ut strong in the faith, there is no
saying what may come to pass for their good. One might as well hold up
their brazen face, and pretend not to believe any thing--neither the
Witch of Endor raising up Samuel; nor Cornel Gardener's vision; nor
Johnny Wilkes and the De'il; nor Peden's prophecies.

Nanse and me aye made what they call an anniversary of our wedding-day,
which happened to be the fifth of November, the very same as that on
which the Gunpowder Plot chances to be occasionally held--Sundays
excepted. According to custom, this being the fourth year, we collected
a good few friends to a tea-drinking; and had our cracks and a glass or
two of toddy. Thomas Burlings, if I mind, was there, and his wife; and
Deacon Paunch, he was a bachelor; and likewise James Batter; and David
Sawdust and his wife, and their four bairns, good customers; and a wheen
more, that, without telling a lie, I could not venture to particularize
at this moment, though maybe I may mind them when I am not wanting--but
no matter.--Well, as I was saying, after they all went away, and Nanse
and me, after locking the door, slipped to our bed, I had one of the most
miraculous dreams recorded in the history of man; more especially if we
take into consideration where, when, and to whom it happened.

At first I thought I was sitting by the fireside, where the cat and the
kittling were playing with a mouse they had catched in the meal-kit,
cracking with James Batter on check-reels for yarn, and the cleverest way
of winding pirns, when, all at once, I thought myself transplanted back
to the auld world--forgetting the tailoring trade; broad and narrow
cloth; worsted boots and Kilmarnock cowls; pleasant Dalkeith; our late
yearly ploy; my kith and kindred; the friends of the people; the Duke's
parks; and so on--and found myself walking beneath beautiful trees, from
the branches of which hung apples, and oranges, and cocky-nuts, and figs,
and raisins, and plumdamases, and corry-danders, and more than the tongue
of man can tell, while all the birds and beasts seemed as tame as our
bantings; in fact, just as they were in the days of Adam and Eve--Bengal
tigers passing by on this hand, and Russian bears on that, rowing
themselves on the grass, out of fun; while peacocks, and magpies, and
parrots, and cockytoos, and yorlins, and grey-linties, and all birds of
sweet voice and fair feather, sported among the woods, as if they had
nothing to do but sit and sing i