. The land of heather . Puttin oot the Dung. HISTORIC GROUND. Entrance to a Close MIDSUMMERhad come and passed, and there were hints ofautumn in the baremowing-fields, and inan occasional chillnight. The rowantrees in the dens werebeginning to get gaywith their clusters ofscarlet berries, themoors were taking ona pink cast with thefirst opening of theheather buds, blue-bells nodded by everypathside, and the wildrosebushes, whose riot-ous tangles, when I Historic Ground loi first came, were profusely adorned with bloom, haddropped their petals and were now dotted over withgreen hips. So, too, t
. The land of heather . Puttin oot the Dung. HISTORIC GROUND. Entrance to a Close MIDSUMMERhad come and passed, and there were hints ofautumn in the baremowing-fields, and inan occasional chillnight. The rowantrees in the dens werebeginning to get gaywith their clusters ofscarlet berries, themoors were taking ona pink cast with thefirst opening of theheather buds, blue-bells nodded by everypathside, and the wildrosebushes, whose riot-ous tangles, when I Historic Ground loi first came, were profusely adorned with bloom, haddropped their petals and were now dotted over withgreen hips. So, too, the hawthorn hedges which hadbeen in their fulness of frosty white two months beforewere now loaded with tiny haws. It was at this time that I took my final leave ofDrumtochty, intending to proceed more or less directlyto Edinburgh. But I was in no haste, and most ofthe first day I spent in getting better acquainted withPerth and its vicinity. Like all Scotch towns, Perthis very much crowded in its poorer parts, and manycurious little passageways dive in amo
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Keywords: ., bookauthorjohnsonc, bookcentury1900, bookdecade1900, bookyear1904
