over Sebastopol, and finally arrived at McGibbet's, wet, tired, and hungry. That Sabbath-broker received us with a grim smile of satisfaction, put on the half-extinguished fire the smallest bit of wood he could find in the pile beside the hearth, and then went away with Boab to the stable. "Gloomy prospects ahead, Picton!" The traveller said never a word. Now I wish to record here this, that there is no place, no habitation of man, however humble, that cannot be lighted up with a smile of welcome, and the good right-hand of hospitality, and made cheerful as a palace hung with the lamps of Aladdin! McGibbet, after leading his beast to the stable, returned, and warming his wet hands at the fire, grunted out; "It rains the nigcht." "Yes," answered Picton, hastily, "rains like blue blazes: I say, get us a drop of whisky, will you?" To this the equine replied by folding his hands one over the other with a saintly look. "I never keep thae thing in the hoose." "Picton," said I, "if we could only unlash our luggage, I have a bottle of capital old brandy in my trunk, but it's too much trouble." "Oh! na," quoth Robbut with a most accommodating look, "it will be nae trooble to get to it." "Well, then," said Picton, "look sharp, will you?" and our host, with great swiftness, moved off to the wagon, and very soon returned with the trunk on his shoulder, according to directions. "But," said I, taking out the bottle of precious fluid, "here it is, corked up tight, and what is to be done for a cork-screw?" "I've got one," said the saint. "I thought it was likely," quoth Picton, drily; "look sharp, will you?" And Robbut did look sharp, and produced the identical instrument before Picton and I had exchanged smiles. Then Robbut spread out three green tumblers on the table, and following Picton's lead, poured out a stout half-glass, at which I shouted out, "Hold up!" for I thought he was filling the tumbler for my benefit. It proved to be a mistake; Robbut stopped for a moment, but instantly recovering himself, covered the tumbler with his four fingers, and, to use a Western phrase, "got outside of the contents quicker than lightning." Then he brought from his bed-room a coarse sort of worsted horse-blanket, and with a "Ye'll may-be like to sleep an hour or twa?" threw down his family-quilt and retired to the arms of Mrs. McG. Picton gave a great crunching blow with his boot-heel at the back-stick, and laid on a good supply of fuel. We were wet through and through, but we wrapped ourselves in our travelling-blankets like a brace of clansmen in their plaids, put our feet towards the niggardly blaze, and were soon bound and clasped with sleep.