Old Glasgow, almost encircled by hills and uplands, presents a picturesque view, as the steamer moves slowly up the narrowing channel of the Clyde. But with its rapid commercial growth, its 2,000,000 spindles, its steam-power, and its busy marts of trade, it is a city of the present rather than the past, and beyond the Knox monument and the Cathedral presents few attractions to the history-loving stranger. Our tourists stopped at Glasgow to make a day's excursion to the home of Burns. They were taken from the boat to the Queen's Hotel in George's Square; but George Howe and Leander Towle after resting with the rest of the party, secured lodgings in a private house. The boys arose the next morning, with dreams of the Doon and Ayr. To their disappointment, a heavy mist hung over the city; and they found it a dreary and disappointing walk to the South Side Station, where they were to take the train for Ayr. The two hours' ride on the train was as colorless; they were whirled through a novel and beautiful summer landscape, but Nature had dropped her sea-curtain and sky-curtain of fog and mist over all. When the party arrived at Ayr, it was raining. The boys' faces, too, were cloudy, and each one pressed Master Lewis with the question, "What shall we do?" Tommy Toby at last answered the rather embarrassing question with, "Let us consult the barometer." [Illustration: {THE BOYS CONSULT THE BAROMETER.}] The barometer, too, wore a cloudy face, and frowned at them, as though it meant never to predict fine weather again. But, after waiting awhile at the station, there were signs of lifting clouds and clearing skies. A weather-wise old Scotchman promised the party a fair day, and bid them "God speed" for the home of "Robbie Burns." Presently, the sun began to shoot his lances through the mist, and the tourists set out for their first walk, which was to be a two-mile one, to Burns's cottage. [Illustration: BIRTHPLACE OF ROBERT BURNS.] The cottage was indeed an humble one. It was built by the father of Burns, with his own hands, before his marriage, and originally contained two rooms. In the interior of the kitchen, a Scotchwoman showed to the party a recess where "The bard peasant first drew breath." The simplicity of the place and its ennobling associations seemed to touch all except Tommy, who remarked to Frank Gray,-- "I was born in a better room than that myself." "But I fear you never will be called to sing the songs of a nation." "I fear I never shall," said Tommy, meekly. From the cottage, the party went to the Burns monument. From the base of its columns, the beauties of Scottish scenery began to appear. "It is the way in which one ends life that honors the place of one's birth," said Frank to Tommy. "So I see," said Tommy, as the sun came out and covered the beautiful monument, and illuminated the record of the poet's fame.