George greatly admired; but there was one which particularly attracted his attention; and after examining it very minutely, he, with a surprised expression, inquired of his conductor whose picture it was? and received answer—“It is my great-great-grandfather’s”. “My goodness!” exclaimed Sir George, “the very man who spoke to me three times on three successive days in Leith Walk, and at whose urgent request I came here!” Sir George, at his own request, was then conducted to the attics, in one of which there was a large mass of old papers, which was turned up and examined without discovering anything to assist them in prosecuting the claim to the heirship of the property. However, as they were about giving up the search, Sir George noticed an old trunk lying in a corner, which, his companion told him, had lain there for many a year as lumber, and contained nothing. The Leith Walk gentleman’s information recurring to Sir George, he gave the old moth-eaten chest a good hearty kick, such as he could wish to have been received by his “learned friend” the barrister, who spoke so disrespectfully of his country. The bottom flew out of the trunk, with a quantity of chaff, among which the original titles to the property were discovered. Next morning, Sir George entered the court just as the case was about to be called and addressed the pretended claimant’s counsel—“Well, sir, what shall I offer you to abandon this action?” “No sum, or any consideration whatever, would induce me to give it up,” answered his learned opponent. “Well, sir,” said Sir George, at the same time pulling out his snuff-horn and taking a pinch, “I will not even hazard a pinch on it.” The case was called. Sir George, in reply to the claimant’s counsel, in an eloquent speech, addressed the bench; exposed most effectually the means which had been adopted to deprive his client of his birthright; concluded by producing the titles found in the old chest; and the case was at once decided in favour of his client. The decision being announced, Sir George took the young heir’s arm, and, bowing to his learned friend the barrister, remarked, “You see now what a Scotsman has done, and let me tell you that I wish a countryman of mine anything but a London barrister”. Sir George immediately returned to Edinburgh, well paid for his trouble; but he never again, in his favourite walk, encountered the old grey-headed gentleman. The following two stanzas refer to the Mackenzies of Kilcoy and their property:—