will, I hope, add to the interest of the booklet. Edward Farquhar, who now stands in his 70th ;ear, a true type of the "Manninagh Dooie," lives in the little hill-village of Cregneish, and has spent almost all his active life on the sea as a fisherman, and comes of a family of fishermen for generations untold. The Cregneish folk were just like a great fither[illegible]-family entirely left to themselves, and little disturbed by the outside waves of modern life, with its rush and throbbing speed. They were frugal, hardy, and sea-toiling men, whose lives were divided between mackerel fishing and the harvesting of their little oat and potato crofts. The Mull, with its venerable stone - circle, the Calf, made memorable by Hall Caine, and the grand view spread around, offers a sight scarcely rivalled in its beauty and impressive loneliness in the Island. They are dwelling in the high, rocky upland, amidst purple heather and gorse, and you can see the wild dashing and splashing breakers, and hear the roaring from the sea caves. The winter time is thoic[illegible] rough and desolate, and the fishing is then resting, and they draw closer to their glimmering turf fires to tell weird stories and gruesome legends. It was here in this mountain loneliness, so rich in natural scenery, that he grew up, and there is no man in the Island that loves his native soil more intensely, or is fonder of the contemplation of nature. In his time, education was in a very back-
