This diverted the women folk, and exercised the little anes, wha were thus prepared for the hardships o' the wild life that they afterwards led. Aweel, ae fine winter afternoon, as ane o' the bairns' maids frae the castle was pu'in a young Macduff, in a braw silver-mounted cradle, upon the loch, and his mother lookin at them frae the hill here--maybe frae the very place where we noo stand--the ice brak, and doon gaed the cradle, bairn and a', to the bottom o' the loch. The puir lassie, wha stood upon a stronger part o' the ice, and still had the broken leadin-strings in her hand, heard the screams o' the distracted mother, and saw the muddy water risin owre the head o' the helpless wean; and, castin a confused look around, to see if ony assistance was at hand, she plunged into the same hole; and, in tryin to save the bairn, lost hersel. The watchman on the castle-tower heard the screams o' the leddy, and saw the melancholy accident; and ae tout o' his horn sent a hunder hardy callants to the place; but they were owre late. The bairn and his nurse were pu'ed oot o' the loch clasped in ane anither's arms; but the life had gaen oot o' them baith. It's said, however, that the body o' the bit lassie wha had perished in tryin to save that young sprout o' nobility received a' the honour that the gratitude o' its high-minded parents could confer. The last act o' her life was noble, and she was buried in the same grave wi' the son o' Macduff. But, noo that I've recovered my breath, we'll be joggin awa, if ye like; for ye'll be clean wearied oot wi' waitin upon an auld man's havers." "I assure you I am not," said the stranger. "I have been much delighted with your recital; and I shall never think that time lost which is spent listening to such interesting anecdotes. But, pray, what is the name of that old, grey-roofed house upon the bank, at the western extremity of the loch?" "Ou, that's just oor auld kirk," said James; "and a very venerable biggin it is, too. It was ance a Roman Catholic chapel; but the altar and the images hae been a' demolished; and the only vestige o' superstition that remains noo is the cross upon the riggin, and the jugs, and a stane basin for the holy water, in the porch. But that's a fine, solemn situation, ye'll alloo, for a kirk; and that's a bonny burying-ground around it, too. It's just a pleasure to puir bodies like me to think that they hae a claim to sic a quiet inheritance, when a' the toils and troubles o' life are past." "Tis indeed a sweetly-retired spot," said the stranger; "and it wants only that 'cheerless, unsocial plant,' the sepulchral yew, to make it accord exactly to the description given by Gray in these beautiful lines of the Elegy-- 'Beneath these rugged elms--that yew-tree's shade, Where heaves the turf in many a mouldering heap, Each in his narrow cell for ever laid, The rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep.'"