school-time by Mr. Bairnsfather, who occasionally diversified reproof with "palmies." Not a day passed in which Tam did not receive his palmies, till the wonder was that his hands did not become completely indurated under the application. Mr. Bairnsfather had a natural repulsion to pauper scholars, and to Tam in particular among them. Tam was palmied for being too late for school, though others were sometimes later than he, and would slink into their places without attracting any unpleasant notice from the dominis; but then these were the sons of substantial farmers or artisans, whose fees were regularly paid, and of whose hospitality Mr. Bairnsfather occasionally partook. On one occasion, and one only, Tam was palmied for arriving too early, and presumptuously resting himself on the doorstep of the schoolhouse till it was opened. He was palmied for slowness, and this he certainly was guilty of, though the palmies did not seem to improve it. In winter he was palmied for a chronic cold he had in his head, which made him snivel when reading his lesson-Ailie's cot was woefully lamp in winter, and his straw bed was in the dampost corner of it. And he was palmied also for not contributing a peat to the stove, which peat his mother refused to give him, and which, having a tender conscience, he dared not steal. He had to bear the additional punishment of being never permitted to approach the stove, though his poor naked feet, blue with cold, might have moved even Mr. Bairnsfather to compassion. In short, any excuse served for punishing Tam.

Tam's only quiet bit of the day, indeed, was between his return from school and his mother's return from her work. In summer he had generally two hours of peace, during which the much-enduring boy manifested a willingness to help old Ailie, and an ability to "crack" with her that the old woman fully appreciated, and which she rewarded by protecting him from his mother's viperous tongue and ruthless fists as much as, in her feebleness, she possibly could.

"There's no a better callant, mem, to be found in the parish," she said to the minister's wife; "he'll rin ony errand for me. I've seen him gang out wi' his bare feet in the snaw, puir fellow, just to fill my water stoups because I was stiff and sair wi' the theumatiz; and he'll rise in the morning, that will he, and do ony turn to spare me before he gangs to the schule. They say the puir laddie is unco' put upon there; but he says little aboot it, for oh! he's a patient crature, as truly he needs to be, baith at hame and elsewhere."

dung stupid wi' his mither's and the dominie's flyting and banging."

Wonderfully patient and contented the boy was under treatment that would have soured and morally ruined three-fourths of his school companions. These schoolfellows, though they saw and probably condemned the brutal treatment he experienced from the "maister," could not always resist flinging a stone after the poor boy themselves. While he was proceeding on his solitary walk home, many a time was the cry raised after him, "Faitherless Tam! faitherless Tam!" which mysterious reproach, scarcely understood by the boys themselves, and suggested by remarks of their elders, began in course of time to work slowly and persistently in his mind.

"Where was his faither? and what for had everybody a faither but him? and why did the laddies cry that after him? Wee Jeau Tasker's faither was dead, he knew, for he had seen the burial; but they never cried after her for it. Maybe his faither was dead, and buried too." And acting upon this new idea, Tam might have been seen for some days thereafter, during the school play-hour, examining every headstone in the churchyard; but without avail, for the name of Tamson or Thomson, common as it is, was not to be deciphered on any of them. But another idea now occurred to Tam, suggested by his observing how many graves wanting headstones were to be found in the burial-ground. No memorial had been erected to his father's memory-he had never heard of his mother's absence from the parish --and Tam felt certain this must be the disgrace; no "Sacred to the memory of," etc., to show that his father had once existed.

"Mither," he was forced under the bewilderment and pressure of these unusual conjectures to say to her one evening, as he was sitting in the comfortless corner to which he was always condemned, that he might be out o' folks' way"; "mither, what for is there no a headstane in the kirkyard to my faither's memory?

The question was so unexpected and extraordinary that Tibby for some moments could only gasp and stare at him; Ailie herself, to whom Tibby had not been more communicative about her private affairs than to others, was dumbfounded by it, and thought the boy was fey.

