y, had it not been
for his fearsome oaths, which made our very hair stand on end, and were
enough to open the stone-wall, we would have both sate from that time to
this.

We got the whole story of the Willie-goat, out and out; it seeming to be,
with Cursecowl, a prime matter of diversion, especially that part of it
relating to the head, by which he had won a crown from Deacon Paunch, who
wagered that the wife and me would eat it, without ever finding out our
mistake. But, aha, lad!

The long and the short of the matter was this. The Willie-goat, had, for
eighteen year, belonged to a dragoon marching regiment, and, in its
better days, had seen a power of service abroad; till, being now old and
infirm, it had fallen off one of the baggage-carts, and got its leg
broken on the road to Piershill, where it was sold to Cursecowl, by a
corporal, for half-a-crown and a dram. The four quarters he had managed
to sell for mutton, like lightning--this one buying a jigget, that one a
back-ribs, and so on. However, he had to weather a gey brisk gale in
making his point good. One woman remarked, that it had an unearthly,
rank smell; to which he said, "No, no--ye do not ken your blessings,
friend,--that's the smell of venison, for the beast was brought up along
with the deers in the Duke's parks." And to another wife, that, after
smell-smelling at it, thought it was a wee humphed, he replied, "Faith
that's all the thanks folk gets for letting their sheep crop heather
among Cheviot Hills"; and such like lies. But as for the head, that had
been the doure business. Six times had it been sold and away, and six
times had it been brought back again. One bairn said, that her "mother
didna like a sheep's head with horns like these, and wanted it changed
for another one." A second one said, that, "it had tup's een, and her
father liked wether mutton." A third customer found mortal fault with
the colours, which, she said, "were not canny, or in the course of
nature." What the fourth one said, and the fifth one took leave to
observe, I have stupidly forgotten, though, I am sure, I heard both; but
I mind one remarked, quite off-hand, as she sought back her money, that
"unless sheep could do without beards, like their neighbours, she would
keep the pot boiling with a piece beef, in the meantime." After all
this, would any mortal man believe it, Deacon Paunch, the greasy Daniel
Lambert that he is, had taken the wager, as I before took o