Their innate and highly-cultivated power of observation, not only as
regards the ever-varying aspects of nature, but also as regards the
quaint, droll, and humorous varieties of character, concur in rendering
their conversation most delightful. I look back on these walks as
among the brightest points in my existence. I have been led to digress
on this subject. Although more correctly belonging to my father's
life, yet it is so amalgamated with my own that it almost forms part of
it, and it is difficult for me to separate the one from the other.

And then there were the pleasant evenings at home. When the day's work
was over, friends looked in to have a fireside crack--sometimes
scientific men, sometimes artists, often both. They were all made
welcome. There was no formality about their visits. Had they been
formal, there would have been comparatively little pleasure.
The visitor came in with his "Good e'en", and seated himself.
The family went on with their work as before. The girls were usually
busy with their needles, and others with pen and pencil. My father
would go on with the artistic work he had in hand, for his industry was
incessant. He would model a castle or a tree, or proceed with some
proposed improvement of the streets or approaches of the rapidly
expanding city. Among the most agreeable visitors were Professor
Leslie, James Jardine, C.E., and Dr. Brewster. Their conversation was
specially interesting. They brought up the last new thing in science,
in discovery, in history, or in campaigning, for the war was then
raging throughout Europe.

The artists were a most welcome addition to the family group.
Many a time did they set the table in a roar with their quaint and
droll delineations of character. These unostentatious gatherings of
friends about our fireside were a delightful social institution.