woman, how the deuce am I to guide the blind man where he is going? I know little or nothing of the country."

"An ye ken mickle less of my hinny, sir," replied Maggie, that think he needs ony guiding; he's the best guide himsell, that ye'll find between Criffell and Carlisle. Horse-road and footpath, parish-road and kirk-road, high-road and cross-road, he kens ilka foot of ground in Nithsdale."

Ay, ye might have said in braid Scotland, gudewife," added the fiddler. "But gang your ways, Maggie, that's the first wise word ye hae spoke the day. I wish it was dark night, and rain, and wind, for the gentleman's sake, that I might show him there is whiles when ane had better want een than have them; for I am as true a guide by darkness as by daylight."

Internally as well pleased that my companion was not put to give me this last proof of his skill, I wrote a note with a pencil, desiring Samuel to bring my horses at midnight, when I thought my frolic would be well nigh over, to the place to which the bearer should direct him, and I sent little Benjie with an apology to the worthy Quakers.

As we parted in different directions, the good woman said, "Oh, sir, if ye wad but ask Willie to tell ve ane of his tales to shorten the gate! He can speak like ony minister frae the pu'pit, and he might have been a minister himsell, but"

"Haud your tongue, ye fule!" said Willie,-"But stay, Meg-gie me a kiss, we maunna part in anger, neither."-And thus our society separated.*

LETTER XI.

to consider whether I could, with propriety, or even perfect safety, intrude myself again upon the hospitality of my former host. I therefore asked Willie, whether we were bound for the Laird's, as folk called him.

"Do ye ken the Laird ?" said Willie, interrupting a sonata of Corelli, of which he had whistled several | bars with great precision.

"I know the Laird a little," said I; "and therefore, I was doubting whether I ought to go to his town in disguise."

And I should doubt, not a little only but a great deal, before I took ye there, my chap," said Wandering Willie; "for I am thinking it wad be worth little less than broken banes baith to you and me. Na, na, chap, we are no ganging to the Laird's, but to a blithe birling at the Brokenburn-foot, where there will be mony a braw lad and lass; and maybe there may be some of the Laird's folk, for he never comes to się splores himsell. He is all for fowling-piece and salmon spear, now that pike and musket are out of the question.'

"He has been a soldier, then?" said I.

"I'se warrant him a soger," answered Willie; "but take my advice and speer as little about him as he does about you. Best to let sleeping dogs lie. Better say naething about the Laird, my man, and tell me instead, what sort of a chap ve are, that are sae ready to cleik in with an auld gaberlunzie fiddler? Maggie says ye're gentle, but a shilling maks a' the difference that Maggie kens, between a gentle and a semple, and your crowns wad mak ye a prince of the blood in her een. But I am ane that kens full weel that ye may wear good claithes, and have a saft hand, and yet that may come of idleness as weel as gentrice.' I told him my name, with the same addition I had formerly given to Mr. Joshua Geddes; that I was a You are now to conceive us proceeding in our dif-law-student, tired of my studies, and rambling about ferent directions across the bare downs. Yonder flies little Benjie to the northward, with Hemp scampering at his heels, both running as if for dear life, so long as the rogue is within sight of his employer, and certain to take the walk very easy, so soon as he is out of ken. Stepping westward, you see Maggie's tall form and high-crowned hat, relieved by the fluttering of her plaid upon the left shoulder, darkening as the distance diminishes her size, and as the level sunbeams begin to sink upon the sea. She is taking her quiet journey to the Shepherd's Bush.

THE SAME TO THE SAME.

for exercise and amusement.

"And are ye in the wont of drawing up wi' a' the gangrel bodies that ye meet on the high-road, or find cowering in a sand-bunker upon the links?" demanded Willie.

"Oh no; only with honest folks like yourself, Willie," was my reply.

