There was life in the old burghs in those days, and wit and humour too, as witness Alexander Monipenny of Pitmilly's verses on Town Clerk Dishington "Oh were you e'er in Crail town Igo and ago An saw you there Clerk Dishington His wig was like a drouket hen, Ken ye aught o' Sir John Malcolm Ken ye aught o' Sandy Don, He's ten times dafter than Sir John." And so the verses run. We can imagine what roisterous nights these cronies had in the old burgh. The churchyard of Crail is specially rich in old monuments, and Mr. Erskine Beveridge of Dunfermline has devoted a handsome and well-illustrated volume to their consideration and elucidation. The most elegant of all the monuments is the mural tomb of the Airdie family. Erected in the year 1598, it was probably brought from Holland. Along the west wall of the church seems to have been the municipal burial-ground, for here under imposing tombs lie interred no less than eight bailies and a town treasurer. One of the earliest is that of Treasurer Andrew Millar, who was born in 1567 and died 1630 "Earthe tak my earth Satan my sinne heave stance heaven me Bailie Thomas Young who died in 1758, boasts of a longer and even more curious epitaph, which was the composition of a wellknown local character, James Kingo, Convenor of Trades, and highly esteemed as a wit and a poet. Here is his tribute to his friend "Here lys interred before this tomb And died December 6 interred the eight So he with great composure left this stage There is an interesting history attached to the epitaph as it now stands. About the year 1865 the inscription, which owing to the softness of the stone was almost obliterated, was coolly chiselled off by the owners of the burialplace adjoining, with a view to appropriating the monument to their own use. Surely we have here the very acme of meanness, the stealing of a grave stone! The minister and kirk-session however interposed, and had the inscription recut from memory. Some of the humbler stones too have interesting inscriptions, as, for instance, the follow ing KATHERINE WEIR 1795 K.W. Here lyes the corpse of rtson who dyed Oct 17 of Millions shall wish their lives below Rather a cynical reflection for so young a child. One day, while looking round among the old tombstones, I found a mason cutting an inscription on a new one. A few minutes' conversation about the craft of the stone-cutter led to his taking me round the churchyard, and pointing out the chief examples of his chisel during the last twenty years. He was a worker in wood, too, and invited me to his house, where among other pieces of work he had a series of violins, made by his own hands. On one of these was carved the old coat of arms of Crail, the boat with its crew, and on my examining it with interest he told me it was a faithful copy of the old burgh seal, and fetched an impression of the seal in plaster for my inspection. It seems that the old burgh seal of Crail had been lost for a long time, but some years ago, when with other workmen engaged in pulling down an old house, he came upon what turned out to be the die from which the old seals were stamped. The framework was worn and broken but the seal itself was intact, and on its being repaired a few copies were struck in plaster, one of which was given to my friend, the finder. CHAPTER XIII ST. ANDREWS THE old town of St. Andrews occupies a niche of its own. It possesses that indefinable quality which belongs to so few cities and towns; which Edinburgh possesses, but which Kirkcaldy does not, the supreme quality of distinction. And the reason is not far to seek. Though St. Andrew's Cathedral is now only a magnificent ruin, lifting its great gaunt gable to the sky, and though the reforming Calvinists did their best to purge the place from all such taint, yet the old spirit which haunts the English Cathedral closes still lingers here. Just as in the English Cathedral cities, the church is the centre round which the town arose, so we find it in St. Andrews. The cathedral occupies a commanding site by the |