down upon the burning plains over which we had so wearily made our way. Two good blankets were on the bed, and a carpet on the floor; a wood-fire was burning in the grate, and there, too, was a chimney, (a thing unknown below,) with tongs and wheezing bellows, and close-shutting glass windows.
On going into the fresh, cool morning air, a strange luxury to the lungs, we found ourselves in front of a pretty residence on the summit of an elevation which sloped gently down to a little lake embosomed amid hills, and winding among their almost meeting bases. Along its margin ran a good red road; and neat houses, white-walled and red-roofed, were dotted here and there on the sides and levelled tops of the hills. Across the lake, on a prominent elevation, stood a village church; and behind it a high ridge bounded the view, and formed a fine background to the scene. It would have been easy to have imagined, if we had faith in the Arabian tales, that we had seated ourselves upon a magic rug, and had been transported from sultry India, the land of the palm-tree and the banana, to some sweet spot in the Scottish Highlands. We were, however, still