"Honest folks like me!-How do ye ken whether I am honest, or what I am?-I may be the deevil himsell for what ye ken; for he has power to come disguised like an angel of light; and besides, he is a prime fiddler. He played a sonata to Corelli, ye ken."

he was willing to try if he could frighten me. I laughed at the extravagance of his language, however, and asked him in reply, if he was fool enough to believe that the foul fiend would play so silly a masquerade.

Then, stoutly striding over the lea, you have a full view of Darsie Latimer, with his new acquaintance, Wandering Willie, who, bating that he touched the There was something odd in this speech, and the ground now and then with his staff, not in a doubtful tone in which it was said. It seemed as if my comgroping manner, but with the confident air of an ex-panion was not always in his constant mind, or that perienced pilot, heaving the lead when he has the soundings by heart, walks as firmly and boldly as if he possessed the eyes of Argus. There they go, each with his violin slung at his back, but one of them at least totally ignorant whither their course is directed. And wherefore did you enter so keenly into such a mad frolic? says my wise counsellor-Why, I think, upon the whole, that as a sense of loneliness, and a longing for that kindness which is interchanged in society, led me to take up my temporary residence at Mount Sharon, the monotony of my life there, the quiet simplicity of the conversation of the Geddeses, and the uniformity of their amusements and employments, wearied out my impatient temper, and prepared me for the first escapade which chance might throw in my way.

What would I have given that I could have procured that solemn grave visage of thine, to dignify this joke, as it has done full many a one of thine own! Thou hast so happy a knack of doing the most foolish things in the wisest manner, that thou mightst pass thy extravagances for rational actions, even in the eyes of prudence herself.

"Ye ken little about it-little about it," said the old man, shaking his head and beard, and knitting his brows-"I could tell ye something about that."

What his wife mentioned of his being a tale-teller, as well as a musician, now occurred to me; and as you know I like tales of superstition, I begged to have a specimen of his talent as we went along.

It is very true," said the blind man, that when I am tired of scraping thairm or singing ballants, I whiles make a tale serve the turn among the country bodies; and I have some fearsome anes, that make the auld carlines shake on the settle, and the bits o' bairns skirl on their minnies out frae their beds. But this that I am gaun to tell you was a thing that befell in our ain house in my father's time-that is, my father was then a hafflins callant; and I tell it to you, that

may be a lesson to you, that are but a young, thoughtless chap, wha ye draw up wi' on a lonely road; for muckle was the dool and care that came o't to my gudesire."

From the direction which my guide observed, I began to suspect that the dell at Brokenburn was our probable destination; and it became important to me He commenced his tale accordingly, in a distinct It is certain that in many cases the blind have, by constant narrative tone of voice, which he raised and depressed exercise of their other organs, learned to overcome a defect with considerable skill; at times sinking almost into which one would think incapable of being supplied. Every reader must remember the celebrated Blind Jack of Knaresbo a whisper, and turning his clear but sightless eyeballs rough, who lived by laying out roads upon my face, as if it had been possible for him to

witness the impression which his narrative made upon my features. I will not spare you a syllable of it, although it be of the longest; so I make a dash- and begin

WANDERING WILLIE'S TALE.

YE maun have heard of Sir Robert Redgauntlet of that Ilk, who lived in these parts before the dear years. The country will lang mind him; and our fathers used to draw breath thick if ever they heard him named. He was out wi' the Hielandmen in Montrose's time; and again he was in the hills wi' Glencairn in the saxteen hundred and fifty-twa; and sae when King Charles the Second came in, wha was in sic favour as the Laird of Redgauntlet? He was knighted at Lonon court, wi' the King's ain sword; and being a redhot prelatist, he came down here, rampauging like a lion, with commissions of lieutenancy, (and of lunacy, for what I ken,) to put down a' the Whigs and Covenanters in the country. Wild wark they made of it; for the Whigs were as dour as the Cavaliers were fierce, and it was which should first tire the other. Redgauntlet was aye for the strong hand; and his name is kend as wide in the country as Claverhouse's or Tam Dalyell's. Glen, nor dargle, nor mountain, nor cave, could hide the puir hill-folk when Redgauntlet was out with bugle and bloodhound after them, as if they had been sae mony deer. And troth when they fand them, they didna mak muckle mair ceremony than a Hielandman wi' a roebuck-It was just, "Will ye tak the test?"-if not, "Make ready-present-fire!"-and there lay the re

cusant.

