and iron stanchions on the lower windows, probably to
repel any roving band of gipsies, or resist a predatory visit from
the Caterans of the neighbouring Highlands. Stables and other offices
occupied another side of the square. The former were low vaults, with
narrow slits instead of windows, resembling, as Edward's groom observed,
'rather a prison for murderers and larceners, and such like as are
tried at 'sizes, than a place for any Christian cattle.' Above these
dungeon-looking stables were granaries, called girnels, and other
offices, to which there was access by outside stairs of heavy masonry.
Two battlemented walls, one of which faced the avenue, and the other
divided the court from the garden, completed the enclosure.

Nor was the court without its ornaments. In one corner was a tun-bellied
pigeon-house, of great size and rotundity, resembling in figure and
proportion the curious edifice called Arthur's Oven, which would have
turned the brains of all the antiquaries in England, had not the
worthy proprietor pulled it down for the sake of mending a neighbouring
dam-dyke. This dovecot, or COLUMBARIUM, as the owner called it, was no
small resource to a Scottish laird of that period, whose scanty rents
were eked out by the contributions levied upon the farms by these light
foragers, and the conscriptions exacted from the latter for the benefit
of the table.

Another corner of the court displayed a fountain, where a huge bear,
carved in stone, predominated over a large stone basin, into which he
disgorged the water. This work of art was the wonder of the country ten
miles round. It must not be forgotten, that all sorts of bears, small
and large, demi or in full proportion, were carved over the windows,
upon the ends of the gables, terminated the spouts, and supported the
turrets, with the ancient family motto 'BEWAR THE BAR,' cut under each
hyperborean form. The court was spacious, well paved, and perfectly
clean, there being probably another entrance behind the stables for
removing the litter. Everything around appeared solitary, and would have
been silent, but for the continued plashing of the fountain; and the
whole scene still maintained the monastic illusion which the fancy of
Waverley had conjured up.--And here we beg permission to close a chapter
of still life. [There is no particular mansion described under the
name of Tully-Veolan; but the peculiarities of the description occur
in various old Scottish seats