To-day's walk must be a short one, for, with the sea in front of us, and the rapidly increasing boundaries of Leith and Portobello on either side, there only remains a small space to be explored. Let us start from the Holyrood entrance to the Queen's Park, and walk towards St. Margaret's Loch. The iron-barred gate, which apparently leads to a vault in the hill-side to our right, guards the curious old well of St. Margaret. If we go close to the bars, in a few minutes our eyes become accustomed to the darkness, and we can clearly see the venerable arches, with the central pillar which supports the richly groined roof. A stone ledge runs round seven sides of the building, a little above the level of the water, which always flows there, clear and icy cold. The well formerly stood in a picturesque situation near the church of Restalrig, and very probably was the original fountain of St. Triduan, to which pilgrimages were made.[46] An ancient elder-tree with twisted branches overshadowed it; a tiny thatched cottage stood hard by; and the spot was the most sheltered and peaceful that could be imagined. When the North British Railway threatened to bury this curious well beneath its embankment, and eventually destroy it (as it destroyed the beautiful and venerable Collegiate Church of the Holy Trinity), Dr. Laing and other enlightened and energetic antiquarians of the day made a successful attempt to move the whole structure to the Queen's Park, where it was erected over what was known of old as St. David's or the Rood Well. It is now in safety, and presents its original appearance, though deprived of its former picturesque surroundings. [46] Sir David Lindsay writes of persons going To Sanct Trid well to mend thair ene. A little farther on, a steep path winds away up to St. Anthony's Chapel, passing the stone from which gushes the famous wishing-well. This well is mentioned in the beautiful and pathetic ballad of "The Marchioness of Douglas," which begins, Oh, waly, waly up yon bank, An' waly, waly down yon brae.[47] [47] I had intended only to quote a few lines of this touching lament, but it is all so beautiful, I cannot refrain from quoting the whole, and trust that those who know it well already will not mind reading it again. THE MARCHIONESS OF DOUGLAS. Oh, waly, waly up yon bank, An' waly, waly down yon brae, An' waly, waly by yon burn side, Whar I an' my love were wont to gae. Hey nonnie, nonnie, but love is bonnie A little while, when it is new, But when it's auld, it waxes cauld, An' wears awa like mornin' dew. Oh, wherefore sud I busk my head, An' wherefore sud I kaim my hair, Sin' my gude Lord's forsaken me, An' says he'll never lo'e me mair. When we rade in, by Glasgow toun, We were a comely sight to see, My Lord was clad in black velvet An' I, mysel', in cramasye.