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The Highland monthly - National Library of Scotland

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630 1 he Hi(rhland Montkiyface <strong>of</strong> a corpulent navvy who sat right opposite me. Hisfat cheeks wobbled about to every motion like two plates <strong>of</strong>porridge, and the wonder is they didn't fall out.I felt myself to be an object <strong>of</strong> considerable curiosity. Iwas stared at by some fifty pairs <strong>of</strong> eyes as if I were somenew kind <strong>of</strong> animal, or a royal prince. Not a word wasspoken ; words could not be heard in the deafening dinwhich accompanied our progress. So they simply sat withtheir elbows on their knees, and smoked, and glared. Itried to look comfortable and at home;but am cognizantthat the effort was a dismal failure. My bright and polishedboots would obtrude themselves, and I felt almost ashamed<strong>of</strong> them, and tried to keep them out <strong>of</strong> sight. My glovesI covertly took <strong>of</strong>f, and hid them away in my pocket in acowardly way. I tried to look as if my umbrella was anuisance, and there purely by accident. My ulster I coulddo nothing to ameliorate, so I had to brazen it out, an effortwhich nearly failed when the man with the wobbly cheeksput out his hand and calmly felt the quality <strong>of</strong> it. <strong>The</strong>result <strong>of</strong> his investigation was apparently satisfactory, for hewinked to me confidentially, and with pr<strong>of</strong>ound gravity.As I have said, I tried to look comfortable, but I failed*<strong>The</strong> eyes <strong>of</strong> the working class were on me, and I was intrusiveand dandyfied and mean and worthless ;in short, I felt likea bloated capitalist.As it was equally possible to see through the windowsas to see through the wooden sides <strong>of</strong> the car, nothing <strong>of</strong>the new line or <strong>of</strong> the scenery could be seen ; andit wasnot until we stopped at the end <strong>of</strong> Loch Treig, where friendMacdougall said we must change carriages, that I had anopportunity <strong>of</strong> seeing anything. It was with a thankfulfeeling that I greedily filled my lungs with pure air. Itwas even more refreshing than a deep, deep draught <strong>of</strong>pure water after an intolerable thirst. It was some timebefore I could get enough <strong>of</strong> it, and anything more refreshingor agreeable I have seldom experienced.However, there was no time for looking at scenery oranything else, for we had to hurriedly climb over a mass <strong>of</strong>

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