t Indies, and on the facilities which Glasgow possessed of making
up sortable cargoes for that market. Mr. Jarvie answered some objection
which Owen made on the difficulty of sorting a cargo for America, without
buying from England, with vehemence and volubility.

"Na, na, sir, we stand on our ain bottom--we pickle in our ain
pock-neuk--We hae our Stirling serges, Musselburgh stuffs, Aberdeen hose,
Edinburgh shalloons, and the like, for our woollen or worsted goods--and
we hae linens of a' kinds better and cheaper than you hae in Lunnon
itsell--and we can buy your north o' England wares, as Manchester wares,
Sheffield wares, and Newcastle earthenware, as cheap as you can at
Liverpool--And we are making a fair spell at cottons and muslins--Na, na!
let every herring hing by its ain head, and every sheep by its ain shank,
and ye'll find, sir, us Glasgow folk no sae far ahint but what we may
follow.--This is but poor entertainment for you, Mr. Osbaldistone"
(observing that I had been for some time silent); "but ye ken cadgers
maun aye be speaking about cart-saddles."

I apologised, alleging the painful circumstances of my own situation, and
the singular adventures of the morning, as the causes of my abstraction
and absence of mind. In this manner I gained what I sought--an
opportunity of telling my story distinctly and without interruption. I
only omitted mentioning the wound I had received, which I did not think
worthy of notice. Mr. Jarvie listened with great attention and apparent
interest, twinkling his little grey eyes, taking snuff, and only
interrupting me by brief interjections. When I came to the account of the
rencounter, at which Owen folded his hands and cast up his eyes to
Heaven, the very image of woeful surprise, Mr. Jarvie broke in upon the
narration with "Wrang now--clean wrang--to draw a sword on your kinsman
is inhibited by the laws o' God and man; and to draw a sword on the
streets of a royal burgh is punishable by fine and imprisonment--and the
College-yards are nae better privileged--they should be a place of peace
and quietness, I trow. The College didna get gude L600 a year out o'
bishops' rents (sorrow fa' the brood o' bishops and their rents too!),
nor yet a lease o' the archbishopric o' Glasgow the sell o't, that they
suld let folk tuilzie in their yards, or the wild callants bicker there
wi' snaw-ba's as they whiles do, that when Mattie and I gae through, we
are fain to make a baik and a bow, or