dishevelled hair and loose wrapper, was to open the door and beckon
the poor man within the shelter of the verandah. When once I had
got him there I did not exactly know what to do with my guest, for
neither fire nor food could be procured quite so early. He crouched
like a stray dog down on the dripping mat outside the door, and
murmured some unintelligible words. In this dilemma I hastened to
wake up poor F---, who found it difficult to understand why I wanted
him to get up at daylight during a "sou'-wester." But I entreated
him to go to the hall door, whilst I flew off to get my lazy maids
out of their warm beds. With all their faults, they did not need
much rousing on that occasion. I suppose I used very forcible words
to convey the misery of the object standing outside, for I know that
Mary was in floods of tears, and had fastened her gown on over her
night-gear, whilst I was still speaking; and the cook had tumbled
out of bed, and was kneeling before the kitchen fire with her eyes
shut, kindling a blaze, apparently, in her sleep.

As soon as things were in this forward state, I returned to the
verandah, and found our swagger guest drawing a very long breath
after a good nip of pure whisky which F--- had promptly administered
to him. "I'm fair clemmed wi' cold and wet," the swagger said,
still bundled up in his comparatively sheltered corner. "I've been
out on the hills the whole night, and I am deadbeat. Might I stop
here for a bit?" He asked this very doubtfully, for it is quite
against swagger etiquette to demand shelter in the morning. For all
answer he was taken by the shoulder, and helped up. I never shall
forget the poor tramp's deprecating face, as he looked back at me,
whilst he was being led through the pretty little dining-room, with
its bright carpet, on which his clay-clogged boots and dripping
garments left a muddy, as well as a watery track. "All right," I