Though beads like dewdrops did begem
Its ruby rippling diadem.




CHAPTER III.


"And "Little Johnny Robertson,"
But lately from amongst us gone,
Took both his "sneeshin" and his glass,
And let the tide of fortune pass.
And Ewen Cameron, who died
By cholera in manhood's pride;
A Caledonian lithe and strong,
As fancy paints the dauntless throng,
Who dashed with claymore down the slope,
On red Culloden's grave of hope.
And Peter Aylen, who could tell
The path he trod of yore as well
As I, who from an early day
Knew Peter Aylen's every way?
'Tis not my purpose to indite
A history of his life; or write
A record of his strange career,
To interest the reader here.
Howe'er his stirring life you scan,
You'll find that Aylen was a man!
Afraid of nought that ever wore