story has got abroad, that the Scotch Napiers got their surname from one Donald, whose prowess was so great in a certain battle, that the king said he had “na peer,” that is, no equal. His friends,—so the tale goes,—from henceforth styled him Donald Na-pier. The Scotch Napiers are, as Mr. Lower shows, of the house of Lennox, and owed their cognomen to the office I have described, held by their ancestors in the royal household. The Ewer carried the ewer of water in front of the Napier; and as they had no forks in those days, and used their left hand in a manner which would be now considered the reverse of polite, no wonder that between every course the _napier_ and _ewer_ would be busy indeed. Even the carver had no fork, and had to use his fingers very freely with the joints. In the “Boke of Kervynge,” an old manual of etiquette for young squires, there is a strict order to this effect:—“Sett never on fyshe, flesche, beest, nor fowle, more than two fyngers and a thumbe”! The young squire had early to learn this accomplishment; and therefore Chaucer, describing his Squire, made a point of saying in his favour,— “Courteous he was, lowly and servisable, And carf before his fader at the table.” The Sewer brought in the viands; we still use the root in such compounds as _en-sue_ and _pur-sue_. A _sewe_ was any cooked dish or course of meat. Hence Chaucer, describing the rich feasts of Cambuscan, says, time would fail him to tell— “Of their strange sewes.” The Queen’s household still boasts, I believe, its six Gentlemen Sewers. The “Page,” of course, was a familiar spectacle, for he was here, there, and everywhere, at the beck and call of his lord. No wonder, therefore, he has so many representatives in our Directory. It is said that an elderly bachelor, bearing this name, became deeply attached to a young lady. Being bashful by nature, and unacquainted with the arts of courtship, he hung about the damsel for a long time, seeking vainly for courage and opportunity to declare the state of his mind. The golden chance came at last. At a party one night the fair lady dropped her glove. He rushed to pick it up, and presenting it to her, said,— “If from that glove you take the letter ‘G,’ Then glove is love, and that I give to thee.” She at once responded,— “If you from Page should take the letter ‘P,’ Then Page is age,—and that won’t do for me.” I believe he was taken ill and went home.