“He is an innocent, sir,” said the butler; “there is one such in almost every town in the country, but ours is brought far ben. He used to work a day’s turn weel enough; but he helped Miss Rose when she was flemit with the Laird of Killancureit’s new English bull, and since that time we ca’ him Davie Do-little; indeed we might ca’ him Davie Do-naething, for since he got that gay clothing, to please his honour and my young mistress (great folks will have their fancies), he has done naething but dance up and down about the _toun_, without doing a single turn, unless trimming the laird’s fishing-wand or busking his flies, or may be catching a dish of trouts at an orra time. But here comes Miss Rose, who, I take burden upon me for her, will be especial glad to see one of the house of Waverley at her father’s mansion of Tully-Veolan.” But Rose Bradwardine deserves better of her unworthy historian than to be introduced at the end of a chapter. In the mean while it may be noticed, that Waverley learned two things from this colloquy: that in Scotland a single house was called a “town”, and a natural fool an “innocent”.[8] CHAPTER X. ROSE BRADWARDINE AND HER FATHER Miss Bradwardine was but seventeen; yet, at the last races of the county town of——, upon her health being proposed among a round of beauties, the Laird of Bumperquaigh, permanent toast-master and croupier of the Bautherwhillery Club, not only said “More” to the pledge in a pint bumper of Bourdeaux, but, ere pouring forth the libation, denominated the divinity to whom it was dedicated, “the Rose of Tully-Veolan”; upon which festive occasion three cheers were given by all the sitting members of that respectable society, whose throats the wine had left capable of such exertion. Nay, I am well assured, that the sleeping partners of the company snorted applause, and that although strong bumpers and weak brains had consigned two or three to the floor, yet even these, fallen as they were from their high estate, and weltering—I will carry the parody no farther—uttered divers inarticulate sounds, intimating their assent to the motion.