One other story, and we must take leave of Jamie. When crossing a wild part of the country, it so happened that through being benighted, he was in danger of losing his way. Nearing a farm-stead, the pleasing sound of a fiddle fell on his ears, which ultimately turned out to proceed from an adjoining barn, where a dancing school was held. On entering, Jamie met with a warm reception from the people assembled, and enjoyed the scene before him with much glee. Getting communicative with those around, he threw out some broadish hints that he thought he could dance a hornpipe or jig better than the dancing-master himself. To such a belief as this the teacher entirely demurred; and the difference of opinion thus set forth paved the way for a friendly contest. Notwithstanding being a good deal fatigued with travelling, Jamie managed to trip about with so much gracefulness and agility, that he was acknowledged by all present to have quite outrivalled the professor of the calisthenic art. James Scott died at Oarnlee in the year 1854, aged sixty-six years. ROBERT ROWANTREE, OF KINGWATER. Robert Rowantree, the subject of this brief memoir, was one of the big stalwart athletes of the wrestling ring in the "olden time," when wrestlers six feet high, and fourteen stones weight, were plentiful amongst the competitors of the northern arena. Rowantree was not so much distinguished for science as William Jackson, Richard Chapman, or the Donaldsons of more recent times; but was formidable from possessing great strength, a long reaching muscular arm, much supple activity, and no end of endurance in a keen, protracted struggle with an adversary. Remarkable instances of this fierce endurance are to this day commented on, particularly in his memorable bouts with John Richardson of Staffield Hall, "Belted Will" of Caldbeck, and the celebrated bone-setter, George Dennison. Rowantree was born in the vale of Kingwater, in the year 1779. The place of his birth, and where he continued to reside for a long series of years, is a lonely and sterile region, inhabited chiefly by sheep-farmers, situate between the green woodland slopes of Gilsland, and the then wild unclaimed wastes of Bewcastle; and was doubtless in the long ago border marauding times the scene of many a bloody raid; and later, too, of many smuggling affrays in getting across the border untaxed whiskey. Maitland's _Complaint_ gives a vivid description of the lawlessness prevalent:-- That nane may keip Horse, nolt, nor sheip, Nor yet dar sleip, For thair mischeifis. "The lordly halls of Triermaine," in the vale of Kingwater, supplied the title to one of Sir Walter Scott's poems; but the once "lordly halls" are now reduced to a mere fragment.