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There will be four posts (Part 1, 2, 3, & 4) for this group of diaries that I have belonging to Alexander Watson Dunlop. On our podcast, Diary Discoveries, we devoted 4 episodes to this man’s life. After we released them I received several requests saying they’d love to read the full transcript from his diaries, so what better place to put those complete transcripts, then here. You can also see even more photos from this group on our Diary Discoveries web site on the links I’ve provided below.

The years spent at the University of Glasgow are full of all kinds of interesting experiences for Alexander, many of which include his fascinating relationships with different women. He also becomes life long friends with the Love family who owned an estate called Geilsland located in North Ayrshire, Scotland. Alexander writes all about his grand social life at the Geilsland mansion with the kind of writing that makes the reader feel as though they were in the room with him. And his writing is simply wonderful, especially from a man not yet twenty years old. One of my favorite entries that you will read is an amazing train of thought where Alexander considers his own future and reasons out his place in the world. Enjoy reading, real stories, about real people in their words….

“Somerset Place, Glasgow, 31 of Oct. 1881

I am decidedly of opinion that this days proceedings should be recorded. One thing of importance has happened. If I continue to write this as a diary, no more fitting time could have been chosen. Tomorrow the college session opens. It will be my fourth year, I hope the best year I have spent as yet in Gilmorehill (Campus at University of Glasgow), but the end of the session must tell that. First of all I wish to note that I have changed my hand, I mean my style of writing. Formerly I used to write in what is known as a back hand or straight up and down. Whether I continue this or not we shall see. I am certainly not good at the new one as yet.

The last fortnight has been a gay one. On this day two weeks ago a large party of us went out to Woodilee to see James. We had tea, saw through the place, then a dance at night. Margorie and Bella Davidson, two Misses Gardner and Mr. Gardner, Miss and Mr. McLelland, Agnes Watson, Lina, Willie and I were all there. This was the occasion of my introduction to a new house, the Gardners of Montrose St. I went home with them and was asked back the following week, went found it was a small dance. Enjoyed it immensely, nice people. I have been to Drinnan’s also and had a dance there. Besides with the company in our own house we had sufficient to have dancing every night carried on till 12-2 and even 4 one morning. All the people are away now, thank goodness.

However to come to today. Johnnie left early this morning for Sheffield. This is the first time he has left the house for a situation, at least the first time he has left to be so far away and not to be back for such a length of time. From the time at which my memory first was in operation, has Johnnie been my bed fellow. We were always friends. He trusted greatly to me; I trusted greatly to him. What a blank is where Johnnie once was. Tonight he will be sleeping in his new place! It is now about two. I wonder how he likes it. We shall hear. Jack and Willie Love came in to see him off. We all went down to the station. Willie Drinnan was there also. He will be away six months. He passed his 3^rd Professional examination a short time ago. He got the results on the last day. Lots of teasing the poor beggar got about that exam. When coming up from Church on the Sunday before the results were out, we met professor Joe Coates. Coates gave Johnnie a gracious smile and lifted his hat graciously. Johnnie ceased not to talk of that smile for days. “Do you think it meant ‘your all right’ or what do you think it did mean?” Ever of a doubtful disposition, at one time he was hopeful, at another despondent. When we drank his health on the news of his success, ‘Coate’s smile’ was also toasted. Johnnie only looked radiant, much too happy to find fault with anybody or anything. May he enjoy his new place. Mrs. Love came in this afternoon, and went with Jack to see Henry Irving and Ellen Lerry in ‘The Merchant of Venice.’ Jack was greatly pleased with himself being in his dress suit. I was at the Royalty last week and saw them in the same piece. Espie dropped in to tell us how he had got on today in his Examination and also to ask me to read with him. I read the translation of the Trachiniae to him, ‘Tonight is Halloween.’ We were burning nuts and spaying fortunes with white of egg in a wine glass.

This is a very good commencement or beginning to my diary. As it is now past two and I have written all I have to say, I will just take a few extra puffs and then to bed. Willie has given me a fill of most execrable black twist, I can’t keep it lighted.”

“Tuesday 1^st, Nov. 1881

I rose this morning about half past nine o’clock. At 12 I went up with Jack and Willie Love to the University. As usual the opening proceedings were noisy. We meet in the Chapel. The organist plays our favorite tunes and we sing to them. When the Professors came in preceded by the pompous Janitor with the mace, we rose and sang Rule Britannia, then the National Anthem. The Professors remaining meanwhile standing. When Principal Laird commenced to speak, he was interrupted by the singing of ‘He’s a jolly good fellow.’ He intimated that he would postpone his opening address until Saturday (hear, hear, and great laughter). His Latin prayer was applauded. During his short speech he was interrupted by sneers and occasionally by most laughable remarks. Certainly the sneering was most insolent and vulgar, but the remarks were generally good and such as to convulse the audience.

Mrs. Love went away tonight with the 7-15 train. I went with her to the station. Coming back thence I went down to the Church to hear one of a course of ‘Science Lectures’ now being delivered there. Martin Luther was the subject. Dr. Logan Aitkman handled it well enough as an essay, the parts were good but rather bare of thought. However thought in such a subject might have taken the form of a sermon. I was sitting in our usual seat at the back of the area. In the front seat of the gallery I saw Miss Drinnan, Miss Proudfoot, Netta Wilson, Nelson and Willie Drinnan. Agnes Wilson was in the choir which sang a hymn or two during the lecture. We gathered when we came out. I shook hands with them all but scarcely spoke. Agnes went back for something. I waited for her thus allowing the rest to go on in advance. When she had come out we walked on smartly and soon shot ahead of the others, passing them without speaking. I recount these various circumstances because I think they had a bearing on after conduct. I don’t think Miss Drinnan was angry that I did not speak to her. It seems conceited of me to say this but such notions will occur to people and besides no one is intended to see this. Agnes and I got behind again. When we came to Woodlands Road, where Miss Proudfoot separated, she wanted to go the little bit along herself, but Willie left Netta with me and went after her. Miss Drinnan without turning around or bidding goodnight walked right on with Nelson. This I thought very unusual. When Willie came back I turned back home with the Wilson’s not going any further in the direction of the Drinnan’s. The manner of Miss Drinnan leaving us was as I have said unusual. I have never known her to do such a thing before. Only on Saturday night I was in their house and she paid me very flattering attention as she has always done. I don’t mean that she is in any way sweet to me. Such a thought would be an insult to her. She never would lead in such a thing. Her spirit would not allow her. But I have fancied that she pays as much attention to what I say as she does to what anybody else says. I was going to add more but I find that I have not yet (this next part between the * he has crossed out, see photo below) *got yet properly into the style of diary writing, with that style in which you write down*. I am afraid got into the way of writing down on paper my innermost thoughts. The next time, however, I see her, I will find out if there is anything the matter or if there is, the cause of it. I have been tremendously prosy tonight and I have written in most despicable English. I do not think this is a good time to write such a thing as a diary. One feels as solemn as an owl on a tombstone, the result of this solemnity being to make you write on at nothing, just to blather. However I find in the very writing of the complaint I am doing what I complain of. It is now past 12. I have to be up early tomorrow morning, a few extra puffs and then to bed.”

“Sunday 6^th Nov. 1881

I last wrote on Tuesday night. Wednesday, Thursday, Friday were very much alike. I got up about ¼ past 7, went to college, in time for classes, wrote out my lectures when I came home, studied, at night Jack and Willie were generally down here. I will not say anything just now about the Professors under whom I am this year. Later on perhaps when I know them better. Yesterday I got up a little after 10 o’clock, did not wash, simply attired myself in dressing gown and after breakfast set to work. Continued working until after 5, then went out to buy a book. Entirely forgot Principal Laird’s opening address, will get it however in pamphlet form. At night I went up to Jack’s lodgings in Woodlands Rd. Espie has passed his examination in Classics. Such a thing was meant to be celebrated. Jack had a supper. We ordered in a dozen of beer. Our host got greatly abused about that supper, not being in time. It was not put on the table till nearly eleven o’clock. We hastened through with it and came to the toasts. Jack proposed Espie, the speech was characteristic, so was Espie’s reply. Then I proposed Jack. In the short space of about half-an-hour we had managed through our dozen of beer. I think it was in all of our heads. Espie trotted off home about ¼ past 11. I waited and had a smoke with the brothers. Our conversation in some way turned round to me in relation to the rest of the family of Loves. It seems that while in Arran this year I had been considered rude. I was not exactly well and Jack’s sisters being accustomed, I daresay, for the past few years to treat me as a boy and as one of themselves could not take in the fact that I might be changing a little as I grew up. Certain it is that I deemed certain things which formerly would in no way have ruffled me, impertinent interference. They thought I was getting cross. I remember one time being a little rude to Kate Hart because she interfered with me in a matter with which I thought she had nothing to do. The other fellows sided with me and said I was quite right, but the girls said, not to me but to Jack, that I was rude to her without cause. However enough of this. I had simply determined to let them in future have a great deal less of my company because I thought I had not been dealt fairly with by those friends whom I had liked above all other friends. Last nights discussion however has done me a lot of good. It has shown me that I am of too jealous a disposition, and that if I imagined I am not properly understood, I cannot be understood unless by myself making myself so. That sentence is perhaps a little incoherent. What I mean is that I have formerly taken too little trouble to please, that not succeeding as I wished I stopped, exerting myself no further. I will say no more. It will probably come all right soon. Willie walked over with me last night. I got in about ½ past twelve and immediately went to bed.”

“Tuesday 15^th, Nov. 1881.

