A circumstance not known at the time of George's death made this singular professional dream the more remarkable and unique in all its parts. It was a terrible storm on the night of the dream, as has been already mentioned, and during the time of the hurricane, a London smack went down off Wearmouth about three in the morning. Among the sufferers were the Hon. Mr R---- of L----y, and his son! George could not know aught of this at break of day, for it was not known in Scotland till the day of his interment; and as little knew he of the deaths of the two young lawyers, who both died of the small-pox the evening before. CHAPTER VI. THE SOUTERS OF SELKIRK. I have heard an amusing story of a young man whose name happened to be the same as that of the hero of the preceding chapter--George Dobson. He was a shoemaker, a very honest man, who lived at the foot of an old street, called the Back Row, in the town of Selkirk. He was upwards of thirty, unmarried, had an industrious old stepmother, who kept house for him, and of course George was what is called "a bein bachelor," or "a chap that was gayan weel to leeve." He was a cheerful happy fellow, and quite sober, except when on the town-council, when he sometimes took a glass with the magistrates of his native old borough, of whose loyalty, valour, and antiquity, there was no man more proud. Well, one day, as George was sitting in his _shop_, as he called it, (though no man now-a-days would call that a shop in which there was nothing to sell,) sewing away at boots and shoes for his customers, whom he could not half hold in whole leather, so great was the demand over all the country for George Dobson's boots and shoes--he was sitting, I say, plying away, and singing with great glee,-- "Up wi' the Souters o' Selkirk, And down wi' the Earl o' Hume, And up wi' a' the brave billies That sew the single-soled shoon! And up wi' the yellow, the yellow; The yellow and green hae doon weel; Then up wi' the lads of the Forest, But down wi' the Merse to the deil!" The last words were hardly out of George's mouth, when he heard a great noise enter the Back Row, and among the voices one making loud proclamation, as follows:-- "Ho yes!--Ho yes! Souters ane, Souters a', Souters o' the Back Raw, There's a gentleman a-coming Wha will ca' ye _Souters_ a'." "I wish he durst," said George. "That will be the Earl o' Hume wha's coming. He has had us at ill-will for several generations. Bring my aik staff into the shop, callant, and set it down beside me here--and ye may bring ane to yoursell too.--I say, callant, stop. Bring my grandfather's auld sword wi' ye. I wad like to see the Earl o' Hume, or ony o' his cronies, come and cast up our honest calling and occupation till us!"