"Because, ye see," continued Tam, gravely, and as if arguing the point with himself, "Jean Tasker's fuither's dead and buried, but he has a headstane; and it maun be because mine has nane that the laddies are aye cryin' Faitherless Tam! faitherless Tum!' after me: I dinna like it, mither, and I wish ye would put up a headstane."

"I'll faither ye and headstane ye baith, ye langleggit, senseless gomeril that ye are," shrieked Tibby, making a furious dart at the boy. "Tak yo that, and that, and that, to learn ye to haud your illscrapit tongue after this," raining down a shower of blows upon him as she spoke.

The portion of the Bible read the following day at school was in the book of Esther, and contained the description of the hanging of Haman on the gallows he had prepared for Mordecai, which made a considerable impression upon Tam's imagination. He learnt at the same time that to be hanged on a ? ? ?

to him.

"Was my faither ever hangit, Ailie?" he took the first opportunity after his return home of asking at the old woman in a frightened whisper, though his mother at that time was at least half a mile off. "Eh, sirs! haud your tongue, bairn, or ye'll bring yoursell in for another licking, and ye get enough o' that at ony time!" exclaimed the old woman. "Hangit! na, na, naething o' that kind. Though mony as honest a man has been, I wouldna wonder, and he may hae been hanged for aught I can tell," murmured Ailie to herself in conclusion.

"I dinna ken what to make o' that bairn," said Ailie, when relating the boy's remarks to a neighbour; "he'll sometimes say the wisest auld-farrant things that ye ever heard, and at another time he'll be as simple as a babby."

If Tam's wit did not grow rapidly, as was generally thought, his legs did, and he had acquired his lifelong designation of "Lang Tam Tamson" while yet at school. This exuberant growth of his was one of Tibby's great grievances, for though the village tailor was strictly charged to make his corduroys of unusual longitude in the legs and arms, and to tuck them up so that they could be let down when necessity called for it, Tam was constantly outgrowing these precautions; and bitterly did his mother complain when forced to patch and eke. He was a healthy boy, however, but very spare and thin, for he never had much to nourish him. Porridge and "kirned" milk morning and night, and a piece of oatmeal cake for his dinner at the school playhour, were Tam's unvarying diet. He could have eaten more, doubtless, but no more being ever forthcoming, Tam's stomach contentedly adapted itself to its allotted quantity.

When Tam's schooling came to an end, his acquirements were about the average of village boys. He was a good reader, but an indifferent writer and counter. And considering the disadvantages to which he had been subjected, it said much for the boy's perseverance that he had attained so much.

Happy as a king was Tam when, escaped from the brutal rule of the "maister," he reigned as herd over Farmer Telfer's cattle for the (to him) munificent reward of sixpence a week and his victuals. Even the big "Bill" ceased to be an object of dread to him after the first few days. The bull acknowledged lawful authority in the person of Tam, and gave him as little trouble as he had ever himself given to those who bore rule over him. Tam had now abundance of leisure, and that part of it which was not spent in plaiting grenadiers' caps and children's rattles with the rushes which grew profusely in the neighbourhood, was occupied by him in reading the pocket Bible which his kind friend, the minister's wife, had presented to him, accompanied with much good advice, on his leaving school. No wonder that Tam, in after life, though often laughed at by his undiscerning neighbours for his simplicity, acquired among them the reputation of being, like Apollos, "mighty in the Scriptures."

Tam visited his mother on Saturday nights. He got a clean "sark" from her then, and she took possession of his. sixpence She never struck him now, but her tongue was as venomous and sharp as ever; and the boy's affections were given to old Ailie instead of to her He was become a favourite,

adroit fingers were always fashioning something curious, but with his master and mistress. His trustworthiness had soon become apparent; and as the farmer had been previously worried by a succession of bird-nesting and trap-setting herds, Tam's merit stood out in comparison. Treated with kindness by his employers, Tam would occasionally have the courage to beg a new-laid egg from his mistress for his old nurse, which he conveyed to her without his mother's knowledge.

