At first I thought of letting the thing take its natural course, and of threaping down Cursecowl's throat that he must have been feloniously keeping in his breath when Tammie took his measure; and, moreover, that as it was the fashion to be straight-laced, Tammie had done his utmost trying to make him look like his betters; till, my conscience checking me for such a nefarious intention, I endeavoured, as became me in the relations of man, merchant, and Christian, to solder the matter peaceably, and show him, if there was a fault committed, that there was no evil intention on my side of the house. To this end I dispatched the bit servant wench, on the Friday afternoon, to deliver the coat, which was neatly tied up in brown paper, and directed--"Mr Cursecowl, with care," and to buy a sheep's head; bidding her, by way of being civil, give my kind compliments, and enquire how Mr and Mrs Cursecowl, and the five little Miss Cursecowls, were keeping their healths, and trusting to his honour in sending me a good article. But have a moment's patience. Being busy at the time, turning a pair of kuttikins for old Mr Mooleypouch the mealmonger, when the lassie came back, I had no mind of asking a sight of the sheep's head, as I aye like the little blackfaced, in preference to the white, fat, fozy Cheviot breed; but, most providentially, I catched a gliskie of the wench passing the shop window, on the road over to Jamie Coom the smith's, to get it singed, having been dispatched there by her mistress. Running round the counter like lightning, I opened the sneck, and halooed to her to wheel to the right about, having, somehow or other, a superstitious longing to look at the article. As I was saying, there was a Providence in this, which, at the time, mortal man could never have thought of. James Batter had popped in with a newspaper in his hand, to read me a curious account of a mermaid, that was seen singing a Gaelic song, and combing its hair with a tortoise-shell comb, someway terrible far north about Shetland, by a respectable minister of the district, riding home in the gloaming after a presbytery dinner. So, as he was just taking off his spectacles cannily, and saying to me--"And was not that droll?"--the lassie spread down her towel on the counter, when, lo and behold! such an abominable spectacle! James Batter observing me run back, and turn white, put on his glasses again, cannily taking them out of his well-worn shagreen case, and, giving a stare down at the towel, almost touched the beast's nose with his own. "And what, in the name of goodness, is the matter?" quo' James Batter; "ye seem in a wonderful quandary." "The matter!" answered I, in astonishment; looking to see if the man had lost his sight or his senses--"the matter! who ever saw a sheep's head with straight horns, and a visnomy all colours of the rainbow--red, blue, orange, green, yellow, white, and black?"