great as they feared, and other folk thought for. The Whigs made an unco crawing what they wad do with their auld enemies, and in special wi' Sir Robert Redgauntlet. But there were ower mony great folks dipped in the same doings, to mak a spick and span new warld. So parliament passed it a' ower easy; and Sir Robert, bating that he was held to hunting foxes instead of Covenanters, remained just the man he was. His revel was as loud, and his hall as wel lighted, as ever it had been, though maybe he lacked the fines of the non-conformists, that used to come to stock his larder and cellar; for it is certain he began to be keener about the rents than his tenants used to find him before, and they behoved to be prompt to the rent-day, or else the Laird wasna pleased. And he was sic an awsome body, that naebody cared to anger him; for the oaths he swore, and the rage that he used to get into, and the looks that he put on, made men sometimes think him a devil incarnate. Weel, my gudesire was nae manager-no that he was a very great misguider-but he hadna the saving gift, and he got twa terms' rent in arrear. He got the first brash at Whitsunday put ower wi' fair word and piping; but when Martinmas came, there was a summons from the grund-officer to come wi' the rent on a day preceese, or else Steenie behoved to flit. Sair wark he had to get the siller; but he was weelfreended, and at last he got the haill scraped thegither-a thousand merks-the maist of it was from a neighbour they caa'd Laurie Lapraik-a sly tod Laurie had walth o' gear-could hunt wi' the hound and rin wi' the hare-and be Whig or Tory, saunt or sinner, as the wind stood. He was a professor in this Revolution warld, but he liked an orra sough of this

time, and abune a', he thought he had gude security for the siller he lent my gudesire ower the stocking at Primrose-Knowe.

Far and wide was Sir Robert hated and feared. Men thought he had a direct compact with Satan-warld; and a tune on the pipes weel aneugh at a bythat he was proof against steel-and that bullets happed aff his buff-coat like hailstanes from a hearth that he had a mear that would turn a hare on the side of Carrifra-gawns*-and muckle to the same purpose, of whilk mair anon. The best blessing they wared on him was, "Deil scowp wi' Redgauntlet!" He wasna a bad maister to his ain folk though, and was weel aneugh liked by his tenants; and as for the lackies and troopers that raid out wi' him to the persecutions, as the Whigs caa'd those killing times, they wad hae drunken themsells blind to his health at ony time.

Now you are to ken that my gudesire lived on Redgauntlet's grund-they ca' the place Primrose-Knowe. We had lived on the grund, and under the Redgauntlets, since the riding days, and lang before. It was a pleasant bit; and I think the air is callerer and fresher there than ony where else in the country. It's a' deserted now; and I sat on the broken door-cheek three days since, and was glad I couldna see the plight the place was in; but that's a' wide o' the mark. There dwelt my gudesire Steenie Steenson, a rambling, rattling chiel he had been in his young days, and could play weel on the pipes; he was famous at "Hoopers and Girders"-a' Cumberland couldna touch him at "Jockie Lattin"-and he had the finest finger for the back-lilt between Berwick and Carlisle. The like o' Steenie wasna the sort that they made Whigs o'. And so he became a Tory, as they ca' it, which we now ca' Jacobites, just out of a kind of needcessity, that he might belang to some side or other. He had nae ill-will to the Whig bodies, and liked little to see the blude rin, though, being obliged to follow Sir Robert in hunting and hosting, watching and warding, he saw muckle mischief, and maybe did some, that he couldna avoid.

