She returns again to the subject of Miss Potune in her diary, into which we shall now be privileged to peep. “Miss Potune is very fat, she pretends to be very learned, she says she saw a stone that dropt from the skies, but she is a good Christian.” (The sequence of thought is not particularly apparent, but we begin to follow with more confidence in the next “lap,” starting with “Christian.”) “An annababtist is a thing I am not a member of; I am a Pisplikan just now and a Prisbeteren at Kercaldy, my native town, which though dirty is clein in the country; sentiment is what I am not acquainted with, though I wish it and should like to pratise it. I wish I had a great deal of gratitude in my heart and in all my body. The English have great power over the french; Ah me per adventure at this moment some noble Colnel at this moment sinks to the ground without breath; and in convulsive pangs dies; it is a melancholy consideration.” Cousin Isabella had the little maid for a bedfellow, and we get some funny glimpses of what she had to endure from that arrangement. “I’ve slept with Isabella, but she cannot sleep with me. I’m so very restless. I danced over her legs in the morning and she cried ‘Oh! dear, you mad girl, Madgie,’ for she was very sleepy.”—(Oh! those little “Early wide-awakes!” Which of us who have been wakened by them at four o’clock in the morning will not sympathise with poor Isa Keith?) “Every morn I awake before Isa, and oh I wish to be up and out with the larkies, but I must take care of Isa, who when aslipe is as beautiful as Viness and Jupiter in the sky.” On a later occasion Marjorie records: “I went into Isabella’s bed to make her smile like the Genius Demedicus, or the statute in ancient Greece, but she fell asleep in my very face, at which my anger broke forth, so that I awoke her from a very comfortable nap. All was now hushed up, but my anger again burst forth at her bidding me get up.” Finally poor Isabella, in self-defence against “continual figiting and kicking” had to banish Marjorie to the foot of the bed, an arrangement not without its advantages, for it gave a certain young person opportunity “to be continialy at work reading the Arabian nights entertainment, which I could not have done had I slept at the top.” The situation, moreover, inspired the following remarkable verses:— “I love in Isa’s bed to lie O such a joy and luxury The bottom of the bed I sleep And with great care I myself keep Oft I embrace her feet of lillys But she has got on all the pillies Her neck I never can embrace But I do hug her feet in place. But I am sure I am contented And of my follies am repented I’m sure I’d rather be In a small bed at liberty.” Isabella would seem to have restored her soon again, however, for we learn from a later poem:—