“Na, sir; I never gang to the yillhouse--that is unless ony neighbour was to gie me a pint, or the like o' that; but to gang there on ane's ain coat-tail, is a waste o' precious time and hard-won siller.--But I was doun at the Trinlay-knowe, as I was saying, about a wee bit business o' my ain wi' Mattie Simpson, that wants a forpit or twa o' peers that will never be missed in the Ha'-house--and when we were at the thrangest o' our bargain, wha suld come in but Pate Macready the travelling merchant?” “Pedlar, I suppose you mean?” “E'en as your honour likes to ca' him; but it's a creditable calling and a gainfu', and has been lang in use wi' our folk. Pate's a far-awa cousin o' mine, and we were blythe to meet wi' ane anither.” “And you went and had a jug of ale together, I suppose, Andrew?--For Heaven's sake, cut short your story.” “Bide a wee--bide a wee; you southrons are aye in sic a hurry, and this is something concerns yourself, an ye wad tak patience to hear't--Yill?--deil a drap o' yill did Pate offer me; but Mattie gae us baith a drap skimmed milk, and ane o' her thick ait jannocks, that was as wat and raw as a divot. O for the bonnie girdle cakes o' the north!--and sae we sat doun and took out our clavers.” “I wish you would take them out just now. Pray, tell me the news, if you have got any worth telling, for I can't stop here all night.” “Than, if ye maun hae't, the folk in Lunnun are a' clean wud about this bit job in the north here.” “Clean wood! what's that?” “Ou, just real daft--neither to haud nor to bind--a' hirdy-girdy--clean through ither--the deil's ower Jock Wabster.” [Illustration: Frank and Andrew Fairservice--194] “But what does all this mean? or what business have I with the devil or Jack Webster?” “Umph!” said Andrew, looking extremely knowing, “it's just because--just that the dirdum's a' about yon man's pokmanty.” “Whose portmanteau? or what do you mean?” “Ou, just the man Morris's, that he said he lost yonder: but if it's no your honour's affair, as little is it mine; and I mauna lose this gracious evening.” And, as if suddenly seized with a violent fit of industry, Andrew began to labour most diligently. My attention, as the crafty knave had foreseen, was now arrested, and unwilling, at the same time, to acknowledge any particular interest in that affair, by asking direct questions, I stood waiting till the spirit of voluntary communication should again prompt him to resume his story. Andrew dug on manfully, and spoke at intervals, but nothing to the purpose of Mr. Macready's news; and I stood and listened, cursing him in my heart, and desirous at the same time to see how long his humour of contradiction would prevail over his desire of speaking upon the subject which was obviously uppermost in his mind.