Next day, my pack was exposed at the principal well; and, to my no small delight, I saw Macpherson himself, with upwards of a score of advocates, all sporting the tartan. The thing took like wildfire; piece after piece, (always the last!) I produced and sold; and had I been possessed of double, or even ten times the quantity, I verily believe I might have sold it, at any price. The very shepherd lads, from Queensberry and Errickstane, were down upon me, coaxing and urging me to let them have a waistcoat-piece, at any price. But the more fixed merchants of the place saw my advantage; and, by dismissing an express to Glasgow, in two or three days had their windows filled with the Macpherson. The fever, however, was over. Macpherson himself, waistcoat and all, had set out on his celebrated Highland search; the advocates had returned to their briefs; and the Moffat haberdashers had reason to regret their hasty proceedings in this matter. I had, however, realized a round sum of profit--not less than forty pounds--on this hit; and was content to limit my sale to the more ordinary commodities of my pack, for the rest of the time which I sojourned here. From Moffat, I took the road, across the hills, to Durrisdeer. At this time, the famous M'Gill was minister of this parish. He was a man celebrated, in his day, for fervency in preaching; for marrying a Miss Goodfellow, (who had paid for his education, and was on the wrong side--I don't say of fifty, but at least of seventeen;) and for his extensive powers and experience in _haggis_-eating. The "Kirkton" of Durrisdeer--a small cluster of houses around the church--has been celebrated by Burns, in his "Tam o' Shanter"-- "And at the Lord's house, even on Sunday, Thou drank wi' _Kirkton_ Jean till Monday."