“I was just taking a spell,” said he, laying aside the huge folio volume as I entered, “of the worthy Doctor Lightfoot.” “Lightfoot!” I replied, looking at the ponderous volume with some surprise; “surely your author was unhappily named.” “Lightfoot was his name, sir; a divine he was, and another kind of a divine than they hae now-adays. Always, I crave your pardon for keeping ye standing at the door, but having been mistrysted (gude preserve us!) with ae bogle the night already, I was dubious o' opening the yett till I had gaen through the e'ening worship; and I had just finished the fifth chapter of Nehemiah--if that winna gar them keep their distance, I wotna what will.” “Trysted with a bogle!” said I; “what do you mean by that, Andrew?” “I said mistrysted,” replied Andrew; “that is as muckle as to say, fley'd wi' a ghaist--Gude preserve us, I say again!” “Flay'd by a ghost, Andrew! how am I to understand that?” “I did not say flay'd,” replied Andrew, “but _fley'd,_--that is, I got a fleg, and was ready to jump out o' my skin, though naebody offered to whirl it aff my body as a man wad bark a tree.” “I beg a truce to your terrors in the present case, Andrew, and I wish to know whether you can direct me the nearest way to a town in your country of Scotland, called Glasgow?” “A town ca'd Glasgow!” echoed Andrew Fairservice. “Glasgow's a ceety, man.--And is't the way to Glasgow ye were speering if I ken'd?--What suld ail me to ken it?--it's no that dooms far frae my ain parish of Dreepdaily, that lies a bittock farther to the west. But what may your honour be gaun to Glasgow for?” “Particular business,” replied I. “That's as muckle as to say, Speer nae questions, and I'll tell ye nae lees.--To Glasgow?”--he made a short pause--“I am thinking ye wad be the better o' some ane to show you the road.” “Certainly, if I could meet with any person going that way.” “And your honour, doubtless, wad consider the time and trouble?” “Unquestionably--my business is pressing, and if you can find any guide to accompany me, I'll pay him handsomely.” “This is no a day to speak o' carnal matters,” said Andrew, casting his eyes upwards; “but if it werena Sabbath at e'en, I wad speer what ye wad be content to gie to ane that wad bear ye pleasant company on the road, and tell ye the names of the gentlemen's and noblemen's seats and castles, and count their kin to ye?” “I tell you, all I want to know is the road I must travel; I will pay the fellow to his satisfaction--I will give him anything in reason.” “Onything,” replied Andrew, “is naething; and this lad that I am speaking o' kens a' the short cuts and queer by-paths through the hills, and”-- “I have no time to talk about it, Andrew; do you make the bargain for me your own way.” “Aha! that's speaking to the purpose,” answered Andrew.--“I am thinking, since sae be that sae it is, I'll be the lad that will guide you mysell.” “You, Andrew?--how will you get away from your employment?”