oadhead could
certainly read. Could Ezzelin? I do not know. But if he could not, the
Hugonic belief in the efficacy of reading is not strongly supported. If
he could, it is definitely damaged.

[105] _Vide_ what is said below on _Quatre-Vingt-Treize_.

[106] After the lapse of more than half a century some readers may have
forgotten, and more may never have heard, the anecdote connected with
this. It was rashly and somewhat foolishly pointed out to the
poet-romancer himself that the air of "Bonny Dundee" was the very
reverse of melancholy, and that he must have mistaken the name. His
reply was the most categoric declaration possible of his general
attitude, in such cases, "Et moi, je l'appelle 'Bonny Dundee.'" _Victor
locutus est: causa finita est_ (he liked tags of not recondite Latin
himself). And the leading case governs those of the bug-pipe and the
(later) wapentake and _justicier-quorum_, and all the other wondrous
things of which but a few can be mentioned here.

[107] I do not know whether any one has ever attempted to estimate his
actual debt to Scott. There are better classics of inquiry, but in the
class many worse subjects.

[108] In the opening scene she is something worse. If her writing
"Gilliatt" in the snow had been a sort of rustic challenge of the "malo
me petit, et fugit ad salices" kind, there might have been something
(not much) to say for her. But she did not know Gilliatt; she did not
want to know him; and the proceeding was either mere silly childishness,
or else one of those pieces of bad taste of which her great creator was
unluckily by no means incapable.

[109] I use this adjective in no contumelious sense, and certainly not
because I have lived in Guernsey and only visited Jersey. To the
impartial denizen of either, the rivalry of the two is as amusing as is
that of Edinburgh and Glasgow, of Liverpool and Manchester, or of
Bradford and Leeds. But, at any rate at the time of which I am speaking,
Jersey was much more haunted by outsiders (in several senses of that
word) than Guernsey. Residents--whether for the purposes unblushingly
avowed by that sometime favourite of the stage, Mr. Eccles, or for the
reasons less horrifying to the United Kingdom Alliance--found themselves
more at home in "Caesarea" than in "Sarnia," and the "five-pounder," as
the summer tripper was despiteously called by natives, liked to go as
far as he could for his money, and found St. Helier's "livelier" than
St.