Indeed, my feelings of appreciation were very much on the same par with those experiences when, in Japan, we were expected to sit on the mats with our lower limbs doubled up, or tied in a knot, during hours of personal agony. These classic performances were manifestly full of delight to the cultured admirers of pose and motion, in the “No” dances, though insufferably tedious to those whose legs had fallen asleep. Even in later times, when chairs were provided and the accessories were suggestive of comfort, there was not enough in the dancing of the “No” operatic performers or in the antics of the geisha, to serve as magnets. It was easy to explain, however, why and wherefore Scottish cheeks are so suggestive of rose gardens, and also why consumption is so common. The rain did indeed redden the complexions, but as to the number of cases of pneumonia, or tuberculosis, which ensued after exposure on this chilly day, we cannot inform our readers, not having the statistics at hand. To this, however, we can testify, that when we got back to Room No. 6, of the Waverley Hotel, we were the subjects of a sort of telepathy that enabled us to feel profound sympathy with Peary when in search of the North Pole. Never did a grate full of live coals seem more welcome. We almost literally hung up ourselves, or at least what had been our outward semblance, to dry. When properly desiccated, we retired early, in order the more to enjoy the glorious island voyage among the Highlands which we knew awaited us next morning. It was genuine Scotch weather when we woke up and looked out upon a landscape dominated by Ben Nevis, of whose towering form we could catch glimpses now and then through the cloud rifts, while on the hills around us lay patches and lines of snow. At times we were in that “Scotch mist,” in which, as hostile critics declare, the metaphysicians who live north of the Tweed do at times get lost. Just when it began or left off raining might have puzzled a weather bureau man to tell. As for ourselves, we could have taken oath as to our own inability if we had been called upon in court. If a jury had been empanelled, then and there, to determine whether it was or was not raining, the verdict in either case would undoubtedly have been, as became the country, “Not proven.” Nevertheless, after we had crossed the gangway of the boat, a sister ship to the Gondolier of yesterday, and looked over the landscape, from both starboard and port side, we began to think it was true, as Professor Blaikie once said, that “Scotland is like a pebble, it requires rain to bring out its colors.” It is certain that many spots in this charming glen did look like the water lines, waves, and layers of varied tints which we have seen on the surfaces of chalcedony.