languished for a bit of a worry. I have said nothing yet of our getting on among the loose stones large and small sometimes on two, sometimes on three, sometimes four legs--sometimes two and stick, sometimes three and stick, then four again, then two, then a jump, so that we kept on ringing changes on foot, hand, stick, jump, boggle, stumble, foot, hand, foot (very gingerly), stick again, and then again a game at all fours. After all there was one Mrs. Cameron of 50 years of age and the fattest woman in all Inverness-shire who got up this Mountain some few years ago--true she had her servants--but then she had her self. She ought to have hired Sisyphus,--"Up the high hill he heaves a huge round--Mrs. Cameron." 'Tis said a little conversation took place between the mountain and the Lady. After taking a glass of Whisky as she was tolerably seated at ease she thus began-- _Mrs. C._ Upon my Life Sir Nevis I am pique'd That I have so far panted tugg'd and reek'd To do an honor to your old bald pate And now am sitting on you just to bait, Without your paying me one compliment. Alas 'tis so with all, when our intent Is plain, and in the eye of all Mankind We fair ones show a preference, too blind! You Gentle man immediately turn tail-- O let me then my hapless fate bewail! Ungrateful Baldpate have I not disdain'd The pleasant Valleys--have I not madbrain'd Deserted all my Pickles and preserves My China closet too--with wretched Nerves To boot--say wretched ingrate have I not Left my soft cushion chair and caudle pot. 'Tis true I had no corns--no! thank the fates My Shoemaker was always Mr. Bates. And if not Mr. Bates why I'm not old! Still dumb ungrateful Nevis--still so cold! Here the Lady took some more whisky and was putting even more to her lips when she dashed it to the Ground for the Mountain began to grumble--which continued for a few minutes before he thus began-- _Ben Nevis._ What whining bit of tongue and Mouth thus dares Disturb my slumber of a thousand years? Even so long my sleep has been secure-- And to be so awaked I'll not endure. Oh pain--for since the Eagle's earliest scream I've had a damn'd confounded ugly dream, A Nightmare sure. What Madam was it you? It cannot be! My old eyes are not true! Red-Crag, my Spectacles! Now let me see! Good Heavens Lady how the gemini Did you get here? O I shall split my sides! I shall earthquake---- _Mrs. C._ Sweet Nevis do not quake, for though I love Your honest Countenance all things above Truly I should not like to be convey'd So far into your Bosom--gentle Maid Loves not too rough a treatment gentle Sir-- Pray thee be calm and do not quake nor stir No not a Stone or I shall go in fits-- _Ben Nevis._