Away trots my gudesire to Redgauntlet Castle, wi a heavy purse and a light heart, glad to be out of the Laird's danger. Weel, the first thing he learned at the Castle was, that Sir Robert had fretted himselt into a fit of the gout, because he did not appear be fore twelve o'clock. It wasna a'thegither for sake of the money, Dougal thought; but because he didna like to part wi' my gudesire aff the grund. Dougal was glad to see Steenie, and brought him into the great oak parlour, and there sat the Laird his leesome lane, excepting that he had beside him a great, illfavoured jackanape, that was a special pet of his; a canckered beast it was, and mony an ill-natured trick it played-ill to please it was, and easily angeredran about the haill castle, chattering and yowling and pinching and biting folk, especially before ill weather, or disturbances in the state. Sir Robert caa'd it Major Weir, after the warlock that was burnt;t and few folk liked either the name or the conditions of the creature-they thought there was something in it by ordinar-and my gudesire was not just easy in his mind when the door shut on him, and he saw himself in the room wi' naebody but the Laird, Dougal MacCallum, and the Major, a thing that hadna chanced to him before.

Sir Robert sat, or, I should say, lay, in a great armed chair, wi' his grand velvet gown, and his feet on a cradle; for he had baith gout and gravel, and his face looked as gash and ghastly as Satan's. Major Weir sat opposite to him, in a red laced coat, and the Laird's wig on his head; and aye as Sir Robert girned wi' pain, the jackanape girned too, like a sheep's-head between a pair of tangs-an ill-faured, Now Steenie was a kind of favourite with his mas-fearsome couple they were. The Laird's buff-coat ter, and kend a' the folks about the castle, and was often sent for to play the pipes when they were at their merriment. Auld Dougal MacCullum, the butler, that had followed Sir Robert through gude and ill, thick and thin, pool and stream, was specially fond of the pipes, and aye gae my gudesire his gude word wi' the Laird; for Dougal could turn his master round his finger.

Weel, round came the Revolution, and it had like to have broken the hearts baith of Dougal and his master. But the change was not a'thegither sae

* A precipitous side of a mountain in Moffatdale.

was hung on a pin behind him, and his broadsword and his pistols within reach; for he keepit up the auld fashion of having the weapons ready, and a horse

The caution and moderation of King William III, and his

principles of unlimited toleration, deprived the Cameronians of the opportunity they ardently desired, to retaliate the injuries which they had received during the reign of prelsey, and purify the land, as they called it, from the pollution of blood. which neither comprehended the rebuilding the Kirk in its They esteemed the Revolution, therefore, only a half measure, full splendour, nor the revenge of the death of the Saints on their persecutors.

A celebrated wizard, executed at Edinburgh for sorcery and other crimes.

"Are ye come light-handed, ye son of a toom whistle?" said Sir Robert. "Zounds! if you are"- When midnight came, and the house was quiet as My gudesire, with as gude a countenance as he the grave, sure aneugh the silver whistle sounded as could put on, made a leg, and placed the bag of money sharp and shrill as if Sir Robert was blowing it, and on the table wi' a dash, like a man that does some-up gat the twa auld serving-men, and tottered into the thing clever. The Laird drew it to him hastily-room where the dead man lay. Hutcheon saw "Is it all here, Steenie, man?" aneugh at the first glance; for there were torches in the room, which showed him the foul fiend in his ane shape, sitting on the Laird's coffin! Over he cowped as if he had been dead. He could not tell how lang he lay in a trance at the door, but when he gathered himself, he cried on his neighbour, and getting nae answer, raised the house, when Dougal was found lying dead within twa steps of the bed where his master's coffin was placed. As for the whistle, it was gane anes and aye; but mony a time was it heard at the top of the house on the bartizan, and amang the auld chimneys and turrets, where the howlets have their nests. Sir John hushed the matter up, and the funeral passed over without mair bogle-wark.