Tam had a more comfortable bed now than ever he had had before, though it was only a rug in the straw loft over the byre, to which access was obtained by a ladder; but the straw in which he nestled was clean and dry, and Tam ceased to snivel after his change of residence. They fed him coarsely-Tam did not know experimentally the meaning of coarse and fine-but plentifully at the farmhouse; and Tam's appetite developed with his opportunities. And thereupon he took to growing with such perseverance and determination as showed how grateful a soil was being at last properly cultivated.

When my father and mother took the place of Dr. and Mrs. Bertie in the manse and parish, Tam was no longer a herd plaiting rushes, with one eye on his performance and another on his cattle, but a tall, strong young shepherd, on a sheep farm two miles from the manse, with hundreds of sheep to shear, mark, and watch over during the year. He had earned such a character for intelligence and fidelity in his vocation, that Tam would have been offered similar situations in plenty, if his master could have been so blind to his own interests as to have parted with him. Though Tam in some respects was considered simple by others-simple in regard to evil he certainly was-all agreed that he was both shrewd and thoughtful in character. They thought this inconsistent with his simplicity-the few who saw deeper and understood Tam best, could easily reconcile the two.

Tam was a householder now. A cottage of one apartment on the bank of the Tivie burn, some short distance from the more elevated farmhouse, was his home. He had dutifully taken his mother there to keep house for him after old Ailie's death, who bequeathed to him instead of to Tibby her old sticks of furniture. Among these was the three-legged stool which had been Tam's invariable seat in his sorely-tried childhood, and which must have been associated in his mind with many a harsh word and blow, as Ailie's statement was that Tibby's custom was to "knock the bairn off the bit creepie wi' a cuff on ae side o' the head, and to knock him on again wi' a cuff on the tither."

Tibby at fifty-seven could no more work as she had done. Like Ailie, she suffered much from rheu matism; but she could spin in the chimney corner and do the work of the house. Some people alleged that she had made a "stocking" for herself, having been thrifty and hard-living all her days; but if so, she kept it carefully concealed-none of it was ever forthcoming to help the humble housekeeping. Her temper did not improve with rest and and as age, she had fewer persons than formerly to discharge it on, it may reasonably be supposed that all Tam's natural and acquired patience was kept in full exercise. Few people cared to visit the cottage, which was remote from the public road; and probably the consciousness that she was disliked made the soured,

discontented woman more ungracious to those who, from charitable motives, did inquire for her at times. Among these was my mother. Her first sight of Tibby was in the kirk; for Tibby, notwithstanding her universal hatred to mankind, had been a constant kirk-goer all her days; and her thin, sharp, brown face, now wrinkled with eld" and vindictive tempers, attracted my mother's notice, as it peered inquisitively at her from one of the pews under the front gallery. My mother had only to inquire who the singular-looking little old woman who sat beside the remarkably tall young man was, to hear such stories of "flyting Tibby," including the surmises about Tam's parentage, as might have frightened the boldest from seeking her acquaintance. But she heard much also of Tam's dutifulness and patience, and she determined to venture.

Tam's cottage lay at the foot of the hills on the slopes of which he fed his flocks. It was low, strongly built, principally of unhewn stones without mortar, and thatched thickly with heather. The Tivie ran in front, and behind was a small rude garden redeemed from the hillside, surrounded by a rough stone fence, in which Tibby cultivated potatoes and lang kail. Two "skeps" of bees, placed close to the house wall, gathered their fine-flavoured honey from the heather blooms of the adjacent hills, and were a source of considerable profit to her.

