S tric a chaithris mi 'n oidhche, A' dol an ionad a seolaidh. Fhuair mi loinneachan posaidh, 'S mi gu'n ceannaicheadh an gùn dhuit, Chum do sheoladh bhi aithghearr. Cuid de bheusan mo leannain Tha clann-nighean an taobh so 'S beag tha m' uigh ann am pairt diubh, 'Gam bheil crodh agus caoirich, 'S cha ghabh mi h-aon buibh 'n 'd aite ; 'S mi nach iarradh leat tochradh, Ach jib, a's topsail, a's mainsail, Bhi as do chionn air a bhreideadh. 'S iomadh oidhche fhliuch fhuaraidh, Bha mi muigh leis a' Ghruagaich, 'S muir a' bualadh mu darach, 'S bha cuisle fuathasach fallainn. Bha thu gleusd air an aiseag, Cha chluinnte 'glagraich nan ramh ort, Gaoth an ceann no 'na 'd fhabhar, 'S nuair a ruigeamaid Cluaidh leat, Another excellent sea song-of which I fear I do not possess a thoroughly complete version-was composed by Raonaid Nighean Mhic Neill, a distinguished poetess in her day. This Hebridean Sappho (a native of North Uist), flourished, I think, towards the close of last century. It is said that she was once in the Isle of Skye wind bound, and waiting for a boat and a favouring breeze to take her across the Minch. She happened to be one day gathering shell-fish, along with other women, on the shore of Dunvegan, when, raising her head and looking westward, she saw a tall handsome man passing by. To the astonishment of all, this gentleman, splendidly dressed, and wearing a gold ring, accosted Raonaid, and, finding out that she was waiting to cross to Uist, offered her a passage. This turned out to be young Maclean of Heiskir, an island otherwise known as Monach, lying westward of North Uist, and which was occupied by the same family for generations. In praise of Fear Heiskir and his birlinn the following stirring verses were composed : Gur e mise tha fo mhighean, Gus a faca mi 'm bata, Tigh 'n bho Rudha na h-Airde Mac an armuinn ri stiuireadh, 'S muir ag eirigh ri stoc, Tha do lamhsa cho gleusda, Bu tu sgiobair na fairge, 'S tu falmadair grinn, 'S tu gu'n deanadh a stiuireadh, Cha bu ghlas bho 'n a' chuan thu, Bagradh reef orr le soirbheas, Cha robh do leithid ri fhaighinn, 'N dean iad taghal no falbh, Nach bi faighneachd am b'fhiosrach, C'aite 'm faicte do bhat. Ged bhiodh ciosanaich mhar' ann, An iurach alluinn aighearrach, I ruith cho direach ri saighead, 'S gaoth na h-aghaidh gu cruaidh ; Ged bhiodh stoirm chlachan meallainn Anns' an cathadh a tuath, Ni fear Heiskir a' gabhail Lamh nach attadh roimh stuaidh. The following stanzas are also of the nature of a sea song, and with them I shall bring this paper to a close. I have not been able to localise them or state positively that they are Hebridean in their origin. I have heard it said, however, that they were composed by a lady of the Macdonald family of Sleat, but they afford no internal evidence as to their authorship or the person to whom they are addressed. Macpherson, Strathmashie, in the chorus of a song called "An Long Eiginn," has borrowed a part of the chorus of this song, as, I think, there can be little doubt of its being the older composition of the two. I am not aware of its being in print, and I think it possesses the merit of poetic and refined sentiment : Seisd-Ho nan tigeadh mo Robairneach gaolach, Dheanainnse mire co theireadh nach faodadh, Tha bhirlinn a tigheann fo h-uidheam an trathsa, Nam bitheadh sud agadsa claidheamh 'us targaid, Cha b'e mo Robainse soideanach suarach, 'Nan tigeadh tu fathast b'e m' aighear 's mo run thu, 23rd APRIL, 1890. The paper for this evening was by Mrs Mary Mackellar, on the "Traditions of Lochaber." Mrs Mackellar's paper was as follows: TRADITIONS OF LOCHABER. Lochaber was a place of note in very ancient times. Banquo, Thane thereof, lived at Tor Castle, on the banks of the river Lochy, as history tells, and the topography of the surroundings proves. Afterwards Macbeth had a home at what is now known as Lundavra. St Bershom, in his "Chronicles of St Andrews," says that Macbeth was slain at his habitation of Deabhra, and Skene in his "Celtic Scotland" quotes this, saying that Deabhra is a lake in the forest of Mamore in Lochaber, on an island of which there was a castle known as the Castle of Mamore. He further remarks as proof of this place having been a royal residence, that the glen leading west from it is still known as Glen-ree, the King's glen, and that the river running from the lake through this glen is known as the King's river, "Abhuim ree." The real old Gaelic name of the lake seems to have been Loch da-ràth, and the castle was known as Dun-da-ràth. There are two artificial islands still in the lake, and on them the castles or raths would be built. The palaces of Tara and Emania in Ireland were thus built of logs and wattle, and they were continued in the Highlands until a recent date as the homes of chiefs and people of note. Lochiel's castle of the '45, burnt by the Duke of Cumberland, was all of wattle, excepting the bit of wall where the fire-places were, and which still stands. Lundavra is a beautiful place, well fitted for a royal residence. Ben-Nevis, from its base to its summit, stands like the mighty guardian of the sheltered spot, and the top of Dundeardeul, which rises so high from Glen-Nevis, is on a level with Lundavra, and one can imagine the blaze of the watch-fires there in the days of Macbeth and his wife Gruoch, daughter of Bode. This king and queen must have had settled an ecclesiastical colony around them here, as they had done in Kinross. in driving up on Marshal Wade's road from Fort-William to Lundavra, we get to a green fertile tract of country, enclosed by sloping hills, and known as "An Crò," or "the fold." This beautiful part is tenanted by a crofter population who look thriving and comfortable, and the different names of the townships are suggestive of a religious colony. The first township we meet in the fold has the name of " Blarmac-Cuilteach," the field of the son of the Culdee. This name has been in recent years corrupted into Blar-Mac-Failteach, but the old people pronounced it Blar-Mac-Caoilteach, or Cuilteach. Next to that is the township of "Blar-nan-Cleireach," or the field of the |