it. But we missed the village, for it was a mile or two off the road to
Dumfries, which we hoped to reach for the night. An unexpected
difficulty with the car nearly put this out of the range of possibility,
but by grace of the long Scotch twilight, we came into Dumfries about
ten o'clock without finding it necessary to light our lamps. Our day's
journey had been a tiresome one, and we counted ourselves fortunate on
being directed to the Station Hotel, which was as comfortable and well
managed as any we found. The average railway hotel in America is
anything but an attractive proposition, but in Scotland and in England
conditions are almost reversed, the station hotels under the control of
the different railway companies being generally the best.

[Illustration: ENTRANCE TO LOCH TYNE.

From Water Color by Stewart.]

We had been attracted to Dumfries chiefly because of its association
with Robert Burns, who spent the last years of his life in the town or
in its immediate vicinity. Our first pilgrimage was to the poet's tomb,
in St. Michael's churchyard. A splendid memorial marks the place, but a
visit to the small dingy house a few yards distant, in which he died,
painfully reminded us of his last years of distress and absolute want.
Within easy reach of Dumfries lie many points of interest, but as our
time permitted us to visit only one of these, we selected Caerlaverock
Castle, the Ellangowan of Scott's "Guy Mannering," lying about ten miles
to the south. In location and style of construction it is one of the
most remarkable of the Scotch ruins. It stands in an almost level
country near the coast and must have depended for defense on its
enormously thick walls and the great double moat which surrounded it,
rather than the strength of its position. The castle is built of