But they werena weel out of the room, when Sir Robert gied a yelloch that garr'd the Castle rock! Back ran Dougal-in flew the livery-men-yell on yell gied the Laird, ilk ane mair awfu' than the ither. My gudesire knew not whether to stand or flee, but he ventured back into the parlour, where a' was gaun hirdy-girdie-naebody to say 'come in,' or 'gae out.' Terribly the Laird roared for cauld water to his feet, and wine to cool his throat; and hell, hell, hell, and its flames,. was aye the word in his mouth. They brought him water, and when they plunged his swoln feet into the tub, he cried out it was burning; and folk say that it did bubble and sparkle like a seething caldron. He flung the cup at Dougal's head, and said he had given him blood instead of burgundy; and, sure aneugh, the lass washed clotted blood aff the carpet the neist day. The jackanape they caa'd Major Weir, it jibbered and cried as if it was mocking its master; my gudesire's head was like to turn-he forgot baith siller and receipt, and down stairs he banged; but as he ran, the shrieks came faint and fainter; there was a deep-drawn shivering groan, and word gaed through the Castle, that the Laird was dead.

Weel, away came my gudesire, wi' his finger in his mouth, and his best hope was, that Dougal had seen the money-bag, and heard the Laird speak of writing the receipt. The young Laird, now Sir John, came from Edinburgh, to see things put to rights. Sir John and his father never gree'd weel. Sir John had been bred an advocate, and afterwards sat in the last Scots Parliament and voted for the Union, having gotten, it was thought, a rug of the compensations-if his father could have come out of his grave, he would have brained him for it on his awn hearthstane. Some thought it was easier counting with the Ay, Steenie," quoth the Laird, sighing deeply and auld rough Knight than the fair-spoken young ane-putting his napkin to his een, "his was a sudden call, but mair of that anon. and he will be missed in the country; no time to set his house in order-weel prepared Godward, no doubt, which is the root of the matter-but left us behind a tangled hesp to wind, Steenie.-Hem! hem! We maun go to business, Steenie; much to do, and little time to do it in."

Dougal MacCallum, poor body, neither grat nor graned, but gaed about the house looking like a corpse, but directing, as was his duty, a' the order of the grand funeral. Now, Dougal looked aye waur and waur when night was coming, and was aye the last to gang to his bed, whilk was in a little round just opposite the chamber of dais, whilk his master Occupied while he was living, and where he now lay in state, as they caa'd it weel-a-day! The night before the funeral, Dougal could keep his awn counsel nae langer; he came doun with his proud spirit, and fairly asked auld Hutcheon to sit in his room with him for an hour. When they were in the round, Dougal took ae tass of brandy to himsell, and gave another to Hucheon, wished him all health and lang life, and said that, for himsell, he was na lang for this world; for that, every night since Sir Robert's death, his silver call had sounded from the state chamber, just as it used to do at nights in his lifetime, Vol. IV 4 A

Here he opened the fatal volume. I have heard of a thing they call Doomsday-book-I am clear it has been a rental of back-ganging tenants.

'Stephen," said Sir John, still in the same soft, sleekit tone of voice "Stephen Stephenson, or Steenson, ye are down here for a year's rent behind the the hand-due at last term."

Stephen. "Please your honour, Sir John, I paid it to your father."

Sir John. "Ye took a receipt then, doubtless, Ste phen; and can produce it?"

Stephen. "Indeed I hadna time, an it like your honour; for nae sooner had I set doun the siller, and just as his honour Sir Robert, that's gaen, drew it till

him to count, and write out the receipt, he was ta'en | Laird swearing blood and wounds behind him, as wi' the pains that removed him." fast as ever did Sir Robert, and roaring for the baile and the baron-officer,

"I wad be laith to charge them that may be inno-I cent," said my gudesire;" and if there be any one that is guilty, I have nae proof."

"Somewhere the money must be, if there is a word of truth in your story," said Sir John; "I ask where you think it is-and demand a correct answer?"

