_carrow_,
than of the Scottish beggar. But the late Reverend Doctor Robert Douglas,
minister of Galashiels, assured the author, that the last time he saw
Andrew Gemmells, he was engaged in a game at brag with a gentleman of
fortune, distinction, and birth. To preserve the due gradations of rank,
the party was made at an open window of the chateau, the laird sitting
on his chair in the inside, the beggar on a stool in the yard; and they
played on the window-sill. The stake was a considerable parcel of
silver. The author expressing some surprise, Dr. Douglas observed, that
the laird was no doubt a humorist or original; but that many decent
persons in those times would, like him, have thought there was nothing
extraordinary in passing an hour, either in card-playing or
conversation, with Andrew Gemmells.

"This singular mendicant had generally, or was supposed to have, as much
money about his person, as would have been thought the value of his life
among modern footpads. On one occasion, a country gentleman, generally
esteemed a very narrow man, happening to meet Andrew, expressed great
regret that he had no silver in his pocket, or he would have given him
sixpence:--'I can give you change for a note laird,' replied Andrew.

"Like most who have arisen to the head of their profession, the modern
degradation which mendicity has undergone was often the subject of
Andrew's lamentations. As a trade, he said, it was forty pounds a year
worse since he had first practised it. On another occasion he observed,
begging was in modern times scarcely the profession of a gentleman, and
that if he had twenty sons, he would not easily be induced to breed one
of them up in his own line. When or where this _laudator temporis
acti_ closed his wanderings, the author never heard with certainty;
but most probably, as Burns says--

"----he died a cadger-powny's death
At some dike side."

"The author may add another picture of the same kind as Edie Ochiltree
and Andrew Gemmells; considering these illustrations as a sort of
gallery, open to the reception of any thing which may elucidate former
manners, or amuse the reader.

"The author's contemporaries at the university of Edinburgh will
probably remember the thin wasted form of a venerable old Bedesman, who
stood by the Potter-row Port, now demolished; and, without speaking a
syllable, gently inclined his head, and offered his hat, but with the
least possible Degree of urgency, t