Tibby was not savagely uncivil to my mother when she paid her visit; her ungraciousness was more passive than active. She invited her, though with some reluctance in her manner, to come in and sit down, and leading the way through a narrow entrance passage into the house, pointed to a chair, and then seating herself in silence opposite to her visitor, grimly waited, it seemed to the latter, to be interrogated; and when my mother, somewhat embarrassed by so chilling a reception, had recourse to that never-failing subject, the weather, she only drily responded, "Ay, ay, the day's weel enough,' as if determined to give no assistance to her in carrying on a conversation.

"You have a quiet dwelling here," said my mother, struggling against the discouragement; "but you must sometimes feel the want of neighbours, I should think."

"Neebors!" answered Tibby, with a sneer. "If ye had said I was lucky in the want o' them, yo❘ would hae spoken something like sense."

My mother was silenced. She was but newly come to the parish, and was not familiar with country people; besides, she was more than half afraid of Tibby.

"Ye're the minister's wifo-arena yo?" she asked, after a short pause, during which her sharp black eyes had freely scrutinised her visitor's dress and face.

My mother answered in the affirmative.

Weel, ye're pleasanter looking than the ane that was before ye," said Tibby, bluntly; "she likit to hao her spune in a' folks' brose, that did she. But will ye tell me what's brought ye here the day?"

"I want to get acquainted with my husband's people, Tibby," said my mother, smiling. "I hear you have got a very good son," she continued, giving a new, and she hoped more fortunate, direction to the conversation, which as yet had been carried on through difficulties.

"He micht be better and he micht be waur," was all that cantankerous Tibby would admit.

"I want to get acquainted with him too," said my mother.

"That's easy done," said Tibby, coolly. "Ye need only speel the hill at the back o' the housethere, ye can see it through the window before ye; and by the time ye get to the tap o't ye'll be sure to get a sight o' him-he's easily seen, there's sae muckle o' him-lying or sitting on the grass wi' his dowgs beside him, and mair likely than no reading his Bible, for if he's no gude it's no frae ignorance o' the Scriptures. Ye had better be ganging, I think, for the day's wearin' on, and I'm busy wi' my housewifeship, and canna waste time in clavering."

My mother, of course, took her dismissal, rather relieved to get out of the grim old woman's company. She was curious to see the son of so strange a person, and having the whole afternoon before her, for my father was attending a meeting of Presbytery, she did climb the hill, and soon descried Tam on its other side, with his sheep feeding all around and his dogs stretched beside him, which soon warned him of his approaching visitor. Tam was seated on a little turfy hillock. He received my mother's visit shyly, but with evident pleasure; for the parish had already sat in judgment on the minister's wife, and had approved of her. She had a long talk with him, and quite won his heart by her "sensible" conversation, and by the offer of a remedy for his mother's rheumatism, for which he was to call at the manse. "She's the right kind of woman yon," he said to his master and mistress in the evening; "she doesna talk to a man like a printed book, or as if she knew everything better than himsell, but just cracks doucely and fairly. I'm thinking she'll be a real good wife to the minister."

THE EARLY GEOGRAPHY OF THE BRITISH ISLES.

BY HENRY WALKER, F.G.S.

THE fringe of submerged forests which lies around certain parts of our coast, the relics of churches and villages and ancient monuments over which the sea now rolls as it encroaches farther upon the land, the raised beaches (found high above the present sea-level), and the old coast-lines which the mariner finds beneath the waves (far in advance of the present shores), are now being understood in all their wonderful significance, and finding a place in our popular text-books and atlases. Henceforth these almost romantic phenomena of nature will form an opening chapter in the history of the British Isles. As we shall see, they lose nothing of their interest and charm by being brought down into the region of systematic physical geography.

These more novel aspects of physical geography have recently attracted to one of our London lecturerooms as many as eight or nine hundred boys and girls week after week on successive Monday afternoons. During the past winter, in a county town not fifty miles from London, the same subject has drawn together, for a series of evenings, not less than three hundred pupils from the various schools around. At the South Kensington Science Schools, too, the physical geography class for ladies is found to be the best attended of the series.

Let us now glance at some of the newer teachings