"_Jam satis terris,_" _&c._
_Alt-na-blashy._--The aqueous and igneous agencies seem to be combined
in these quarters, for since the rain we hear of a great increase of
burns. In default of the moors we fall back on the kitchen and the
cellar. I need hardly add that dry wines are almost exclusively used by
our party, and moist sugar is generally avoided. Dripping, too, is
discontinued, and everything that is likely to whet the appetite is at a
discount.
_Drizzle-arich._--A Frenchman, soaked out of our bothy by the moisture
of the weather, was overheard to exclaim "_Apres moi le deluge._"
_Inverdreary._--Greatly to the indignation of their chief, several of
the "Children of the Mist", in this romantic but rainy region, have
assumed the garb of the Mackintoshes.
_Loch Drunkie._--We have several partners in misery within hail, or life
would be fairly washed out of us. We make up parties alternately at our
shooting quarters when the weather allows of wading between them.
Inebriation, it is to be feared, must be on the increase, for few of us
who go out to dinner return without making a wet night of it.
Meantime, the watering-places in our vicinity--in particular the Linns
o' Dun-Dreepie--are literally overflowing.
It is asserted that even young horses are growing impatient of the
reins.
Our greatest comfort is the weekly budget of dry humour from _Mr.
Punch_.
* * * * *
A DISAPPOINTING HOST.--_Sandy._ "A 'm tellt ye hev a new nebbur,
Donal'." _Donald._ "Aye." _Sandy._ "An' what like is he?" _Donald._
"Weel, he's a curious laddie. A went to hev a bit talk wi' him th' ither
evenin', an' he offered me a glass o' whuskey, d'ye see? Weel, he was
poorin' it oot, an' A said to him 'Stop!'--_an' he stoppit!_ That's the
soort o' mon he is."
* * * * *
[Illustration: AMBIGUITY