I am afraid this cannot be called a diary. It ought rather to be designated notes. Nine days have passed since I last wrote on this sheet. What has passed in that time? I will try to remember a few things. It was on Monday afternoon that Jack called in to shew me a new pair of boots he had got. He had got new gloves, new clothes, and he ended by saying that he was going to get a new hat and that he had forestalled me in everything. I determined that he would not in the matter of a hat. Next day, Tuesday, I called on McAuley, the hatter. He said he had a splendid fashionable hat, a half quinea one which he said I would get cheap as he had got it cheap being an odd one. Not an odd one in the sense of a droll one, but an odd one of a set. I had got no leave to buy a hat but his was too ‘inductive.’ I took it home with me and straightway went up to Jack and chagrined him. Next day he bought his hat. He is not at all pleased with it. He paid more for it than I did for mine and in proportion it is as a halfpenny dip to the Electric Light. He is as spiteful as a viper with ten tons of venom to the square inch. He tried feebly to assert that the style of hat he has bought suits him and that my kind would not. All the same if he got a chance of disposing of that unfortunate hat and of buying a new one he would pimp at it like a hen at a gooseberry skin. On the same day that I bought the hat, Tuesday, I met Jeannie Hart from Paisley. She is taking lessons in German and French from Schlom la & Baume (?). She comes in to Glasgow every afternoon. I walked in to the station with her and was introduced to her friend Hope Kerr, who seems a very nice girl. At night I went to the lecture in the Church delivered by the Rev. Dr. Wallace. It was about Eastern travel, very humorous. Dr. Wallace has a peculiarly expressive style of delivery. Sometimes while illustrating a point he would disappear entirely from view. One time he turned completely round, embraced and kissed the pulpit – very funny. I walked home with Agnes Wilson.

On Wednesday night I went up to the Drinnan’s. We had a rubber or two of Whist. Spent a most enjoyable evening. Thursday Night, Netta Wilson was here. Jack and Willie Love also. Had a little dance. Friday Night, the Literary Society. Jack took part in a Symposium along with Winthrope and Watson. The subject was Is Britain on the Decline. (Is Britain in Consumption). Jack said she was, of course, dealing fiercely with the radicals and especially with the People’s William. R. S. Brown was in full force. I think that fellow would postpone all other, I had almost said amusements, to attend Gladstone’s funeral. I spoke a little making ample use of Edward Laird’s lectures. I worked hard all Saturday and a lot of Sunday. We had an examination yesterday morning (Monday) in Natural Philosophy.

Tonight I went to ___(?)Church to hear the Rev. Mr. Matheson’s lecture on ‘A Trip to America!’ It was not nearly so good as the last Tuesday’s one. There was an old man sitting in front of me to the right with whom I was greatly amused. He had a peculiar face – shut his eyes and when he opened them discovered to view two immense, derby white orbs. I soon found that Teenie was observing the same individual. Each I am sure could have shied something at him. I longed told him have my gloves on his ear, it would have surprised him a little. He was one of these sordid old men who was always bent on having their penn’orth (this means variant form of pennyworth), one of these old coves who sit vacantly with their fly traps open – not understanding anything, but who always laugh whenever the lecturer condescends to make smiling use of a Scotch phrase. If the Essayist chance to say skedaddle they smile if he tells them of meeting in a foreign country a band of his countrymen singing ‘Slap Bang, here we are again’ they roll in their seats with their faces contorted and you see that they are intending to laugh. Between such periods they take snuff, blow their noses furiously into a red cotton duster or spit on the floor. They have an immense appreciation of the pathetic, drawn more from the lecturer’s manner than from his words. An illusion to a mother weeping frantically over the dead child whose demise she has hastened by bad treatment will make them draw their features into representation of a tomb and shed sobs. I walked home with Miss Drinnan. We did not go straight but strolled about for half-an-hour, the whole party of us. Our conversation was generally about ladieshats and the beauty of the stars. Miss Drinnan in not allowed to go in for the second part of the University Local Examinations. The Doctor has forbidden her. I think he did right. She ought not to harm herself one bit for any amount of Locals, neither should any girl. Confound their exams. They can surely be well-educated and make good wives without grinding certain portions of certain books. If the girl has a taste for study or general reading she will study and read and to profit, and the Local examinations will only place in her hands a certificate of having learnt certain things. It will be a mere sham. If the girl has no taste for reading, she will gain by passing the examination a certificate which together with the whole thing and herself is a fraud. Granted that women’s province (if not in every case) aim is to get married. Will a man ask for her certificates of Locals? Will he not rather if he wants a cultured women judge if she be cultured by his own conversation with her. It may be said that the passing of the examination means the culture, but the foolish and stupid girl with a certain amount of grinding can pass with as good an appearance as the naturally clever girl. It may be a good training and may turn their minds to studies they might not otherwise have thought of pursuing, but still they ought not to need a driving to such subjects as are set down in these papers. Their own wish to guide them would, or ought I should think, to be enough to guide them. I am not sure that I have put down clearly my views on this subject. I have not made any effort of thought but simply put down what was nearest to the top in my mind. What I mean is that the clever girl will be clever and will be accepted as such without any certificates of having passed the “Locals”, the stupid girl will be stupid and seen to be stupid no matter whether she holds the certificate or not. This is a long divergence. I must be diverging to bed. It is about 12 o’clock. I have been working pretty hard of late and am a little tired. No session that I have passed has been so stiff as this session gives pleasant promise of being. However I am determined to do my duty this year if I never did it before. With this determination I will say my ‘course.’”

“Thursday 17^th, November 1881

My dear Amse. (Not sure what he means but this could be an abbreviation for Amuse or Amusement.)

I know this ought instead of Thursday 17^th, would be Friday 18^th. It is now 4 a.m. but you persist in writing as if you hadn’t had enough of it. You have written all day nearly. Well if you won’t hear anything I have got to say I’ll leave you, yours truly. I wrote nothing here yesterday or rather last night, the reason being that I was too tired. Last night I had tea with Jack – had also a row with him. Lots of impertinence flying on either side – all right again this morning. Talking of this morning reminds me of a fact worth recording. I have never been late this session, Glory be the Saints. I have tremendously busy all this blessed day. I wrote out my notes after I came from college and then set to a lot of questions which I give in tomorrow or rather this morning. I have but newly finished them. Of course I was subject to some interruption, no object (note pun), James came in about nine. He has been away at Ayr seeing Agnes Watson. He is a cool cuss Jim. He proposed to Agnes that day we were out at a dance at Woodilee. His proposing marriage to her was nothing exceedingly out of the way remarkable but the beggar did it in the middle of a dance, the whole big hall being crowded. No one noticed anything. Of course there was no demonstration, no hugging or anything of that kind, for the which lack, I deeply sympathies with him. I did not imagine a thing like that could be done without some effervescing of feeling, an ebullition, so to speak. But he has to be excused or exculpated on the ground – no not the ground – you bet he won’t stoop – but on acquiring the knowledge that he had no other chance. While he was sitting here in the parlour talking to mother and Teenie, I was grinding in my bedroom and while I was grinding in my bedroom I heard the first bar of ‘There is a Happy Land’, I went out to see where the Happy Land was or who inhabited it and found standing up against the railings a girl in an ulster and tears. Something had happened (a goals). I found it was Agnes Wilson with her brother Robert. It was Robert who had whistled and Agnes in the process of trying to haul him back had twisted her foot besides having contrived to have it tramped on. I saw she was really in pain and offered her my arm. It was a little time before she would move; she would not come in to our house, she said she would rather try to get across the street home. Aided by Robert and me we managed nicely. When we had got inside the close we carried her in the approved ambulance fashion to the top of the stair, where I left them. I am certain her ankle is not sprained. She has had a sore foot and the tramp on it together perhaps with a slight twist was what was wrong with it. But it was bad enough in faith. It must have been painful. I hope it will be better with a little rest by tomorrow. The mention of tomorrow again brings up the time ½ past 4. Don’t you think Amse, you had better get to bed.”

“Sunday 20^th, Nov. 1881.

Nothing worth noting up to last night. Jack and I were down to tea at Ormond’s. Little O. stays in Partick and a deuced long way off it is. There were at the house a Miss Barker about who more hereafter, a Mr. Barker, brother of the Miss B., Miss Mc Kraith who comes from Australia and is placed in a boarding school here and Mr. Berkeley. I have often wondered what kind of a girl Ormond’s sister was. I felt certain she would be nice because I know she wrote a lot of Ormond’s notes for him. She is very nice, not much like Ormond, bigger and stouter. We had a very nice evening – cards and music, but no dancing – rooms being rather small. When we were coming Miss Barker opened a conversation with Jack commencing with football, but leading up to Aberdeen. She had been struck with his name – not with his fist – She turned out to be Old Barker’s daughter – not unnatural – whose else daughter would she be. Old Barker was the man who had the boarding school which Willie was at. He is not Rector of the High School. That is a little incident. I got a letter from Duncan yesterday. I was telling him that I was going to commence something of this sort. He says he thinks he will do likewise and says that it would be queer to exchange diaries 40 years hence, if we see that time.

Today, in the afternoon, Jack and Willie came to church with us. Dr. Wilson was at his habit of shouting. They had dinner with us. Netta and Miss Drinnan came in to go with Teenie to the bible class, we all went together. When we came out we had a walk around. Miss Drinnan has got a new hat so had Netta. Miss Drinnan calls hers “The Casin!” (Casin is Casino in French). I should be inclined to call it “the bath or the cradle” It is a tremendously big one of a greenish colour, kind of beaver I believe, and has big feathers in it. It really suites her, but she looks small under it. I teased her somewhat remarking that she didn’t carry an umbrella now, the night was a little gusty and I offered to relieve her of her muff that she might have both hands free to manage the hat, also making sundry offers of string etc. All of which she took in good part, she was conscious of the merits of that hat, but I believe that someday in a fit of joy she’ll dance on it. She ought to preserve it, however, as she might hire it but as an awning for some outdoor meeting on Glasgow Green. Netta has also been somewhat unfortunate in her hat. She chose it in gas light. It is a blue, Oxford blue, plush, very neat and well made, but rather light. I daresay she and Miss Drinnan will have a Mutual Admiration Society, limited. It is after 12 and I have some work to do for the Natural Philosophy exam tomorrow.”

“Friday 25^th, Nov. 1881

Tonight I am fearfully bothered with a headache. I wouldn’t write anything here were it not that I can do nothing else. Tuesday was one of the lecture nights. I went to hear it. It was Chemistry of Air and Water. Newman is by no means a good speaker. I am damned if I know what I did on Wednesday. Oh what a damned fool I am. I was up at the Drinnan’s and spent the jolliest evening of the week. We had 1^st of all cards (there were besides me two Misses Craig). This pleased Willie. He’s not allowed to dance, but has a passionate fondness for cards; he plays on all occasions. We had adjourned to the big parlour where was a nice fire. After a game or two Miss Drinnan proposed and I seconded the proposition that we should stop cards. The piano was opened. Miss Craig gave us ‘I Shot an Arrow into a Wood’. It was not badly shot. She afterwards played a Waltz which I danced with Miss Drinnan. The playing was occasionally very bad. I am certain and danced into myself. Willie Drinnan made it worse by speaking to her but I got so riled I asked him to desist. The same girl afterwards played ‘The Pirates of Penzance’ Quadrilles. Whenever she didn’t particularly know any piece she brought her hand slap down promiscuously on the keys. But I ought to be, and am grateful to her for playing. She would not dance. She said in a very complimentary way to me that she could dance a waltz with very few gentlemen. However I liked her and her sister very much. They are well-bred, well educated girls. After our dance we had supper. Coffee and jam to it. Johnnie used to tell me he got beer but I never do. I am well pleased with this however, not that I don’t like beer —O no — but I wouldn’t wish to take it every night I was up. I took home the other two girls and arrived here at about 20 past eleven.

