Beyond Pettycur, and the high ground of Grange, once the home of that famous champion, Kirkcaldy of Grange, the wide curve of Kirkcaldy Bay opens up. The old burgh of Kinghorn is at one extremity, and the still more ancient town of Dysart at the other; and the middle foreground is largely occupied by the houses and shipping of the "Lang Toun." The very names of Kirkcaldy ("Kirk of the Culdees") and of Dysart ("Desertum") point to the antiquity and the sanctity of the origin of places that to this day are strongly "Churchy." The grotesque folk-tale relates that the devil was "buried in Kirkcaldy," and that his complaint that "his taes were cauld" led the good-natured inhabitants to build house to house, until now the town, with the villages connected, stretches some four miles in a straight line. The story may have had its origin in some of the apostolic doings of St. Serf, who had for a time his "desert" in one of the caves in the red cliffs at Dysart; or else in some magic feat of the wizard Michael Scott--the friend of Dante and Boccaccio--whose weird tower of Balwearie is an uncanny neighbour of the "Lang Toun." The ruins, close by the shore, of Seafield Tower and of Ravenscraig Castle--the latter the home of the line of "high St. Clair," and of the "lovely Rosabelle"--are now strangely backed by floor-cloth factories. Kirkcaldy has, however, other and even better things to be proud of; for here Adam Smith was born; here Edward Irving taught and preached, with Thomas Carlyle, the dominie of a competing school, as his friend and companion on excursions to Inchkeith, and to quaint nooks of the Fife coast. The author of "Sartor Resartus" had kindly recollections of the folks of the "Kingdom"--"good old Scotch in all their works and ways;" and with strong unerring touches brings before us their "ancient little burghs and sea villages, with their poor little havens, salt-pans, and weather-beaten bits of Cyclopean breakwaters, and rude innocent machineries."