goat-she ran forwards and scrambled down to the extremity of the rock, from which she could neither get backwards nor forwards, and where the briars caught her hat and wig, utterly destroyed her flounced and furbelowed gownand held her in bodily fear and thraldom, until released by the gallant prowess of Maister Andra' Macgregor.' Her brother and his cockney friend,-with that ill-bred inattention to ladies, which vulgar young men always think the thing,' had left her to go 'holp-unting', along the ledge of rock by herself and walked on strait down the bill;-from the bottom of which they had stood laughing at her situation. The good-natured Scotch farmer, who had got acquainted with Mees Beedy' and the whole family party, the day before, had been drawn to the spot while walking near, by her cries-just before our travellers arrived. O Miss, is it you?' exclaimed Miss Biddy, when having shaken herself after her disaster, and, volubly told the story of her dangers, she recognized in Miss St. Clair, her former fellow passenger in the packet from Brighton to Dieppe. Who'd have thought of meeting you here among the Holpes ?-Gracious me!--Well, I declare, Miss, I'm so glad to see you. It's quite romantic--is'nt it?" But without waiting for any answer, she began with,-O dear! O dear! only do look, Tom!--Look at my noo gown!' and Miss Biddy's lamentations over the destruction of her finery, were not less long and loud, than they had been about the camel.' 6 Why, Mees Beedy, if you'd had a bean looking Leghorn hat till your heed, and a dooce sensible like silk goon till your back-like them ladies--instead of a' yon freepery, you wad na' ha' been reeven to rags, like a randie.' Frippery, indeed!' exclaimed Miss Biddy; whose rage at this disparagement of her finery, could scarcely be restrained within decent bounds ;--all the services the good-natured Scotchman had rendered her, from this moment being completely cancelled in her eyes by that single word Frippery, indeed!' and straightway she poured forth an angry torrent of volubility upon the unlucky Scot, that lasted long after he was out of hearing; for, having vainly endeavoured to mollify her with a Weel, weel! I didna' ken ye'd hae' been sae ang'red,' he walked away from the storm he had unwittingly raised. At the Table d' Hote, young Blossom and his friend, whom he designated as 'Mr. Whitestaple,' or as he called it Vitestaple, an eminent silk-mercer from Vood Street,' found fault with every thing and every body. The vine was winegar, the wedgittubles vorse than vormvood, and the weal not worth heating.'Then, as to Chamouni, the vooden ouses vere orrid, the vinders igh, and the vomen ideous.' -The honest Scotch farmer they pronounced 'wulgar,'—and Lord Lumbercourt they decided upon beingwerry wulgar indeed.' This opinion, which probably was founded upon the redness of his Lordship's face, and a certain tendency to corpulence, was expressed loud enough to catch Caroline's ear, who was opposite to them, and enjoying their anticipated discomfiture, from the discovery of who he was, she instantly addressed him by the title of 'My Lord,' so as they could not fail to hear it. Lard, Brother!' exclaimed Miss Biddy, nudging young Blossom with her elbow, do you know that's a Lard ?' 'Don't nip my harm so, Biddy!' exclaimed he. 'La Tom! now ow can you be so frumpish? What arm can there be in touching your harm? One would think you were made of hegg shells.' Caroline happened to be seated next the honest Scotch farmer, and though his manners and dialect were certainly much broader and more vulgar than most of that highly respectable class in his own country, yet he had all the acute remark, strong shrewd sense, sound judgment, and accurate extensive information, which distinguish his countrymen; and the nature and the sagacity he shewed in seizing the main points of a subject-the originality of his ideas, the genuine good humour, and even the broad Scotch of his conversation, amused her extremely:even his vulgarity being that of his language and country, and being wholly free from affectation and pretence, had nothing in it disagreeable or disgusting. He was a man apparently about forty-five, had, by some extraordinary chance escaped being married-and having made a good deal of money, he had left the management of their extensive farm 'till his brither, and just come ower to spy the ferlies of the countries he had heard and read so much about. The rest of the party, besides the hopeful family of the Blossoms-consisted of several highly respectable English-divided into little knot of Papas, Mammas, and Misses-well dressed, well behaved, but remarkably insipid. There were two young Germans, very ill dressed, who spoke a little very bad French-and seemed to be very poor, and deeply tinctured with German enthusiasm and philosophy. There was one Frenchman who talked in the style Frenchmen often talk of L' Aimable Vallée'-and the 'jolies montagnes.' Another, a genuine Badaud de Paris on the contrary, with a most piteous shrug exclaimed-- Mais mon Dieu! quel pays! --quels chemins affreux!--quels lieux Sauvages!'--and constant were the prayers he put up to be once more safe restored to Paris. There was also a Russian Count, a young man of elegant person and manners, and princely fortune. He was deeply regretting the whole of dinner time, that he had not arrived at Chamouni in time to have accompanied a young Englishman who had set off in the morning on that arduous and perilous undertaking-an expedition to the summit of Mont Blanc-and whose success seemed deeply to interest all the people of the valley. Mine host, who was waiter in chief and all the other waiters-and all the guides and all the peasants of Chamouni, talked with enthusiastic wonder of the extraordinary feats of courage and agility this same Milor Anglais' had performed in a Chamois hunt, two days before, which he had undertaken with some of the most enterprising guides and hunters over the most inaccessible of the icy heights of the Alps; and in short, the whole valley rung with his praise. But nobody atChamouni (as usual) knew his name-for English names foreigners can never master-nor was his name to be found in the book inscribed with the names of all mine host's guests :- :-for 'Milor' had taken up his abode at a cottage in the valley, on purpose, it was said, to shun the crowds of English at the inn-for which proceeding most part of the said English at the inn -very charitably concluded that Milor' must have some reason not very creditable to him. Before sun set the mountain party, with 'Milor,' that were scaling Mont Blanc-were seen to have gained the high perpendicular rock of Le Grand Mulet, on which they were to pass the night-and some rockets let off from this situation by the guides after dark, had a peculiarly fine effect, viewed from the valley. CHAPTER XI. THE MONTANVERT AND MER DE GLACE. Here on snows where never human foot LORD BYRON. AFTER breakfast next morning, Colonel Cleveland, Miss St. Clair, and Mademoiselle Delemont, set off for the Montanvert and the Mer de Glace. To their utter astonishment, Lord |