This was the land of Burns, and the district of Ayrshire. It seemed to be a large, plain, open country. The town of Ayr had a castle once, and the walks about Ayr were pleasant. I did like to go there. There were some old buildings, which people come from all parts to see. Churches are still preserved there as ruins traditionally famous.

There was no smoke and dust in Ayr, as at Glasgow, and visitors could get easily to any of the places of attraction, either by train or steamboat. Ayr was nine miles from Maybole. Mrs. Scott was most ardent in every object about Burns, and she took us with her wherever she went. On one occasion, when at Ayr, we had luncheon at a tavern, the name of which I forget, but we were shown three such queer-looking old chairs, with high backs, and in the back of each were portraits. In the middle was Robert Burns, and on either side was Tam o' Shanter and Suter Johnnie. The chairs were only for show. They told us that those three jolly men used to meet in that room, and sit in the chairs. Girl-like, I did not pay much attention then, but in after years, as I grew older, it gave me joy to think I had seen them. The influences of those times entered into my being, and have grown up with me. For myself, I made it a rule to visit all the objects of interest, and I would go round and round them till I was tired. We all went another day to see Burns' monument. I gathered a few pebbles from the foot of the monument and had them for years. They are lost, but the journey lives in my recollection as if it was only yesterday. I saw a very old lady walking about and talking to the people. She had on what was known as a sow-backed mutch. Mrs. Scott told us that was the youngest sister of Robert Burns. Her name was Mrs. Back. I read the account of her death in the paper some years afterwards. Then we went to see the Burns' cottage. And, again, on my own account I visited it, and took all the children with me, from where they were building the railway.

We were in the waggon with Mr. Scott and some other gentlemen. I heard them say, "That is Burns' cottage over there," and when they were not looking I started off for the cottage. It must have been quite three miles, and I had to carry the youngest child on my back all the way to and from the place. Mr. Scott was cross, and gave me a severe talking to, and told me if ever I did such a thing again I would not be allowed to come out in the waggon. It was cold weather. Little maids were dressed then in a print dress with short sleeves, low at the neck, and opened at the back. I was cold, and so were the children, and we kept them waiting so that they could not go back in the waggon without us. The gentlemen were either engineers or directors, for they had on tall hats. At least they were in position over Mr. Scott. They came from Glasgow to look at the new line.

There were a lot of navvies working, and they had little tents all along the line. Anyhow, I saw the cottage where Burns was born on two different occasions. I saw both the outside and the inside. It was not a grand place to look at, but merely a whitewashed wee house. To think that a man born there would have a monument like what I saw made me think of my earlier years. I can yet remember the names of the places in passing to and from the place.

Ayrshire has plenty of rivers, and on the Clyde years afterwards I saw where it began just a little burn. It was pointed out to me while I was in the train travelling from London to Glasgow. But I must keep to the far-away times. Ayrshire is divided into districts, and what always perplexed me was when a neighborhood was called a burgh. I liked the parts, such as the rough high hills and the Ailsa Craig, which you could see from a long way off.