“The kiln and the barn were rented by a man they ca’d John Playfair, and John Playfair subset them to anither man they ca’d Willy Cruickshank, and Willy Cruickshank purchased a cargo of damaged lint, and ye widna hinder Willy to dry the lint upon the kiln, and the lint took low and kindled the cupples, and the slates flew aff, and a’ the flooring was brunt to the ground, and naething left standin’ but the bare wa’s. “Now it wasna insured, and I want to ken wha’s to pay the damage, for John Playfair says he has naething _ado wi’ it_, and Willy Cruickshank says he has naething _to do it wi’_, and I am determined no to take it off their hand the way it is.” “Has it been in any of the Courts?” “Ou ay; it has been in the Shirra Court of Forfar; and Shirra Duff was a gude man, and he kent me, and would ha’ gien’t in my favour, but that clattering creature Jamie L’Amy cam’ in, and he gave it against me.” “I have no doubt Mr L’Amy would give a very fair decision.” “It wasna a fair decision when he gae it against me.” “That is what many people think in your circumstances.” “The minister of Blairgowrie is but a fule body, and advised me no to gae to the law.” “I think he gave you a very sensible advice.” “It was onything but that; and mind, if you dinna gie’t in my favour, I’ll no be sair pleased.” ‘Mr Jeffrey smiled, and said he would not promise to do that, and then inquired if she had any papers. “Ou ay, I have a great bundle of papers, and I’ll come back at any hour you please to appoint, and bring them wi’ me.” “It will not be necessary for you to return yourself; you can send them to me.” “And wha would you recommend to me for an agent in the business?” “That I cannot tell; it is not my province to recommend an agent.” “Then how will Robert Smith of Balharry do?” “Very well; very good man indeed; and you may bid him send me the papers.” ‘Meantime her Ladyship drew from her pocket a large old-fashioned leather pocket-book with silver clasps, out of which she presented him a letter directed to himself. He did not look into it, but threw it carelessly on the table. She now offered him a pinch of snuff from a massive gold box, and then selected another folded paper from the pocket-book, which she presented to him, saying: “Here is a prophecie that I would like you to look at and explain to me.” ‘He begged to be excused, saying: “I believe your Ladyship will find me more skilled in the _law_ than the _prophets_.” ‘She entreated him to look at it; and on glancing his eyes over it, he remarked, “that from the words _Tory_ and _Whig_, it did not seem to be a very ancient prophecy.”