est I might; and then he bade me go in,
for that was my chamber. I did as he bid, but paused after a few steps,
and begged a light to go to bed with.

"Hoot-toot!" said uncle Ebenezer, "there's a fine moon."

"Neither moon nor star, sir, and pit-mirk,"[2] said I. "I canna see the
bed."

"Hoot-toot, hoot-toot!" said he. "Lights in a house is a thing I dinna
agree with. I'm unco feared of fires. Good-night to ye, Davie my man."
And before I had time to add a further protest, he pulled the door to,
and I heard him lock me in from the outside.

I did not know whether to laugh or cry. The room was as cold as a well,
and the bed, when I had found my way to it, as damp as a peat-hag; but
by good fortune I had caught up my bundle and my plaid, and rolling
myself in the latter, I lay down upon the floor under lee of the big
bedstead, and fell speedily asleep.

With the first peep of day I opened my eyes, to find myself in a great
chamber, hung with stamped leather, furnished with fine embroidered
furniture, and lit by three fair windows. Ten years ago, or perhaps
twenty, it must have been as pleasant a room to lie down or to awake in
as a man could wish; but damp, dirt, disuse, and the mice and spiders
had done their worst since then. Many of the window-panes, besides, were
broken; and indeed this was so common a feature in that house, that I
believe my uncle must at some time have stood a siege from his indignant
neighbours--perhaps with Jennet Clouston at their head.

Meanwhile the sun was shining outside; and being very cold in that
miserable room, I knocked and shouted till my gaoler came and let me
out. He carried me to the back of the house, where was a draw-well, and
told me to "wash my face there, if I wanted"; and when that was done, I
made the best of my own way back to the kitchen, where he had lit the
fire and was making the porridge. The table was laid with two bowls and
two horn spoons, but the same single measure of small beer. Perhaps my
eye rested on this particular with some surprise, and perhaps my uncle
observed it; for he spoke up as if in answer to my thought, asking me if
I would like to drink ale--for so he called it.

I told him such was my habit, but not to put himself about.

"Na, na," said he; "I'll deny you nothing in reason."

He fetched another cup from the shelf; and then, to my great surprise,
instead of drawing more beer, he poured an accurate half from one cup to
the other. There was