wa'," replied Meg, "he keeps nae company at a', neither
in his ain house or ony gate else. He comes down in the morning in a
lang ragged nightgown, like a potato bogle, and down he sits amang his
books; and if they dinna bring him something to eat, the puir demented
body has never the heart to cry for aught, and he has been kend to sit
for ten hours thegither, black fasting, whilk is a' mere papistrie,
though he does it just out o' forget."

"Why, landlady, in that case, your parson is any thing but the ordinary
kind of man you described him--Forget his dinner!--the man must be
mad--he shall dine with me to-day--he shall have such a dinner as I'll
be bound he won't forget in a hurry."

"Ye'll maybe find that easier said than dune," said Mrs. Dods; "the
honest man hasna, in a sense, the taste of his mouth--forby, he never
dines out of his ain house--that is, when he dines at a'--A drink of
milk and a bit of bread serves his turn, or maybe a cauld potato.--It's
a heathenish fashion of him, for as good a man as he is, for surely
there is nae Christian man but loves his own bowels."

"Why, that may be," answered Touchwood; "but I have known many who took
so much care of their own bowels, my good dame, as to have none for any
one else.--But come--bustle to the work--get us as good a dinner for two
as you can set out--have it ready at three to an instant--get the old
hock I had sent me from Cockburn--a bottle of the particular Indian
Sherry--and another of your own old claret--fourth bin, you know,
Meg.--And stay, he is a priest, and must have port--have all ready, but
don't bring the wine into the sun, as that silly fool Beck did the other
day.--I can't go down to the larder myself, but let us have no
blunders."

"Nae fear, nae fear," said Meg, with a toss of the head, "I need naebody
to look into my larder but mysell, I trow--but it's an unco order of
wine for twa folk, and ane o' them a minister."

"Why, you foolish person, is there not the woman up the village that has
just brought another fool into the world, and will she not need sack and
caudle, if we leave some of our wine?"

"A gude ale-posset wad set her better," said Meg; "however, if it's your
will, it shall be my pleasure.--But the like of sic a gentleman as
yoursell never entered my doors!"

The traveller was gone before she had completed the sentence; and,
leaving Meg to bustle and maunder at her leisure, away he marched, with
the haste that characteris