongst the graves in that quiet spot listening to the leaves rustling overhead, and wishing, with the tender sentiment of early youth, that some day she might be buried there. When the shadows of a long life did gather around her, I ventured, one day, to ask if such was still her wish. She smiled and said, “Oh no! wherever most convenient – in some quiet corner.”

After the passing of these little ones there was a long interval. The next to die was Uncle Duncan – the first-born, the mother’s darling. This was no common sorrow, and great was the sympathy felt and expressed by all the countryside for the bereaved parents. He was, by common consent, a fine fellow, and no better, more dutiful son ever lived. He had early gone to India, having entered the Army, and when he died was Captain in the 12th Regiment, Indian Native Infantry, and had, shortly before, to his great satisfaction, been appointed Hindustanee Interpreter to the Regiment. He fell a victim to fever at the opening of his career, with bright prospects before him, and possessing the respect and esteem of all his brother officers. Ever a most dutiful son, his home letters, even in those days of slow transit, were long and frequent. Some of these letters, written in high health and spirits, arrived after the news of his