"In hell, if you will have my thoughts of it," said my gudesire, driven to extremity,-"in hell! with your father, his jackanape, and his silver whistle!" Down the stairs he ran, (for the parlour was nae place for him after such a word,) and he heard the

My gudesire's hair stood on end at this proposal, but he thought his companion might be some humoursome chield that was trying to frighten him, and might end with lending him the money. Besides, he was bauld wi' brandy, and desperate wi' distress; and he said, he had courage to go to the gate of hell, and a step farther for that receipt.-The stranger laughed.

Weel, they rode on through the thickest of the wood, when, all of a sudden, the horse stopped at the door of a great house; and, but that he knew the place was ten miles off, my father would have thought he was at Redgauntlet Castle. They rode into the outer court-yard, through the muckle faulding yetts, and aneath the auld portcullis; and the whole front of the house was lighted, and there were pipes and fiddles, and as much dancing and deray within as used to be in Sir Robert's house at Pace and Yule, and such high seasons. They lap off, and my gudesire, as seemed to him, fastened his horse to the very ring he had tied him to that morning, when he gaed to wait on the young Sir John.

"God!" said my gudesire, "if Sir Robert's death be but a dream!"

He knocked at the ha' door just as he was wont, and his auld acquaintance, Dougal MacCallum,-just after his wont, too,-came to open the door, and said, Piper Steenie, are ye there, lad? Sir Robert has been crying for you."

them with a melancholy, haughty countenance; while
the rest hallooed, and sung, and laughed, that the
room rang. But their smiles were fearfully contorted
from time to time; and their laughter passed into
such wild sounds, as made my gudesire's very nails
grow blue, and chilled the marrow in his banes.
They that waited at the table were just the wicked
serving-men and troopers, that had done their work
and cruel bidding on earth. There was the Lang
Lad of the Nethertown, that helped to take Argyle;
and the Bishop's summoner, that they called the
Deil's Rattle-bag; and the wicked guardsmen, in
their laced coats; and the savage Highland Amorites,
that shed blood like water; and many a proud serving-
man, haughty of heart and bloody of hand, cringing
to the rich, and making them wickeder than they
would be; grinding the poor to powder, when the rich
had broken them to fragments. And mony, mony
mair were coming and ganging, a' as busy in their
vocation as if they had been alive.

Sir Robert Redgauntlet, in the midst of a' this fearful riot, cried, wi' a voice like thunder, on Steenie Piper, to come to the board-head where he was sitting; his legs stretched out before him, and swathed up with flannel, with his holster pistols aside him, while the great broadsword rested against his chair, just as my gudesire had seen him the last time upon earth-the very cushion for the jackanape was close to him, but the creature itsell was not there-it wasna its hour, it's likely; for he heard them say as he came forward, "Is not the Major come yet?" And another answered, "The jackanape will be here betimes the morn.' And when my gudesire came forward, Sir "Never fash yoursell wi' me," said Dougal, "but Robert, or his ghaist, or the deevil in his likeness, look to yoursell; and see ye tak naething frae ony-said, "Weel, piper, hac ye settled wi' my son for the body here, neither meat, drink, or siller, except just year's rent?" the receipt that is your ain."

My gudesire was like a man in a dream-he looked for the stranger, but he was gane for the time. At last he just tried to say, "Ha! Dougal Driveower, are ye living? I thought ye had been dead."

So saying, he led the way out through halls and trances that were weel kend to my gudesire, and into the auld oak parlour; and there was as much singing of profane songs, and birling of red wine, and speaking blasphemy and sculduddry, as had ever been in Redgauntlet Castle when it was at the blithest.

With much ado my father gat breath to say, that Sir John would not settle without his honour's receipt.

Ye shall hae that for a tune of the pipes, Steenie," said the appearance of Sir Robert-" Play us up, 'Weel hoddled, Luckie.'