Last night father and mother were over at Mr. Thomas Millan’s, the Established Church minister in Crosshill. Netta was down at tea and Jack and Willie Love were in. I went up to try to get Miss and Willie Drinnan to come down. Willie was out, Miss Drinnan just going to spend the evening somewhere. I was damned angry. I tried meanly to get her to leave that house early and to come to ours. She said she would try, but she never came and I was damned sorry, because I enjoy a Waltz with her and I know she enjoys Waltzes. However I had a Waltz and a Highland Schottische with Netta and good they were especially the last. I know now what to dance with her. Tonight I was at the Literary Society. Uprill was prelecting on ‘Fair Trade v Free Trade.’ Of course he went in for Free Trade, but I had an immense written statement of 7 pages on Fair Trade and I think it told somewhat. Uprill’s essay as an essay was the best I have heard, read this session. He has good ability. I am awfully tired.”

“Friday 17^th, December 1881.

Here I am in the smoking room, having produced my manuscript, which ought to be somewhat stiff from being out of use for sometime. I don’t know what to begin with. I have so many things to tell. Ah. How could there have been a doubt about what was most important. Lat week I bought a new tie, it is very fashionable – one of the broad kind colour, new red with bluish threads of the new shade of that colour running through it also picked out with yellow – the whole forming a beautiful combination though one mightn’t think so from hearing it described. I have also got a pair of eye-glasses and they are beauties. I paid 7/6 for them. Father said that was too much but I assured him that that was the regular price. At that time I did not know myself that they could be got much cheaper. Father thinks I am extravagant. That notion won’t in anyway be dispelled when he gets a little extra paper account from Lyon. I have been carrying on a wordy strife with Duncan as to whose paper is best. His is blue foreign note, mine was ordinary white. I maintained that mine was more gentlemanly then his because his savours of an office and office paper should not be introduced into private correspondence. He however says his is a better quality than mine, but he won’t be able to say so now for I bought a packet of the finest (white of course) and envelopes to match, and acquainted him with these various facts in my letter.

It is Sunday now but I was out one night at the Moyes’s, had a good dance, very nice people there. One girl, Meiklereid is exception. She is not very old though – about Teenies age – good looking – good figure, but a perfect doll – she behaves like a child. E. G. (for example)when Andrew Moyes is looking at some wee figure she has got out of a cracker, she screws herself about, puts on a tortured face and implores him in heart rending tones to give it back. Minnie Moyes herself is very nice – she is an awful one to talk, but not always idly. She is well educated, very well, but more especially in the usual school form. Of course that is the correct thing at first but I like far better to speak to a girl with thorough knowledge of the English language and what has been written in it than to a girl who has a smattering of Latin and Greek and a surface knowledge of a few of the facts of some of the sciences. That small surface knowledge is generally only sufficient to make her troublesome and conceited and very often a bore instead of entertaining. Slight knowledge has almost always this effect with women, especially in medicine we see this. It almost always makes them instead of a help a nuisance. Perhaps I am prejudice, but I have seen something of this, and I know of some cases where women’s slight knowledge, being the base of further assumption, has entailed a good deal of suffering, in one case death. However I was taking of Minnie Moyes. What I have said in no way applies to her. She is not one of the surface knowledgers ie. she does not shew it. She is beginning just now to read Thackeray. I had a long talk at supper time with her about “Vanity Fair.”

She looks on that book with an intelligent eye, like most women, but in a far less degree, she dislikes Amelia Sedley. The cause of this dislike in women towards Amelia is just because she is so natural. She has a lover, is proud of it, although the possession of the love of a George Osborne is not worth much. Of course she is blind to his many faults, the greatest of which is self conceit and selfishness, but what woman was there ever who was not so blind to the faults of the man whom she truly loved. Amelia is occasionally inclined to be a little tearful but she likes a good supper – she likes to dress well – she likes to be admired and she likes to have her lover admired. In fact she is a true natural English girl. This is a digression. I will not go into the characters of this book any further, but simply say they are all true. The unselfish awkward Dobbin, the stupid, indulgent army officer, the sharp wide awake Becky, all are good.

I have mentioned in these pages some lectures given in the Church. They are finished now. McGregor Robertson’s on the ear was the last and best. He went greatly into sound and illustrated it with the tuning forks etc. the usual thing. During his whole lecture he scarcely looked at his paper. He is a splendid lecturer – makes everything so clear – so unlike Newman who talked in a low voice of inverse ratios – squares of cubes etc. all too working class congregation.

On Saturday morning we had an exam in Moral Philosophy. I did very well but it is of the night before I am going to speak. Jack and Willie Love were down in the evening at the Society. We all had supper and it was afterwards determined that these two should stay with me all night and so ensure Jack’s being in time, his landlady is a ruffian who never wakens him. Instead of working we sat till as late or rather an early hour about 2 until we were all getting sleepy. Jack and Willie said they would go to bed – I was going to work. The smoking room fire was out – so was the parlour one. I wanted to work in the latter room so had to carry coals from the dinning room. I carried in one shovel full and was in the act of carrying another big lump across the dinning room when it fell scattering all over. Immediately arose a tremendous smell of burning. All over were bright burning patches. I ran at the bits with the shovel and hoisted them into the grate and hearing Jack and Willie in the lobby called on them to come and help. Jack wonderful to relate asked no question but served on another shovel. Willie picked the coals up with his fingers. I got the gas lighted and surveyed the scene of destruction as the newspapers say. Various holes of the diameter of one to 2 ½ inches were seen around and we only now discovered one more piece burning brightly under the table. It was hid by the cloth. I was conscious that I had done something which wouldn’t in the guvnor’s eyes appear praise worthy. I consoled myself with a little brandy, indeed I felt needing something of the kind. We went to the parlour after the floor had been thoroughly inspected and brushed, and there sat until after four discussing the damage etc. As Jack said, we instead of grinding for our exam, were perfectly unmanning ourselves. Next morning we felt the benefit of sitting up smoking. Our brains were neither clear nor capable. However we got on very well. One of the girls discovered the carpet that day. Mother was in rather a wase. But to cut the history short, she told father at night. He, good soul, never mentioned the thing to me which was far more or rather far less than I expected. He went to the insurance and got 4 pounds compensation. He preferred that to getting a new carpet as it was an especially good one to begin with and could be quite easily repaired.” “Geilsland,

Sunday Dec. 25^th, 1881 Christmas Day.

“I cannot tell any of the incident of last week except that I have got a new suit of tweeds, rare sporting cloth, capital fit, all tight. I arrived here at Geilsland last night about nine. There were a few people here dancing in the Drawing room. I went straight up to my old room and commenced to dress. I was just going to wash when Carry came up to see why I was so long – she went away and in a little came Jane, as I was on my knees brushing my hair in candle light, a very difficult operation. When I got down I found in the Drawing, 4 of Jack’s Threepwood cousins. John the great shooter, famous at Wimbledon, his brother Tom and sisters Maggie and Luvinie. We had rare dancing till about one o’clock, notwithstanding, it was Sunday morning. Tom, Maggie and Luvinie had to go home all the way to Threepwood, 3 miles and a rainy night. John stayed. The girls went to bed, we of course retired to the Nursery to smoke. Conversation turned on Mesmerism. Espie told some story about a thing which was like Mesmerism. (Mesmer’s theory was that all living things, including humans, animals, and vegetables, possess an invisible natural force that could be activated by magnetized objects and manipulated by trained people. He believed that he could control the flow of this fluid to heal patients.)John of Threepwood was lying on the sofa apparently believing all that was said when suddenly raising himself on his elbow he said to Espie, “All hearsay man. I don’t believe a word of it.” Espie thus shortly brought up, got angry and averred that it was a fact. “O yes” says John, “if you believe all you hear you’ll eat all you see.” “Oh no” says Espie, but he was effectually reduced, he didn’t give us any more facts about Mesmerism. Went to bed about 2 a.m.”

“Monday, December 26^th, 1881

I did not go to church yesterday. We passed the day quietly. After dinner we smoked in the Dining Room until teatime. John off Threepwood believes in Phrenology. (the detailed study of the shape and size of the cranium as a supposed indication of character and mental abilities.) He has studied the subject somewhat. He read all our heads immediately after dinner. Mine he said was a specially good one. I had great causality, ie. reasoning power. Fair individuality, strong calculation and invention. Jack lacked this latter quality. The reading of my head has somewhat increased my belief in Phrenology. The operator hit off our several characters very accurately.

When the girls had retired we smoked and told stories. John giving some Wimbledon experiences. At night we sang Christmas hymns. Today, Monday, was spent well. In the morning we had Alpine climbing which consists in climbing all over the house by aid of a rope. We did the Matterhorn, a very difficult and were it not for the rope, very dangerous climb. We had to hurry dressing or we would have been late to dinner. I went to the door of my room to speak to someone – heard a heavy tread in the hall and the sound of a well known voice. One of the girls came rushing up the stair with a look of consternation on her face. Mr. Love had come home. He had gone to a Hydropathic to stay as all thought till the end of the week.

This rather reduced the spirits of the dinner party. It was not nearly so lively as that of last year. Mr. Love was at home then. It wasn’t that. It was the belief that he wouldn’t be home until the end of the week so suddenly chattered. I did not make my speech this time, as I did last time to the infinite amusement of all present. At night we had dancing, but no mistletoe, ie. as a general thing. I principally wanted Molly to come out but of course after her illness this summer she has to take very great care. And the cold Hall would be rather severe for her to cool in. I was vastly disappointed but couldn’t of course help it. I took Carrie out to promenade in the hall, and kissed her under the mistletoe. At any rate the time didn’t go by without me holding it, although it was a great shame that it was not a general thing. But we have always held more loyally iconography night. I am aware this is a tremendously poor Christmas entry, but if I take notes next year may I have to insert in these pages a most glowing description of rites and ceremonies. Today we also tried the theory akin to Mesmerism which Espie told us of. It didn’t do at all.”

