t, rather than hear what might do him gude a'
the days of his life, frae you or me, Mr. Hammorgaw, or ony ither sober
and sponsible person. Reason, sir, is what he canna endure--he's a' for
your vanities and volubilities; and he ance tell'd me (puir blinded
creature!) that the Psalms of David were excellent poetry! as if the holy
Psalmist thought o' rattling rhymes in a blether, like his ain silly
clinkum-clankum things that he ca's verse. Gude help him!--twa lines o'
Davie Lindsay would ding a' he ever clerkit."

While listening to this perverted account of my temper and studies, you
will not be surprised if I meditated for Mr. Fairservice the unpleasant
surprise of a broken pate on the first decent opportunity. His friend
only intimated his attention by "Ay, ay!" and "Is't e'en sae?" and
suchlike expressions of interest, at the proper breaks in Mr.
Fairservice's harangue, until at length, in answer to some observation of
greater length, the import of which I only collected from my trusty
guide's reply, honest Andrew answered, "Tell him a bit o'my mind, quoth
ye? Wha wad be fule then but Andrew? He's a red-wad deevil, man--He's
like Giles Heathertap's auld boar;--ye need but shake a clout at him to
make him turn and gore. Bide wi' him, say ye?--Troth, I kenna what for I
bide wi' him mysell. But the lad's no a bad lad after a'; and he needs
some carefu' body to look after him. He hasna the right grip o' his
hand--the gowd slips through't like water, man; and it's no that ill a
thing to be near him when his purse is in his hand, and it's seldom out
o't. And then he's come o' guid kith and kin--My heart warms to the poor
thoughtless callant, Mr. Hammorgaw--and then the penny fee"--

In the latter part of this instructive communication, Mr. Fairservice
lowered his voice to a tone better beseeming the conversation in a place
of public resort on a Sabbath evening, and his companion and he were soon
beyond my hearing. My feelings of hasty resentment soon subsided, under
the conviction that, as Andrew himself might have said, "A harkener
always hears a bad tale of himself," and that whoever should happen to
overhear their character discussed in their own servants'-hall, must
prepare to undergo the scalpel of some such anatomist as Mr. Fairservice.
The incident was so far useful, as, including the feelings to which it
gave rise, it sped away a part of the time which hung so heavily on my
hand.

Evening had now closed, and the