“It’s nae muckle of a story; but the way of it was this. When Montrose came back from London, he brought with him a few Englishers to show them the Highlands, and let them see something of deer-stalking,--among the rest, a certain Sir George Sowerby, an aide-de-camp or an equerry of the prince. He was a vara fine gentleman, that never loaded his ain gun, and a’most thought it too much trouble to pull the trigger. He went out every morning to shoot with his hair curled like a woman, and dressed like a dancing-master. Now, there happened to be at the same time at the castle the Laird o’ M’Nab; he was a kind of cousin of the Montrose, and a rough old tyke of the true Hieland breed, wha’ thought that the head of a clan was fully equal to any king or prince. He sat opposite to Sir George at dinner the day of his arrival, and could not conceal his surprise at the many new-fangled ways of feeding himself the Englisher adopted. He ate his saumon wi’ his fork in ae hand, and a bittock of bread in the other. He would na touch the whiskey; helped himself to a cutlet wi’ his fingers. But what was maist extraordinary of all, he wore a pair o’ braw white gloves during the whole time o’ dinner and when they came to tak’ away the cloth, he drew them off with a great air, and threw them into the middle of it, and then, leisurely taking anither pair off a silver salver which his ain man presented, he pat them on for dessert. The M’Nab, who, although an auld-fashioned carl, was aye fond of bringing something new hame to his friends, remarked the Englisher’s proceeding with great care, and the next day he appeared at dinner wi’ a huge pair of Hieland mittens, which he wore, to the astonishment of all and the amusement of most, through the whole three courses; and exactly as the Englishman changed his gloves, the M’Nab produced a fresh pair of goats’ wool, four times as large as the first, which, drawing on with prodigious gravity, he threw the others into the middle of the cloth, remarking, as he did so,-- “‘Ye see, Captain, we are never ower auld to learn.’ “All propriety was now at an end, and a hearty burst of laughter from one end of the table to the other convulsed the whole company,--the M’Nab and the Englishman being the only persons who did not join in it, but sat glowering at each other like twa tigers; and, indeed, it needed, a’ the Montrose’s interference that they had na quarrelled upon it in the morning.” “The M’Nab was a man after my own heart,” said Maurice; “there was something very Irish in the lesson he gave the Englishman.” “I’d rather ye’d told him that than me,” said the doctor, dryly; “he would na hae thanked ye for mistaking him for ane of your countrymen.” “Come, Doctor,” said Dennis, “could not ye give us a stave? Have ye nothing that smacks of the brown fern and the blue lakes in your memory?” “I have na a sang in my mind just noo except ‘Johnny Cope,’ which may be might na be ower pleasant for the Englishers to listen to.”