their friends. So far as I recollect, however, it was
unmingled either with feelings of democracy or aristocracy, or, indeed,
with malice or ill-will of any kind towards the opposite party. In fact,
it was only a rough mode of play. Such contests were, however, maintained
with great vigour with stones and sticks and fisticuffs, when one party
dared to charge, and the other stood their ground. Of course mischief
sometimes happened; boys are said to have been killed at these "bickers,"
as they were called, and serious accidents certainly took place, as many
contemporaries can bear witness.

The Author's father residing in George Square, in the southern side of
Edinburgh, the boys belonging to that family, with others in the square,
were arranged into a sort of company, to which a lady of distinction
presented a handsome set of colours. Now this company, or regiment, as a
matter of course, was engaged in weekly warfare with the boys inhabiting
the Crosscauseway, Bristo Street, the Potter Row,--in short, the
neighbouring suburbs. These last were chiefly of the lower rank, but
hardy loons, who threw stones to a hair's-breadth, and were very rugged
antagonists at close quarters. The skirmish sometimes lasted for a whole
evening, until one party or the other was victorious, when, if ours were
successful, we drove the enemy to their quarters, and were usually chased
back by the reinforcement of bigger lads who came to their assistance.
If, on the contrary, we were pursued, as was often the case, into the
precincts of our square, we were in our turn supported by our elder
brothers, domestic servants, and similar auxiliaries.

It followed, from our frequent opposition to each other, that though not
knowing the names of our enemies, we were yet well acquainted with their
appearance, and had nicknames for the most remarkable of them. One very
active and spirited boy might be considered as the principal leader in
the cohort of the suburbs. He was, I suppose, thirteen or fourteen years
old, finely made, tall, blue-eyed, with long fair hair, the very picture
of a youthful Goth. This lad was always first in the charge, and last in
the retreat,--the Achilles, at once, and Ajax of the Crosscauseway. He
was too formidable to us not to have a cognomen, and, like that of a
knight of old, it was taken from the most remarkable part of his dress,
being a pair of old green livery breeches, which was the principal part
of his clothing; for, like