“Tuesday 27^th, December 1881

We passed the forenoon as usual in exercises, as throwing the hammer, exercise on the bar, climbing etc. I had some letters to post, Espie and I went down to the town together. So by the bye did Jack. The Browns from the Manse were to be up in the evening – I therefore went to Mercer and had my hair trimmed and a clean shave. We than went along to the Saracen Head and had refreshments after our walk. (I found out that Saracen Head means Public House or Pubs).

I had the pleasure by means of a big lighted match of blackening the nose of a small bust of Gladstone. The figure had a most comical appearance. We started for home feeling particularly lively and able to dance. When we got to Geilsland the Browns had arrived. We scrambled hastily upstairs to dress, the girls coming or sending messages every other minute to request us to hurry, but we dressed calmly feeling that no gentleman should hurry his toilet. Of course in return the girls had told the Browns why we were so long that we were doing ourselves up, etc. At last we all got down, had tea first. I took Molly in, in fact I told her I did not wish to change my usual place and insisted on taking her. Besides I could assist her at the tea. Next to me sat Miss Janie Brown with a shockingly low bodied dress. Never in the course of my nineteen summers coexistence had I seen a dress like that. I had got notice that one had a peculiar dress on but I did not think it would be like this. After tea we went into the Drawing Room where everything was prepared for dancing except perhaps the fire, which Mrs. Love had insisted on having. Even in the library which was to be used as a retiring room there was an immense fire. Mrs. Love got much private abuse on the head of these fires. The dancing was very good. Only when I tried to Waltz with Miss Janie I might as well have tried to dance with a sack of coals. I couldn’t swing her round at all. After that I asked her for square dances. Miss Brown and Miss Connie were pretty good waltzers. Most of the round dances I danced with the house girls, I mean the girls of the house. In fact when I asked them for a square dance I was generally asked not to request them to dance until we had a round one. The three, Molly, Jane and Carry are exceedingly good waltzers. I have got their step so thoroughly that we never have the slighted hitch. I had splendid dances with them all but most with Molly. I suppose because I asked her often. She had once to refuse me and ask that I would dance that one with some other person. I protested but had to wait until the next waltz. I do not mean from this that I danced almost all with the family. I did not. Most by a good lot, especially in the earlier part of the evening were danced with the Browns. I insisted again at supper on taking in Molly. I did so but alas some confounded ruffian had taken my seat, ie. Molly had to sit at the head and some ignorant person had taken the seat next with his lady. It would have disturbed a few people to move although I would not have minded that much, only politeness demanded that I should rather forego my own wish than trouble other people. I had to go up the table considerably. However I was now next Carry which was meet to be enjoyed. I had great fun. I don’t mean that I made the glasses jingle by kicking the table or that I knocked Carry’s head into her glass as she drank or any other pleasant public joke, but merely that by conversation and company and everything I enjoyed myself immensely. After supper we had some more (supper, no dam it) dancing and carried it on until after two. Andrew Brown came for his sisters. He is a medical but whether degreed or not I don’t know. He is fat, big, dark, a big Roman nose. He has been badly behaved in his youth, very. Various stories are told about him. On one occasion, my informer told me, he brought two actresses out to the Loch at skating time. Of course actress is a name for anything. It was no uncommon thing to see him and his friend Hutton rolling in the gutter in Buchannan St. at an early hour. I believe he has picked up greatly within the last year or two. It was good to see him dancing a polka. We traversed the room in about four strides. However my description is long. The party broke up. We had a good liquor with Brown in the dining room before going.”

“Wednesday 28^th, Dec. 1881

Didn’t get up until nearly eleven, sauntered about all day doing little. Didn’t dance in the evening. It was spent well however in pleasant chatting round the fire, we being allowed to smoke.”

“Thursday, 29^th,

Alpine climbing – exercise – dancing in the evening – and here comes to be recorded an important event with a tremendous quarrel with Jack. I had noticed that on the previous evening and all during the day he had been in one of his nasty moods. I was dancing a Quadrille or Lancers with Agnes. He followed and tormented Agnes during the whole dance notwithstanding my request that he should stop it. He seemed but to take a keener pleasure in annoying. I asked Molly to dance a Waltz. We commenced and Jack commenced also. He got two fans and followed us closing knocking them together. I asked him again to stop it, so did Molly, he wouldn’t, but got a rocking chair and pursued us with this at about a foots distance. This was very annoying and dangerous also, and Molly was greatly annoyed. However she knew his nasty temper I suppose and didn’t want to make rows. When I could bear it no longer I left Molly, went up to Jack and asked him in a decisive way, would he stop that. I suppose he thought this a threat and that I had no right to make it. He said he would not stop it – he would do what he liked in his own house. I told him I would make him. He said I wouldn’t and asked me how I would. I told him then that if he didn’t stop his nonsense I would pitch him out of the room. This of course raised his most violent wrath, which became pitiably hysterical. He stamped his foot – and yelled – would I threaten him in his drawing room. Would I pitch him out of his house. He got up the tongs and threatened that if I laid hand on him he would do all sorts of things. This was all before his own sisters, Willie and Espie and my sister. I did not like to strike him in these presences but I would have executed my threat of putting him from the room only there was such a row. Teenie was crying, and Willie forcibly held him. I waited some little time in the room and then left, as the best thing I could do. Had it not been for Teenie I should have that moment left the house. But Molly came up to me and spoke so kindly. And then Willie and Carry who all agreed that Jack deserved a good licking. Espie was of like opinion. Molly stayed in my room a long time talking to me. I like best of all the family in fact I believe best of any person. I like the whole lot exceedingly well but Molly more than any. There is something about her which I think everybody admires. Had our ages been more to correspond I know I should have fallen in love with her, but of course such a thing would as circumstances are be the height of foolishness. I mean the height of foolishness as being the height of imprudence. She is a woman, I am yet a boy. A woman of 27 would be amused at a boy of 19 presuming to expect a return of his own foolish fancy as she would call it. Nevertheless the boy may still admire and prefer the women above all other girls who are accounted suitable to his age. I have heard and I do believe that young men or boys do often so prefer, nay do even fall in love with, older women. They are said to get over it. This is a long digression but I do not apologize for it. No greater subject could be for the theme itself. However I was talking or rather writing about the row. I will cut it short. I have not spoken to Jack since, I expect that he will express himself as sorry before I can again leave myself in a position in which I am liable to insult, and insult for which there is no redress, as it is give where I am hampered. I know that I could with perfect justice ask him for an apology and if he didn’t give it, give him a thrashing, but I couldn’t bear to do it. We have been so long friends. On the occasion of the row he displayed a quality which is truly a characteristic. He thought I was getting more attention and dancing than he was. Now even granting this it was quite right that I should have more attention, being a guest, but Johnny owns no feeling of what is due to a guest. He expects supreme attention in his own house as well as in all others. He has been infernally pamperedand spoiled and things for the doing of which he would in most houses have got a sound thrashing, have been laughed at and looked upon as traits of special cleverness. His delicateness in early years accounts so far for this, but of course the world in general is not bound to look at every cause, but must judge effects, and if these effects are disagreeable or annoying the world cannot be expected to put up with them as his own family would. He picked up much the same kind of row in Switzerland with Geordie Walsh. He thought he was not getting enough attention – was not amused enough. He fastened on Geordie and one day before Mr. and Mrs. Walsh and the whole family he commenced to abuse him savagely calling him all sorts of things. Geordie and all were astounded, they never having seen anything like this. I stayed in the house until Saturday night. I was to have gone back on Monday but of course did not go. I got two very pretty water color sketches from Molly, one is a view of Lamlash (?), the other of Campbelltown. She also went round the grounds with me getting me pretty holly and ivy to take home. I had a long talk with her in afternoon between dinner and tea – the subject books. She upholds that the ending of “Villette” is sad that the last scene is merely imaginative. I hold that it is not imaginative but meant for a happy ending. We discussed this point at tremendous length. We were also discussing the poetry of Horace. She says that by what she has read of them through translations they are not nice. She does not deny that his poems are good, but she does not like them and she believes no woman does. Of course women as a rule judge by translations. They do not see the intense beauty of the original. I believe also they do not always get good translations. But it is very well known then, no translation can give the true spirit of the original. Take even the great Pope’s Homer. I would far sooner read a word for word simple translation. That is the best form of translation for Homer. Pope is himself a poet, and a great lot of his ‘Homer’ is his own poetry not Homer’s. Molly says that what she has seen of Horace is mostly about drinking and dear Chloes, but if read in the original is not is not the Ode of the Book exceedingly pretty. However there is no need to discuss these things here. Jane and Carry, Jack, Willie, and Espie came down to the station with us. Molly and Laura don’t get out at night. On the road down I talked with Carry about the geniality of everybody during the holidays. Everything, with the one big exception, had gone so smoothly. There had been no tiffs as there decidedly were last Christmas. Teenie and I bade them a sorrowful goodbye.”

“Saturday Night. (New Years Eve 1881)

Is quite distinct from Saturday. During the day we were at Beith, at night we were in Glasgow. John Boyd and Wm Neil came in from Troon to stay until Tuesday. I went along to get the right time at Charing Cross. Several men were standing in front of the clock waving and shouting to it to hurry up. It is a very old custom to assemble at the Cross of Glasgow to await the arrival of the New Year. When the bell peals forth the hour of midnight they give three cheers, shake hands all round and spill the contents of their bootles (bottles?) down each others throats. This year was no exception. I believe there were some hundreds there.

