"

"The Fifteen," as the full Bench of the old Court of Session of Scotland
was popularly called, were deliberating on a bill of suspension and
interdict relative to certain caravans with wild beasts on the then
vacant ground which formed the beginning of the new communication with
the new Town of Edinburgh spreading westwards and the Lawnmarket--now
known as the Mound. In the course of the proceedings Lord Bannatyne fell
fast asleep. The case was disposed of and the next called, which related
to a right of lien over certain goods. The learned lord who continued
dozing having heard the word "lien" pronounced with an emphatic accent
by Lord Meadowbank, raised the following discussion:

Meadowbank: "I am very clear that there was a lien on this property."

Bannatyne: "Certain; but it ought to be chained, because----"

Balmuto: "My lord, it's no a livin' lion, it's the Latin word for lien"
(leen).

Hermand: "No, sir; the word is French."

Balmuto: "I thought it was Latin, for it's in italics."

* * * * *

[Illustration: HENRY HOME, LORD KAMES.]

Henry Home (Lord Kames) was at once one of the most enlightened and
learned of Scottish judges of the latter half of the eighteenth century,
and one of the most eccentric. His _History of Mankind_ brought him into
correspondence with most of the famous men and women of his day, and yet
it was his delight to walk up the Canongate and High Street with a
half-witted creature who made it his business to collect all the gossip
of the town and retail it to his lordship as he made his way to Court in
the morning. His humour was very sarcastic, and nothing delighted him
more than to observe that it cut home. Leaving the Court one day shortly
before his death he met James Boswell, and accosted him with, "Well,
Boswell, I shall be meeting your old father one of these days, what
shall I say to him how you are getting on now?" Boswell disdained to
reply. After a witness in a capital trial at Perth Circuit concluded his
evidence, Lord Kames said to him, "Sir, I have one question more to ask
you, and remember you are on your oath. You say you are from
Brechin?"--"Yes, my lord."--"When do you return thither?"--"To-morrow,
my lord."--"Do you know Colin Gillies?"--"Yes, my lord; I know him very
well."--"Then tell him that I shall breakfast with him on Tuesday
morning."

Lord Kames used to relate a story of a man who claimed the honour of his
acquaintance o