"MacCallum, ye limb of Beelzebub," said the fearfu' Sir Robert, "bring Steenie the pipes that I am keeping for him!"

Now this was a tune my gudesire learned frae a But, Lord take us in keeping! what a set of ghastly warlock, that heard when they were worshipping revellers they were that sat round that table! My Satan at their meetings; and my gudesire had somegudesire kend mony that had long before gane to times played it at the ranting suppers in Redgauntlet their place, for often had he piped to the most part in Castle, but never very willingly; and now he grew the hall of Redgauntlet. There was the fierce Mid-cauld at the very name of it, and said, for excuse, he dleton, and the dissolute Rothes, and the crafty Lau-hadna his pipes wi' him. derdale; and Dalyell, with his bald head and a beard to his girdle; and Earlshall, with Cameron's blude on his hand; and wild Bonshaw, that tied blessed Mr. Cargill's limbs till the blude sprung; and Dumbarton Douglas, the twice-turned traitor baith to country and king. There was the Bluidy Advocate MacKenyie, who, for his wordly wit and wisdom, had been to the rest as a god. And there was Claverhouse, as beautiful as when he lived, with his long, dark, curled locks, streaming down over his laced buff-coat, and his left hand always on his right spuleblade, to hide the wound that the silver bullet had made. He sat apart from them all, and looked at

The personages here mentioned are most of them characters

of historical fame; but those less known and remembered may be found in the tract entitled, "The Judgment and Justice of God Exemplified, or, a Brief Historical Account of some of the Wicked Lives and Miserable Deaths of some of the most remark able Apostates and Bloody Persecutors, from the Reformation till after the Revolution." This constitutes a sort of posteript or appendix to John Howie of Lochgoin's "Account of the has, with considerable ingenuity, reversed his reasoning upon the inference to be drawn from the prosperity or misfortunes which befall individuals in this world, either in the course of their lives or in the hour of death. In the account of the martyrs' sufferings, such inflictions are mentioned only as trials permitted by Providence, for the better and brighter display of their faith, and constancy of principle. But when similar af fictions befell the opposite party, they are imputed to the direct vengeance of Heaven upon their impiety. If, indeed, the life of any person obnoxious to the historian's censures happened to have passed in unusual prosperity, the mere fact of its being finally concluded by death, is assumed as an undeniable token of the judgment of Heaven, and, to render the conclusion inevitable, his last scene is generally garnished with some singular circumstances. Thus the Duke of Lauderdale is said, through old age but immense corpulence, to have become so sunk in spirits, "that his heart was not the bigness of a walnut."

Lives of the most eminent Scots Worthies." The author

MacCallum brought a pair of pipes which might have served the piper of Donald of the Isles. But he gave my gudesire a nudge as he offered them; and looking secretly and closely, Steenie saw that the chanter was of steel, and heated to a white heat; so he had fair warning not to trust his fingers with it. So he excused himself again, and said, he was faint and frightened, and had not wind aneugh to fill the bag.

"Then ye maun eat and drink, Steenie," said the figure; "for we do little else here; and it's ill speaking between a fou man and a fasting."

Now these were the very words that the bloody Earl of Douglas said to keep the King's messenger in hand, while he cut the head off MacLellan of Bombie, at the Threave Castle;* and that put Steenie mair and mair on his guard. So he spoke up like a man, and said he came neither to eat, or drink, or make minstrelsy; but simply for his ain-to ken what was come o' the money he had paid, and to get a discharge for it; and he was so stout-hearted by this time, that he charged Sir Robert for conscience-sake-(he had no power to say the holy name)--and as he hoped for peace and rest, to spread no snares for him, but just to give him his ain.

The appearance gnashed its teeth and laughed, but it took from a large pocket book the receipt, and handed it to Steenie. There is your receipt, ye pitiful cur: and for the money, my dog-whelp of a son may go look for it in the Cat's Cradle."

*The reader is referred for particulars to Pitscottie's History of Scotland.