Few who ""in dream behold the Hebrides"" actually live on those sea-swept islands, but the English author of this casually charming book, a sequel to her The Hills Is Lonely, does so, and tells of her experiences as the owner of a cottage and a croft, or small farm, on the island of ""Bruach"". Describing herself as a middle-aged spinster, the author tells of coming to Bruach for rest and privacy, buying a cottage lacking modern conveniences, and farming her croft herself, cutting peat, digging potatoes, milking her cow under difficulties, helping her neighbors make hay. Finding little privacy but many friends, she staged a pantomime, went on a tour to the mainland and gave a riotous Christmas party assisted by the Islanders, individualists with few inhibitions who were unfailingly generous and sympathetic in time of trouble and unfailingly casual at other times. Although devoted to her Hebridean neighbors the author has few illusions about them: ""'The Hebridean"", declaimed the holidaymaker from Glasgow, 'are very pure, you know'. I didn't know.... I wondered if she would next trot out the myth that crofters and hard working. She did. This witty and refreshingly unsentimental account of a woman's life in the Hebrides today will appeal to authentic and armchair Scotland-bound travelers, men as well as women and to those pampered housewives who think they yearn for remote cottages on foggy islands.