Charing Cross

Father just footed us for luck. He always does so. If anyone else presented himself at the door he would be rejected with thanks and something heavy thrown after his carcass. We gathered round the table and drank 1^st as loyal loves (?) the Queen’s health, then the health of all friends. Teenie and I forgetful of all relations, clinked glasses and cried “Geilsland.” We forgot our kin but remembered those who were more than kind. I went out about ½ past 12. – round by Carnarvon St. – object to Pristfoot – didn’t do it, thought there might be people in – came home, went to bed late. This was a very poor “Bringing the New Year in,” compared to the Geilsland one. On New Year’s night of the last 2 years I have been staying there. The ceremony is this. The gentlemen get the whiskey bottle, go round the ladies, get a kiss from each and give them a glass. That is what Mrs. Love calls first fooling. It is a good one. A very simple ceremony. Only last year I enlarged it considerably by going round about a dozen times not to give them the whiskey but to get the kiss. I always insisted I had forgotten them. This year, however it was, I believe, done in the nursery. Last year it was done in the Drawing room, the hall, the stair, the landing and finally the nursery. On that occasion we had had some liquor previous to the ceremony. I do like these old country ceremonies. Next year if I possibly can manage it, I will be at Geilsland. The reason I was not there this year was that father wanted us all at home.”

“Sunday 1^st January 1882

Dawned a wet day. James came in this morning to spend the day with us. I had a talk with him about the proposed Haney Ball at Beith. He says he will go and also try to manage that I shall go. I hope he will. I did not go to church today making the excuse that I had torn my boot. I lay about recruiting my strength after the tremendous dancing at Christmas. James wants me to go out to the “Servants Ball” tomorrow night.”

(Woodilee Hospital for the Insane – Before and after photos)

“January 2^nd, 1882

James went away this morning. I followed him out to Woodilee in the afternoon. The patients had their usual Monday night dance. There was a presentation to Mr. Moodie, one of the Chaplain’s to the Asylum, on the occasion of his being appointed to the Parish of Rippen. James put in a short speech called upon Mr. Bryce Martin, Chairman of the Board to make the presentation. At the close of Martin’s asking for a vote of thanks to Dr. Rutherford, after which a very small young lady got up making a violent demonstration. The only words I properly caught were Dr. Dunlop. She was calling for a vote of thanks to Jim. The women stood up and waved their handkerchiefs – the men cheered. The patients went off to bed at their usual time. The attendants had a supper in the dinning hall. I went in with James and took in Miss McLaren the head attendant and Matron. If I had had pockets big enough I might have carried from my plate enough steak pie to have lasted me a week, so big were the helpings. After the pie we had corn flour and jelly, then fruit and coffee. The supper finished, James rose and I led the way to the Dancing hall, with a patient, one of the 2 or 3 who were allowed to attend. The ball was very good but I would have enjoyed it more had I had greater variety in my partners. My young patient came to me nearly every time and said, “I waltz with you Dr. or I’ll quadrille with you Dr.” as the case might be. They always call me Dr. at the Asylum, even the Matron does. I don’t know why unless it is that they don’t know what else to call me. I managed awkwardly to put my foot through my partner’s train. I retired from the Ball about ½ past 12. It was continued until 2. When James came down I was asleep in my shirt sleeves, I mean that I was asleep on the sofa, with my coat off. I had taken a glass of whiskey when I came down and this made me drowsy. Mr. Gladhill the pianist formerly a patient, also came in. We sat until after 4 discussing music. Mr. G. giving us some nice songs on Jim’s piano.”

“Tuesday 3^rd January 1882

I got up in time for breakfast ½ past 8. Didn’t do anything but read in the forenoon, also afternoon. After tea at 4 o’clock we took a stroll over the country and James let me see one or two quaint old villages that one could scarcely imagine could exist within seven miles of a large city. We saw the house in which the Poet Gray was born. His “Elegy” is one of my favorite pieces. I came home to Glasgow by the 6.30 train. James is greatly pleased with my new clothes, so is everybody.”

“Wednesday January 4^th, 1882

I went back to college this morning, was late for my first class. – Passed the day somehow. At night I went up to the Drinnan’s. I found there Miss Proudfoot, whose ring I have been wearing for 3 weeks and McGillivray. We had cake and wine. Afterwards we sat round the fire playing at various games. A little after ten Mr. and Mrs. Drinnan came in. The former gave me a cigar. I mention this because of my after proceedings. He told me just to light it and looked to Mrs. Drinnan and she gave her consent. So forthwith I did light it. This in the Drawing Room at least a kind of Parlour Drawing Room. I continued smoking that cigar all the rest of the time. Pat Proudfoot came for his sister and we had dancing. No sooner was the dance finished than the cigar was lighted. Coffee and cake were brought in. I smoked as I sipped my coffee. Of course I had the consent of all. And it was not me who proposed so that in that way it perhaps was all right. Certainly no one thought anything of it, but I am not satisfied in my own mind that the proceeding was altogether a right one. However we’ll see next time if I am offered a cigar. I always smoke in that house but it is in another room and when no strangers other than myself are in. It was indeed a very jolly evening. I enjoyed it exceedingly. There was no mistletoe but we dispensed with the vegetable.”

“Saturday 7^th, January 1882

Went down town this forenoon as usual. Tonight I thought I would call on the Gardiner’s in North Montrose St. Went along about ½ past 8. Found a small party assembled, dancing. I was a little put out as I was only in my tweed suit but when I went into the Drawing Room I saw that of the half dozen gentlemen assembled, 5 were in like clothing. There was a Mr. Lodge, just arrived from London. He is a tall, well-made man. He walks in that conceited heavy way, often affected by men of height and weight. I did not like him. When I went in I was introduced to a Miss Thompson. Somehow it seemed to strike me who she was. I asked her to dance the first set of dances. No sooner had we got into place then she asked me did I know Miss Shaw. I at once said that though I had not seen her before I might claim her as an old acquaintance at which she blushed. My old acquaintance with her was simply this. Anna Shaw whom I had met in Glasgow 2 or 3 years ago when I as about 17 and with whom I fell into a sort of love, mistaken as I afterwards found, had gone to a boarding school in France. While she was there we wrote regularly, although I now know that I had made a mistake in thinking myself in love as the phrase goes. This state was mainly, I am bound to say, although it may seem harsh to her, brought on by herself. That is that she showed a preference for me which I suppose flattered my vanity and this vanity was purely at the root of the feeling I had for her. This is I know a very nasty thing to say but I will discuss it all in my “History” – suffice it that we wrote to one another. Well in one letter I got from her there was enclosed a small note from a girl who signed herself Gipsey Thomson. Gip said in this note that Anna had left her letter lying on the table and tho she did not know me she wished to tell me how that Anna would never speak of any of the fellows who were invited to the conge’s or dances. How I was so fortunate etc. and other things in that strain. I sent a message or 2 to her afterwards through Anna, but Gip soon after left the school. It was very strange that I should meet her here in a house to which Anna is not known and among people with whom I became acquainted through a Canadian Cousin of theirs, who came from the same place as a cousin of mother’s. Miss Thompson said she recognized me as soon as I went into the room. She had seen a photograph which I had sent to Anna. I wonder will I meet her again. She is a very big girl. I thought I saw Anna Shaw in the town yesterday. I may however have been mistaken. Her home is in Portrush, in the North of Ireland. I did not enjoy my evening very much. The strangers were not in the least congenial to me. One gentleman in a big black mustache went through some process in the manufacture of steel at supper time. Business men are always shoppy. You meet very few of them who are really cultured men. They may be passingly pleasant but as a rule are shallow except in speculation. However I must stop tonight or I may write down opinions which are only of the moment and not permanent beliefs.”

“Wednesday 22^nd, Feb. 1882

It is a confounded time since I last wrote in this precious Diary (so-called). On looking back, however, I find there will be a good connection for what has tempted me to write again is the Calico Ball, the probability of getting to which I wrote about last. But first of all I must mention in case I did not do so that Jack and I became reconciled. He called down on me one evening of the week following New Year, nothing was said and we became chummy again.

The Calico Ball at Beith came off on Friday night. I was at it, so was James, Jack and Willie Love of course there also. For a fortnight we tramped down the town nearly every day to the Tailor’s and other places. We employed one whole day in the study and ordering of boots. I went in the character of “Masaniello” from the opera of that name. The dress is that of a Neapolitan fisherman. Blue striped shirt with rolling collar tied in front with scarlet handkerchief. Blue striped breeches, short, and turned up over the knee. Flesh colored stockings. Superb cream colored leather shoes with straps round the ankles. A blue (light) jacket something like a waistcoat, having no sleeves and being short. It fastened under the collar of the shirt and curved away in front. A scarlet night-cap and sash completed the costume.

James went as a French gentleman of the end of last or beginning of this century. Lafayette, Mr. Love called him. His dress was blue swallow tail – tails cut square, lace at ends of sleeves – white waistcoat and yellow breeks with white stockings and court slippers. A most effective dress. Jack went as a Swiss peasant – blouse blue – breeks, top boots – the latter cost 2 guineas from a wee Jew shoe maker. Willie went as a Canadian skater. I observe that I have made an infernal blunder on this page leaving the margin at the wrong side. This is especially shocking when it is the page on which I have described my dress. O Lord.

To resume. When we arrived on Friday we found that most of the people had arrived. We did not see the ladies as they had gone off to dress. Immediately after tea we went upstairs and commenced to dress. When James and I came down some had already gone to the Hall. A most miserable accident befell me when we were waiting in the Drawing room for the carriage. When pulling on my glove I was talking to Jane and paying no attention to what I was doing. The consequence being that I tore it across the back. I had not time to get another pair. I went off miserable. Of course there was a miserable mob waiting to see us alight, making remarks on our dresses, etc. We would not have minded the thought of punching them. Our party consisted of Mr. and Mrs. Love, Molly, Jane, Carry, Jack and Willie; Gracie Neal, Jeanie Nichol and Duncan from Greenock, also Mr. Adam from Greenock; Mr. and Mrs. Alex Nichol from Burton bank Gardens; Jeanie Hart from Paisley; Maggie Anderson and Nellie Cameron (sister of Hugh Cameron, artist) from Edinburgh, James and yours truly, very good party that. (SIDE NOTE: Hugh Cameron (1835–1918) was a Scottish artist. He specialized in figurative scenes. He exhibited in both the Royal Academy and Royal Scottish Academy from 1871.)

