The second illustration is from the pencil of Cruikshank. The common people had throughout the day toiled and struggled at football. The usual revels had taken place, and the carnival was closing quietly in general, but in some places the sport was still kept up. One company of revellers seemed unwilling to conclude their frolic. The Entry, as it was called, consisted of thirteen persons, habited in the same manner, having doublets of chamois leather sitting close to their bodies, curiously slashed and laced. They wore green caps with silver tassels, red ribands, and white shoes, had bells hung at their knees and around their ankles, and naked swords in their hands. This gallant party, having exhibited a sword-dance before the king, with much clashing of weapons, and fantastic interchange of postures, went on gallantly to repeat their exhibition before the door of Simon Glover, where, having made a fresh exhibition of their agility, they caused wine to be served round to their own company and the bystanders, and with a loud shout drank to the health of the Fair Maid. [Illustration: 123] [Illustration: 124] ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN. ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN, or the "Maiden of the Mist" was published in May 1829. "It may," writes Mr Lockhart, "be almost called the last work of Scott's imaginative genius, and it was received at least as well (out of Scotland, that is), as the 'Fair Maid of Perth' had been, or indeed as any novel of his after the Crusaders. I partake very strongly, I am aware, in the feeling which most of my own countrymen have little shame in avowing, that no novel of his where neither scenery nor character is Scottish, belongs to the same pre-eminent class with those in which he paints and peoples his native landscape. I have confessed that I cannot rank even his best English romances with such creations as 'Waverley' and 'Old Mortality;' far less can I believe that posterity will attach similar value to this Maid of the Mist Its pages, however, display in undiminished perfection all the skill and grace of the mere artist, with occasional outbreaks of the old poetic spirit, more than sufficient to remove the work to an immeasurable distance from any of its order produced in this country in our own age. Indeed, the various plays of fancy in the combination of persons and events, and the airy liveliness of both imagery and diction, may well justify us in applying to the author what he beautifully says of his King René-- 'A mirthful man he was; the snows of age Fell, but they did not chill him. Gaiety Even in life's closing, touch'd his teeming brain With such wild visions as the setting sun Raises in front of some hoar glacier, Painting the bleak ice with a thousand hues.'"