The Republican journal., 1901-11-28
IN KING EDWARDS DOMAIN.
Notes of Six Weeks Trip to England and
Scotland.

Scotland.
V.
We awoke Monday morning to find
that a Scotch mist hung over the city,
threatening to envelop it every few sec
onds. As we were not obliged to leave
cover to take our train we were not
long in entering the compartments re-
served for us and were soon en- route
for Balloch Pier, Loeb Lomond Had
our compartments not been reserved in
advance we should have had rather
uncomfortable time. 1t was holiday
in Glasgow, and youths in checked
tweeds, with cigarettes, accompanying
rosy-cheeked maidens with frizzes and
lunch box, were very much in evidence,
and every compartment was filled to its
utmost squeezing capacity. On arrival
at the pier we found the steamer await
ing us. We boarded her, in company
with the youths and maidens, lunch
boxes and cigarettes, and secured
camp stools for the sail up the lake.
On the arrival of special train few
minutes later more pleasure-seeking
couples clad in waterproofs and rain
coats came aboard and we were soon
under way. The storm that threatened
us in the morning was still holding off,
and as we passed Ben Lomond and Ben
Ledi with their crests shrouded in the
gray mists, we agreed that nothing
could be more grand and majestic At
each of the landings some of the pic
nicers left us, but enough remained to
fill the regular coaches when we arriv-
ed at Iversnaid. While our conductor
was negotiating for transportation for
the party the two camera fiends slip
ped off and ''snap-shotted" pictures
que waterfall near by. On our return,
we found the party mounting to a
drag" put on for our benefit. The
drive through the Trossachs was beauti-
full beyond description. The road, hard
and smooth, wound in and out in grace
full curves between the majestic trees;
ever, no matter how slight the grade,
mounting up, up. In this all-too-short
three mile drive to Stronachlacher we
passed many things of interest to the
tourist. Little Scotch cottages with
matched roofs; peat bog, with neat
piles of fuel arranged at one side; large
game preserves, where here and there
a ''cotton-tail' would pop out Of his
burrow and gaze at us with astonish-
ment, his bright little eyes almost pop
ping out of his head in wonder at the
strange apparition. At Stronachlacher
at the foot Of Loeb Katrine we board
ed the steamer 'Sir Walter Scott"
Perhaps the poet can best describe the
scene that lay before us on our sail up
the lake.
''Loch-Katrine lay beneath him roll'd
In all her length far winding lay,
With prOmentOry, creek, and bay,
And islands that, unpurpled bright,
FlOated amid the livelier light;
And mountains, that like giants stand,
To sentinel enchanted land.
High on the south, huge Ben-venue
Down on the lake in masses threw
Craggs, knobs, and mounds, confusedly
hurld
The fragments of an earlier world;
A wildering forest feather'd DER
His ruined sides and summit boar,
While on the north, through middle air,
Ben-an heaved high his forehead bare.''
At the head of the lake we found
coaches awaiting us, and with one stop
of half an hour for lunch at the Tros-
sachs Hotel we took the delightful
twelve mile drive through to Calender.
Near the foot of Ben Nevis we saw
a picnic party indulging in an animated |
game of ball-very differently played,
however, from our National game"
Our coachman was very communica-
tive, and pointed out the most northern
point ever reached by the Romans, the