Past through the most
glorious
corn-country I ever saw, till I reach
Dunbar, a neat little town.
Dunbar, a neat little town.
Robert Forst
William Grieve's attachment to the family-circle, so fond, that
when he is out, which by the bye is often the case, he cannot go to
bed till he see if all his sisters are sleeping well ---- Pass the
famous Abbey of Coldingham, and Pease-bridge. --Call at Mr. Sheriff's
where Mr. A. and I dine. --Mr. S. talkative and conceited. I talk of
love to Nancy the whole evening, while her brother escorts home some
companions like himself. --Sir James Hall of Dunglass, having heard of
my being in the neighbourhood, comes to Mr. Sheriff's to
breakfast--takes me to see his fine scenery on the stream of
Dunglass--Dunglass the most romantic, sweet place I over saw--Sir
James and his lady a pleasant happy couple. --He points out a walk for
which he has an uncommon respect, as it was made by an aunt of his, to
whom he owes much.
Miss ---- will accompany me to Dunbar, by way of making a parade of me as a
sweetheart of hers, among her relations. She mounts an old cart-horse, as
huge and as lean as a house; a rusty old side-saddle without girth, or
stirrup, but fastened on with an old pillion-girth--herself as fine as
hands could make her, in cream-coloured riding clothes, hat and feather,
&c. --I, ashamed of my situation, ride like the devil, and almost shake her
to pieces on old Jolly--get rid of her by refusing to call at her uncle's
with her.
Past through the most glorious corn-country I ever saw, till I reach
Dunbar, a neat little town. --Dine with Provost Fall, an eminent
merchant, and most respectable character, but undescribable, as he
exhibits no marked traits. Mrs. Fall, a genius in painting; fully more
clever in the fine arts and sciences than my friend Lady Wauchope,
without her consummate assurance of her own abilities. --Call with Mr.
Robinson (who, by the bye, I find to be a worthy, much respected man,
very modest; warm, social heart, which with less good sense than his
would be perhaps with the children of prim precision and pride, rather
inimical to that respect which is man's due from man) with him I call
on Miss Clarke, a maiden in the Scotch phrase, "_Guid enough, but no
brent new_:" a clever woman, with tolerable pretensions to remark and
wit; while time had blown the blushing bud of bashful modesty into the
flower of easy confidence. She wanted to see what sort of _raree show_
an author was; and to let him know, that though Dunbar was but a
little town, yet it was not destitute of people of parts.
Breakfast next morning at Skateraw, at Mr. Lee's, a farmer of great
note. --Mr. Lee, an excellent, hospitable, social fellow, rather
oldish; warm-hearted and chatty--a most judicious, sensible farmer.
Mr. Lee detains me till next morning. --Company at dinner. --My Rev.
acquaintance Dr.
when he is out, which by the bye is often the case, he cannot go to
bed till he see if all his sisters are sleeping well ---- Pass the
famous Abbey of Coldingham, and Pease-bridge. --Call at Mr. Sheriff's
where Mr. A. and I dine. --Mr. S. talkative and conceited. I talk of
love to Nancy the whole evening, while her brother escorts home some
companions like himself. --Sir James Hall of Dunglass, having heard of
my being in the neighbourhood, comes to Mr. Sheriff's to
breakfast--takes me to see his fine scenery on the stream of
Dunglass--Dunglass the most romantic, sweet place I over saw--Sir
James and his lady a pleasant happy couple. --He points out a walk for
which he has an uncommon respect, as it was made by an aunt of his, to
whom he owes much.
Miss ---- will accompany me to Dunbar, by way of making a parade of me as a
sweetheart of hers, among her relations. She mounts an old cart-horse, as
huge and as lean as a house; a rusty old side-saddle without girth, or
stirrup, but fastened on with an old pillion-girth--herself as fine as
hands could make her, in cream-coloured riding clothes, hat and feather,
&c. --I, ashamed of my situation, ride like the devil, and almost shake her
to pieces on old Jolly--get rid of her by refusing to call at her uncle's
with her.
Past through the most glorious corn-country I ever saw, till I reach
Dunbar, a neat little town. --Dine with Provost Fall, an eminent
merchant, and most respectable character, but undescribable, as he
exhibits no marked traits. Mrs. Fall, a genius in painting; fully more
clever in the fine arts and sciences than my friend Lady Wauchope,
without her consummate assurance of her own abilities. --Call with Mr.
Robinson (who, by the bye, I find to be a worthy, much respected man,
very modest; warm, social heart, which with less good sense than his
would be perhaps with the children of prim precision and pride, rather
inimical to that respect which is man's due from man) with him I call
on Miss Clarke, a maiden in the Scotch phrase, "_Guid enough, but no
brent new_:" a clever woman, with tolerable pretensions to remark and
wit; while time had blown the blushing bud of bashful modesty into the
flower of easy confidence. She wanted to see what sort of _raree show_
an author was; and to let him know, that though Dunbar was but a
little town, yet it was not destitute of people of parts.
Breakfast next morning at Skateraw, at Mr. Lee's, a farmer of great
note. --Mr. Lee, an excellent, hospitable, social fellow, rather
oldish; warm-hearted and chatty--a most judicious, sensible farmer.
Mr. Lee detains me till next morning. --Company at dinner. --My Rev.
acquaintance Dr.