There was also another party from Hamilfield, Mr. Love’s mother’s place. These were friends also. I took in two ladies, Jeanie Nichol, an Italian girl, by name Thersa, corresponding to my Masaniello and Carrie as Carmen. I of course had Jeannie Metrol to the grand march. She is a splendid girl – let that suffice for description. Jack looked well in his Swiss costume. His Wellington’s showing beautifully. The feeling such a ball gives is an elevating one. You are lifted, so to speak (as Winthrope says) high above the smoke, noise, torment, characteristic of this world. You are to all intents, “far from the madding crowd’s ignoble strife” as Goldsmith has said and has many after him have said. You are met for pleasure, to be happy and to make others happy. This you may say is so in every Ball but if you do say so you lie. There is the one and all important element of thorough change. The endless diversity of costume, all unlike that generally worn, all unlike one another. You form as it were a little world of your own. I question if at such a time you would understand a man in ordinary clothes who might tell you that “haddocks had risen, eggs is down, bath brides fluctuating.” You would probably take this information as news of a world, which, without thinking about it, you would consider you had left. But all this of course may be mere surface show. There might quite well be the same passion, jealousy, love or hatred beating within the robe of an Eastern potentate or the velvet of a Vandyke Portrait as beneath a tweed waistcoat, but the point is it does not appear, or rather, you are not brought in the same way to think about it unless you are deeply philosophical and if you are deeply philosophical you will probably be damned, rude, inasmuch as you will pay little or no attention to anybody but simply be wrapped up in your own conceits. The Ball was splendid, 28 dances on the programme and other 2 waltzes added. I danced all but three country dances. The Hall was beautifully decorated and a space at one end was contained off for refreshments. In this place you could have cold meals and chicken but the liquor was the specialty. Claret-cup in abundance, a thing not generally noted at Balls. Sherry, Port, Brandy and Whiskey besides tea or slops. Jack supplied Jeannie Hart with the Claret-cup assuring her that it would not harm a babe. Jeannie always insisted it went to her head but we laughed and said she had nice slippers. We afterwards found that the cautious Dr. Gueddon had put in a glass of brandy to each pint of Claret-cup to prevent the coldness from doing anybody harm. I will insert here a copy of my programe.

“May 14^th, 1882.

Many things have happened since I last took notes. I am very sorry I got out of the way of it. The reason was that I was grinding fearfully for examinations at the end of the session. I hadn’t time for anything but work. I passed the Medical Preliminary Examination. But partly owing to the extra work of the Medical Exam – which was just a week before and partly because I lost a week near the end on account of the Literary Society’s Social meeting which I had to get up. I failed in my Mental examination i.e. I did not pass in the Department of Mental Philosophy for the degree of M.A. There were a few other things which might be taken as reasons but the matter stands as it is. I am particularly sorry because it is the easiest department of the three. Three subjects are comprised under it, Logic, Literature and Moral Philosophy. I got through in the 1^st 2 or rather I was plucked in the last, for of course being plucked in one means plucked in all. But I had entered at the same time for the same examination in BSC. Which is the same percentage and examination as the M.A. and have got through in the 2 subjects, Literature and Logic. That completes the Arts but of the BSC, as I have the other 2, Latin and Greek already. But I have to go in for the whole 3 subjects again for the M.A. degree in October. It is horrible to think of – I won’t do it.

At the end of the session I went down to Geilsland for a fortnight. Molly had taken very ill. She was confined to bed. Ever since last summer she has had to take great care of herself, not to expose herself to cold. She had been careless or had not thought she needed to watch herself – at any rate she got some fresh cold. It went to her chest and she was laid up. She was getting rather better when we went down and before we left she was allowed to get up. Now she gets downstairs. She feels very unhappy over the state of her heath. She used to be so strong, wouldn’t stand any amount of fatigue or wetting. Now she has to take such care. She says it is miserable. She is going to try to get away in the winter. We enjoyed our holidays immensely. We took to building a hut.

The creation was circular. Felled trees were dragged from the Plantations, shorn of their branches and made into poles. These were joined at the top. Then we wattled the poles and stretched canvas over them to within a foot of the ground. The space between the ground and the canvas was filled up with grass wattled tightly. The canvas had no very bright appearance, being in truth old bags, but it was picturesque. We had in fact erected a very substantial tinkers tent. We brought a lot of trees to the field, bared them, and chopped them into length, making nice sized logs. At night we lit them up and made an immense fire. We had supper round the fire. Cocoa, beer and porter. We told stories and drew on our imagination. Of course the ceremony of jumping around and over the fire was not omitted. We invited the girls out but they were too busy in the house to come much. However they paid us a short visit. They found that we had abandoned the fire and were shut up in our tent, smoking snugly in the small space. The amount of open air exercise which this chopping of wood and building of the tent entailed upon us, did us an immense deal of good and also kept our tempers good. It is when people have nothing to do and don’t know how to do it that they get cross and peevish. It was after one of these night fires that Mr. Love asked me into his room and told me that which I will and will hereafter note down not at this place but separately. It was daylight about half past 3 when we went to bed and we usually went into Molly’s room in the forenoon and at night after tea for some time. I liked to go to see her. She is not so ill tempered now as she used to be. I can well understand why. But of late she has got into a most atrocious habit, upon any difference of opinion being expressed, of telling me that I will think differently when I am older. This is awfully annoying. I can’t understand why she does it. Perhaps it is just because I am getting older and she thinks I require to be repressed. I wish she wouldn’t, for that is one way of dealing with people which I particularly detest. I shall get to like her so well and I have always liked her best of her own family and probably better then any other woman or girl whom I know. She has been ill so long and has constantly been under her mamma who, with every intention of good, teases her very soul, and keeps her in almost perpetual misery. No one could endure it and still remain sweet tempered. But still she never used to say the things she says now and I feel them when she does, although I daresay she never means them nor thinks of them a moment afterwards. On the other had my relations have improved wonderfully with Carrie. More used to be constant little tiffs and quarrels between us, now we have scarcely any and if we have one it is cleared away laughingly. She and Lillian came home here with me in order that they might be at our dance last Friday week. They stayed a week. I don’t think I ever knew Carry so fully as I have got to know her during her last visit and I think she knows me better now. We had a few walks together at night when many things were explained. Agnes Watson was staying here also. One day we went out to Woodilee with Willie Love. James came in with us. He of course walked with Agnes, Carry, Willie and I in front. Willie however took a car home – we preferred to walk. Carrie and I laughed good-naturedly as we talked of those behind us and made up between us that we let them have a long walk. Accordingly when we came to Charing Cross I told James that Carrie and I were enjoying our walk immensely and that we did not care to go in yet, did he object to continue to walk a little. He appealed to Agnes, she consented and in all gravity we continued our meander. Carrie and I were on ahead. We led them to the Park, took the most unfrequented path, crossed the Relvin and strolled slowly along the bank. It was a dark night. We tried to slip the pair behind as we thought for their own comfort but evidently they did not like it for they kept always out of earshot but still within sight. Of course we were not taken up with this maneuvering. We had a long, grave, confidential talk about things. We got upon the subject “friendship.” We both agreed in strongly condemning those people who could not see a man and women walking together but they immediately looked at them as a spooney couple. A man cannot form a friendship with a woman nor a women with a man without the world talking. Why will they not allow such friendships as pure and true as any. If the world would let these alone there would be some happier men and women. A man feels better and nobler when he has the disinterested approval of a good woman. She can give him far sounder advice on some points than a man can. The friendship of a good and true woman will keep a man in the right path far more readily I believe than even the love and counsel of parents. And why should there be so few of these friendships. I have felt it in my short life time more than once. Even here I know they talked about Carrie and me. But happily I do not specially care for any such so called teasing. It makes me a little unhappy but not altogether for myself. Were I to go much with or talk much to Carrie or shew a strong liking for her, very likely they would say as she is older that she was trying to catch me. Thus the world speaks and acts – when will it know better. My feeling for Mary Drinnan was always and is now pure friendship, yet have people attempted to call it another name, and so spoiled a great deal of happiness. E. S. last summer she was at Troon. I had said that I would probably come down and see her. I wished to do it simply because I would have enjoyed being with her sometimes and talking to her. I find pleasure in talking to her and I think she does in talking to me. But I was not allowed to go down simply because they had chosen to set some other meaning to my action or had called friendship by a different name. I was compelled to stay at home. Well so be it. Perhaps I will understand it better when I am older as Molly says. But it is hard that a man or boy should be excluded from having friendships with women or girls simply because people should choose to put interpretations of their own or actions. The world though is the oracle on all points and men must submit to what they impose upon themselves. There may be a few exceptions but they have no right to exist. Alack-a-day, alak-a-day. I must not set up to correct the world or I shall inevitably have the finger of scorn pointed at me and men shall say Aha! Aha! But after all it may be only my own little world that I am regarding with narrowed vision. May the motes, beams and other impediments be cleared, be cleared from my eyes that I may look truthfully upon my fellowmen. Perhaps it is but the beam stretched across my vision which I see enlarged as if it were in their optics as an incautious or inexperienced observer sees his own eyelashes in the microscope. If so I shall live in hope that when I have the experience I shall observe correctly. It is a horrible malady, that in which a man feels himself possessed of a loftier mind then those around him. May I be preserved from such a fatality.”

Our party on Friday week was a very successful one. Carrie and Lilian enjoyed it very much. I had three waltzes with Carrie – delicious ones. Minnie and Andrew Moyes were here. Minnie is a splendid Waltzer. Mary Drinnan has been very ill and could not be here. McLellan and his sister, Espie and his, Agnes and Netta Wilson, Agnes Watson of course, Bob McFarlene, the immortal Bob, Laird, James, and ourselves are the names I remember just now. We kept up dancing until after 3 o’clock. We did not get up next day until about 12, some not until 2. In the evening we went down to the Harbour and strolled along viewing the ships. Carried had the satisfaction of again walking on the deck of the ‘Bolivia’ in which ship she had gone and come from America.

On Tuesday we went along to see the ‘Western Hospital’ Grange, who is House Physician with McCall Anderson, (where James used to be) asked me to bring along Carrie and Lan to see the place. They were greatly pleased with it. We then walked round to Jack’s lodging in Sutherland Terrace and had tea with him, returning home late. Another nice walk. I never enjoyed any like them. Agnes Watson went away on Tuesday, Carrie and Lan on Wednesday.

The Medical classes have been commenced for more then a week. I am taking Botany and Anatomy. The 1^st Botany excursion was yesterday. I had been told that students didn’t learn much at these excursions but I think they can learn if they like. I certainly did learn a good lot yesterday. Jack and Willie Love and I kept along half the way – then we started off on our own account. The excursion was to Newton thence walking along the banks of the Clyde to Cambuslang – thence by train home. The Clyde there is beautiful and much bigger than I expected to find it. I think that that is the prettiest walk all round Glasgow. We arrived at Cambuslang nearly an hour before the great walk of the students. We adjourned to admire and had something to refresh us, toiling through two big halfpenny scones and a quantity of beer – not so toilsome a job. There was a party of 5. Gray across the St. being one. We had splendid fun. And when the rest came up, more coming in the train. We had high old times. But I am tired writing today and won’t attempt to describe anything.

“I commenced dissection this week. Jack and I have a leg each, on the same body. We have been working away at the Glutenous Maximus. We have only bared that muscle and the body is to be turned tomorrow. We will have to do the rest when the legs are cut off. Carrie was greatly grieved when we began. She doesn’t like the idea at all. However she is sensible and not hysterical. Mrs. Love, I hear, is fearfully annoyed on account of her son Johnny. She thinks he should change to law. Johnny laughs. It was a little time before we could handle things properly but we are not getting used to it. Besides the look of the dissecting room was not new to me and I was able to prepare Jack properly, not with all the common reports.”

“Thursday 1^st, June 1882

I usually commence, when I have not been writing for some time, by telling how long it is since I last wrote. The practice is not a bad one though when repeated it is like all other repeated sayings or actions, gives a feeling of shame. It does not matter whether anyone sees this or not, you feel as if you were doing some injury or something sneaking to yourself. However (a very common mode with me of ending any little discussion) it is nearly a fortnight since I wrote or perhaps it is nearly 3 weeks, I can’t be bothered looking back. At any rate on last Saturday week we went down to Beith. When Jack and I arrived we found collected in the nursery nearly all the family entertaining their Grandmamma and Mary Gilmour who has been staying at Hamilfield for sometime. They had come up here because Molly could not come down to the Drawing Room. Espie was also here – he had come down on his bicycle. We had tea i.e. Jack and I had tea – the rest talked. I don’t know that I have ever mentioned Mary Gilmour before. She is a queer girl or rather women as I believe she is about 30 or 34 years old. She is a sister of Alan Gilmour who has made his fortune in the tobacco trade – has large factories in America. I met Mary 3 years ago and had some precious fun with her. She was staying at Hamilfield and I remember one day being invited to go round and play croquet along with the rest. We were so many that we couldn’t all play at once. Mary Gilmour asked me to come and east gooseberries. I went. She talked to me a great lot telling me about the Dr. who was in the ship in which Carrie and she came from America – how she wrote to him and had got such a beautiful Christmas card from the Mediterranean – she presented me with a quarter dollar piece, which I afterwards by mistake gave into the station for a shilling and in other ways made herself agreeable. She carried suspended from her belt a reticule on which she had all her small trifles and letters, – cards etc. She allowed me a peep into it and I got curious.

She then proposed we should go to the pump and wash our hands after the gooseberries. Standing beside the pump was a splendid yellow rose bush which James, the gardener, was carefully keeping to and sending for the show. Mary selected the finest rose, said it was broken (a lie) and gave it to me. I had no other course but put it in my button hole. That rose has been the subject of much mirth and teasing. The gardener was in a tremendous rage. He asked me where I had got it. He is a damned cheeky man. I snubbed him effectually. But all the same it was enough to vile him in all conscience to take the best rose from a bush which he had specially tended, probably for a month or two – but these gardeners somehow seem to think all flowers belong to them like the cook and her kitchen. If I ever have a gardener who dares to call the flowers his or to conduct himself as if they were, I shall break some bone of his. However there was great laughter over that rose. Old Mrs. Love was rather pleased then otherwise because I had subdued James, a thing which she can’t manage. Just yesterday when at Paisley (about which I will talk afterwards) Carrie made an allusion to that rose. I laid it on my dressing table and on coming back found it carefully placed between my new yellow gloves. And this is the thing that is brought up as if I did it. A few days after the rose episode Mary called round. I had lost almost all respect for her from the numerous stories which I heard from the Loves about her doings. How she had been engaged two or 3 times but the gentlemen had broken it off because they don’t stand her informal flirting. Once even her own brother told one they didn’t expect him to keep to his promise. I remember well that day she came round. We sat outside reading for some time and Mary was always putting leaves round Mr. Love’s hat thinking this a fine joke. We afterwards played lawn tennis and when we came in Miss Gilmour was teasing me on the stairs. I determined to give her as good as I got. I was sitting on the tennis box underneath the stairs – she put her umbrella through and hit me on the head several times, and then in the ribs. I thought this a fine joke – took the umbrella from her and then pummeled her well in the ribs with it till she fell over on the stair – the girls all the time laughing immodestly to see Mary’s joke played off on herself. Now this was what one might indeed call rudeness but on my soul I couldn’t help it. I believe I would do it again. I seemed that day to have lost all politeness to her. Afterwards in the hall she was showing me a card or two of some American gentlemen. I laughed at their names and finally insisted on examining the reticule from which she took them. I saw she didn’t mind. But of course she resisted. But I persisted and broke the leather handle of the pouch to pieces in the struggle. I took out everything from it and examined them minutely making running comments. Now here is a record of rudeness unparalleled I believe, yet she wasn’t angry. We had dancing at night. She was like a sack of coals to dance with. However I have said enough about her past doings. I don’t speak much to her now. This last time she has been out she has made the acquaintance of Hunter, a student and tutor to Lilian and Robert. Hunter is a cheeky fellow i.e. conceited and a little assuming but nobody would have dreamnt of him going the length of calling at Hamilfield and asking for Miss Gilmour. Many have found however that it was she who asked him to call. Another time when she was in the house at Geilsland, Hunter was in the library with Lilian and Robert. Miss Gilmour knew he was there. She went in and asked about Bounee the dog, if they had seen it and then asked Hunter when he would be finished. He said ‘Presently’. She came upstairs again and made some excuse about waiting and then went down and walked slowly down the avenue. However she did not see Hunter – how, we can’t tell. Hunter has called again at Hamilfield, I hear.

There is no saying what that woman would do. The girls say that if she had not a gentleman to flirt with she would probably take up with James the gardener. She tells fearful lies. But I can’t be bothered talking about her any longer…”

“I remember one solemn talk with Carrie as we walked around. We got into the pebble yard in the course of our meander. It was Sunday, no one was about. We were feeling how hot the air on the frames was. Carrie knelt at the side of it and I knelt at her side and in this strange position we discovered upon this world. I was in a melancholy mood and complained bitterly of the lack of variety in this life. All so commonplace and stale. I remember bemoaning the fate which had not given me money that I might have gone about in search of some pursuit into which I could have cast my whole soul. Of course I shall make my profession my whole aim, I mean a high position in my profession. I know I would rather be the most eminent doctor than the most eminent anything else. But I believe that had I had money, well I was going to say that I would probably have chosen something with more action in it. I might have but still I would have been spared all the hopeless drudgery of which one who has no money must undergo. But it is before me. I have got to make myself a name if name I ever had and it is only by study, by mastering my profession, by acquiring knowledge that I can do that. Verily knowledge is power. Does knowledge not form a class and a powerful class. Our professional class has a mighty influence. Our medical class, my profession, has an influence, Oh that I could attain a position to have an influence over them. I have a ceaseless craving to be thought well of, what should I feel were I to get to that height to which men would look. That is my ambition. It is an unwearingly, plodding perseverance, and a sense of incompleteness ever present and also ever present not only the craving to fill up the void but the mental force to be ever doing it. Have I these qualities? Alas I have not. But can I not acquire them? Can I not when my reason points clearly to the course to be taken take that course. Is it not consummate foolishness, idiocy, on my part not to attempt to follow out that path which my reason tells me is the one I should follow, not only that, but is the one by following which I must succeed, by neglecting which I must inevitably fail. Shall I not attempt it. How I long for strength, mental force to make me do it. I could stamp on myself to give me decision to make me be still when I wish to diverge. But I shall, I will try. It is my duty, it is every mans duty to do the best he can within his sphere, but it is also his duty to raise that sphere if by so doing he will benefit his fellow man and every man benefits his fellow man by raising his sphere. If he acquires new knowledge it is so much more he can do for them. A tradesman by making a table or a chair more and more perfect is bestowing a benefit on the race. A doctor by research, by knowledge by an increase and an education of all his faculties can do large and lasting good. And I shall do it. If it be given me to rise may I employ all for the increase of the happiness of my fellow creators. This is a long divergence, but I do not regret it, since it has led me, forced me to think over and bring before my mind its own imperfection and the way to mend it. Next day, Monday, we spent for the most part lying outside. The weather was exceedingly good and very warm. Molly even got out to sit on a chair. We were reading “Doubles and Quits” a novel by Col. Lockhart, who is also the author of “Fair to See.” Both of these are exceedingly good. When I read the latter I thought I had never read anything more enjoyable, but now I think the former is better. No books could be better for holiday reading. Lockhart has a great amount of easy going and fine natural fun i.e. fun which has no feeling of working up or preparation – it flows along and seems to be the man’s own way of speaking. Mrs. Love met Col. Lockhart once at one of the Patrick’s. He came with Col. Muir of Caldwell. She says one could see by looking at him or rather by his very look that the whole book was just a natural outburst. He had a jolly good-nature but very gentlemanly appearance. He has died lately. His is much finer fun than Charles Lever’s i.e. it is not so rowdy or practical jokey. It is gentlemanly throughout, never vulgar. Altogether his books are very superior productions. Somehow last time I didn’t seem to speak so much to Molly. I felt more at a distance from her. I used to feel nearest to her of any. I don’t know whether I do now – it may be only a passing thing. But I think it is because for a long time with what object I know not, she has been treating me as young and inexperienced. When I agree with her it is all right but when I don’t or abuse any author or anything which she likes, she tells me I will think different when I am older. I don’t mean by the term abuse that I am rude to her. It is simply a strong phrase I have got into the habit of using. I mean to imply when I differ in opinion. And sometimes this may be on very simple grounds. E.G. (for example) we were reading a book of Wm. Blake’s “That Beautiful Wretch” which made the holiday number of The Illustrated News.

There was girl in it Madge Beresford. Now Molly said I should like Madge when I read about her but I disliked her exceedingly. She had no heart – no feeling of any high kind. She calmly engages herself to Captain King when she is in love with another man and goes to her sister when she has to write a letter to him, and plainly tells her she does not care much for him – she doesn’t know what to write etc. And she has no head. She is shallow and rapid to subtract head and heart and you haven’t much left. This Molly owned, but nevertheless asserted that I should like that kind of girl when I was older. I can’t help being a little angry at such things. She never used to say such things and I don’t believe she means them in any taking-down sense, but I can’t help from feeling them. Perhaps – no I won’t give any reason in which may not be one and may be foolish. But I do hope she won’t persist in this. I have liked her best of any of them, I believe better than any girl or woman and I shouldn’t wish not to like as well. But if there is anything or rather anybody I hate is one who tries to snub as it is called. I can’t help from feeling when a person is doing it and I think this is why I have felt more at a distance from her. But it may be all right now she is well. For I know that the teasing she gets would kill or drive most anybody who has not patience. She daren’t move hand or foot but it is noted and moments made upon it. She has to submit to be lectured about health and food. She is made to eat when she doesn’t want to and is altogether infernally worried and all with the very best intentions. Her mammas object is care for her, so she can’t be angry but has to submit. It is terrible when a woman gets to meddling with drugs and health.”

Wednesday 7^th June, 1882

A Swedish gentleman has come to stay in Jack’s diggings. He is a very peculiar fellow called Axel Moullen. The 1^st night he came Jack and Willie were asked in to supper by Miss Mc Hattie their landlady. They were fearfully amused with the Swede. After they had finished supper he went hoping about the room pulling bottles of beer which he took from under the sideboard. Jack fixed a night on which I was to be introduced to him. I came up and we had a jovial party. The Swede is about 22, tall, broad, dark hair – blue eyes – a very nice looking fellow. Jack had a bottle of whiskey in. After supper we sat down to cards and smoked and drank toddy till about one o’clock in the morning. We had some glorious songs. The swede sang some in his own tongue and gave us a few dances, not very drawing room like. I came home rapidly feeling a little heady. The Swede asked us all to supper on the Saturday following and I was to bring Johnny. This Saturday night was a glorious one. We commenced early – about half-past eight, but did not carry it on so late. The Swede brought forth his liquor and with a beaming smile laid it on the table. He had half a dozen of beer and a bottle of whiskey for toddy and a bottle of brandy. He announced that we were to carry on the proceedings in the Swedish way. However 1^st we took supper and the beer. Then lighted our pipes when the Swede produced some small vessels exactly like diminutive glass ___(?) and gave forth that “This is Swedish punch bowls.” We told him what they resembled, at which he said “darn.” He half fitted these with brandy, then posting himself in front of us all, took a sheet of paper from his pocket and read there from an address or speech bidding us welcome. It was written in horrible English, worse by far than he spoke. It commenced “If I shall know your esteemed language better.” At the conclusion of his oration we clinked glasses and drank. The precarious foreigner then proceeded to brew some Swiss coffee and milk into which he poured another half of brandy. This is an exceedingly good drink though a little sickening. We now had some violently loud songs, to which Johnnie put powerful aid by his cock’s chorus. There is an English lady and her daughter staying in the house. They said next day that they envied us our party, they felt so lonely, they said. We played Nap. as usual – Between each deal there was a song, it being the dealers privileged to call on whom we pleased. The Swede is a splendid bass singer or rather has a splendid bass voice. Perhaps the best song we had and the one most solemnly and strongly sung was “Scots wha hae” which Johnnie led off. We sang it standing and put enormous vigor into it. We explained to the Swede that it was the Scotch National Anthem, and he stood gravely bowing throughout. Johnnie then wanted Sweden and sang with great spirit, “For Sweden’s a Jolly Good Fellow.” Of course the Norseman didn’t understand what we were singing but he heard the name of Sweden and saw our grave faces as we stood, and was vastly pleased. We always do these things with the greatest solemnity. There is a German servant at Miss Mc Hattie’s – Mollen, and she looks down on one another as foreigners. We ordered in hot water. The Swede told her she was to bring in a bigger kettle than she had brought last night. She proposed a pail, but the Swede pushed her out of the room. In a little she came back staggering under the weight of an enormous iron boiler of a kettle which she put on the fire. Mollen got highly indigent, sprang from his seat and amid our laughter swinging the kettle off the fire on to the floor. He then took it up and poured a lot of the water into the fender at which Bertha commenced to storm. We were convulsed with laughter to see the two foreigners each despising the other and fighting away. The Swede again put Bertha out of the room muttering things at every second word. We all sat down again but in another minute the Swede got up, emptied the kettle and ran along the lobby to the kitchen saying damn at every stop. He came back with the right one. We afterwards found that it was Miss Baker the English girl who had sent Bertha in with the huge kettle. We had a most jovial party. We had taught the Swede to say damn it, at our last party and it is now his principal phrase. When playing cards with Miss Mc Hattie and the other ladies he got a bad hand where upon he threw it down and cried out damn. He just uses the single word. Miss Baker asked him who taught him to say that. The cute Swede said it was the fellows in his office who said it. She asked if he knew what it meant, he said no he did not know. But he has used it several times. I think I have said enough about the Swede, there will be plenty more yet. It is my turn to give the next party which of course will be in Jack’s. I am saving up for it. I must get to work now. I may write some more at night about last Saturday’s fun at Paisley at the Harts.

Resumed after a few days. We had a jovial day at the little Fiscals. Moir was there – however he was no great element of the joviality. He walked off with Jane, and right too. Jack, Willie and George also there. Jack was in a funk all day. Somehow we had managed all to miss each other. I came 1^st at the right time, then came Willie somewhat late, and lastly Jack and Espie very late. They had had a pot of beer at the station. Little Hart thought this was a trick, he said we evidently thought one arrival was not imposing enough so we had decided to come each on his glory alone. During dinner Jack attempted to pour out his claret without removing the stopper. He would probably have smashed his glass with it had not little H. given him a hint that he thought he would manage better with the cork out. This was number one. Jack didn’t like it. I could see that his arriving late had put him out of temper. There was no beer on the table. I was privately savage and on comparing notes found Jack was like an intelligent tiger on the subject. We had gone down to meet Jeannie Hart on the Thursday and Jack told her to have in plenty of beer. I warned him that she would probably tell her papa and he for a trick would give us none. Whether she did or not we had none. Jack says he will have it out with her about it. All we had to drink was some miserable Rhine wine. It was very good of its kind, I suppose, but what a kind for a student to be taken by the glass. After dinner we had a smoke in the library. Now Mr. Hart was asking about our exams. We told Jack he was surprised and delighted to hear he was through. Jack again savage. After this he became sulky to little H. and scarcely spoke anything to him. We had a small game at lawn tennis and then proceeded to the Gleniffer Braes (this is a beautiful park land just south ofPaisley Scotland)where was being held the annual Tannahill concert (to be annual no longer I hear). I enjoyed myself immensely. Was talking a good deal to Jeannie. Jeannie is a splendid girl; I like her immensely. After hearing some of the concert, and as is usual on Paisley Feast days, came rain. We hurried home and had tea, after which smoke and then cards and music. Jack again savage. Having music was bad enough in his estimation, but having it they selected some fine classical stuff which he professes to dislike. He would rather have had some English songs. We started off for the last train, Mr. Hart accompanying us a bit of the way. Mr. Hart is a real good fellow. I try to persuade Jack that his little jokes such as asking him, “Mr. Hart is the time by your watch, if it is going?” are quite good-natured, but he won’t be reasonable. He thinks Hart is taking his water off him, and is always ready to resent any liberty – I forget to mention that Jane and Carry Love were there also. Carry was very quiet, Jane was of course greatly taken up with Mr. Moir. When we got to Paisley Station we made a descent on the Refreshment Room but badly we swore when we found it was tea tottle. This is a perfect nuisance and ought to be put down. Why should Paisley Station not keep liqueurs? Why indeed. For some reason no doubt. We came home to our house – had a pot of beer and then a smoke and then Jack and Willie wandered their weary way homewards through the park.

“Supposed to have been written about July 1882. Arran

“I don’t know whether I have mentioned in back pages that we have conceived a mighty prospect. It is to row round Aaron. We 1^st thought of this when Jack was staying at the end of last year in Widow (I forget her name.) We 1^st intended to make a tent but luckily our construction skill had not to be put to the test. Mr. Love got a tent from Captain Neil of Swindridgemuir son of General Neil of the Indian Mutiny. It is a military tent, square shaped, 3 poles. I have a diagram of it somewhere which I give afterwards in the proper place. Our 1^st intention was to have 5 of a crew, but neither Espie nor Duneen Nieol came – so Jack, Willie and I determined to set off ourselves. It was necessary that we should not tell anyone. My father would have objected to the boat, Mrs. Love would have objected to the sleeping in the tent. We therefore went about our preparations in secret. We agreed to start in August, 2^nd week. I will not say any more just now except that the week before we started we were engaged all day working in the laundry at lamps and what not. Mother and the rest had gone to the coast – I stayed at home on the plea of work. Father had not yet gone. Some days when he came in he got Jack and I coming up stairs with our jackets off and having blackened hands. “Ah” he went to say, “you are at boxing and fencing instead of work.” We rather encouraged him in the belief. As the time drew near we purchased our goods and hid them away. We got a frying pan for our fish – a kettle for hot-water – a spirit lamp – tin-plates, cups and a variety of things. Our preserved meats and other groceries, we got out of our grocers, of course not paying for them. All were securely packed in a box and nailed down. We got 4 bottles of whiskey pr – Peter Buchannan – put them into straw cases and carried them in a hand bag. We were to start on Monday morning at 7 o’clock. I got a fright when father intimated that he would breakfast along with us. How were we to get off our luggage without it being seen. I hit on a plan. Before he got up I was to carry our luggage (all but my bag) to Wylie and Lochhart’s cab office. I leave it there saying that 2 gentlemen would call for it. This was managed by the help of a servant who assisted me gaily in all the things connected with the expedition. I got the things round, Jack and Willie called, took them in a cab to the boat. I left the house with my bag, took a cab, and joined them at the quay, having accomplished all things without arousing the least suspicion. Other details I will copy from a book I carried with me.” (And there you have it. Sadly I don’t have the book he talks about.)

Part III Next!!!

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