The Waverley novels, by Sir Walter Scott, complete in 12 vol., printed from the latest English ed., embracing the author's last corrections, prefaces & notes.

162 WAVERLEY NOVELS.
"We maun get it back to the loon some gait or other; ye had better take
it yoursell, I think wi' peep o' light, up to Ringan Aikwood's. I wadna for
a hundred pounds it was fund in our hands."
Steenie undertook to do as he was directed.
" A bonny night ye hae made o't, Mr. Steenie," said Jenny Rintherout,
who, impatient of remaining so long unnoticed, now presented herself to
the young fisherman -" A bonny night ye hae made o't, tramping about
wi' gaberlunzies, and getting yoursell hunted wi' worricows, when ye suld
be sleeping in your bed like your father, honest man."
This attack called forth a suitable response of rustic raillery from the
young fisherman. An attack was now commenced upon the car-cakes and
smoked fish, and sustained with great perseverance by assistance of a bicker
or two of twopenny ale and a bottle of gin. The mendicant then retired to
the straw of an out-house adjoining, — the children had one by one crept
into their nests, -the old grandmother was deposited in her flock-bed, -
Steenie, notwithstanding his preceding fatigue, had the gallantry to accompany Miss Rintherout to her own mansion, and at what hour he returned
the story saith not,-and the matron of the family, having laid the gathering coal upon the fire, and put things in some sort of order, retired to rest
the last of the family.
GToster t~te /m6rttA-IUtt4+
-- Many great ones
Would part with half their states, to have the plan
And credit to beg in the first style.BEGGAR'S BUSH.
OLD Edie was stirring with the lark, and his first inquiry was after Steenie
and the pocket-book. The young fisherman had been under the necessity
of attending his father before daybreak, to avail themselves of the tide, but
Ihe had promised that, immediately on his return, the pocket-book, with all
its contents, carefully wrapped up in a piece of sail-cloth, should be delivered by him to Ringan Aikwood, for Dousterswivel, the owner.
The matron had prepared the morning meal for the family, and, shouldering her basket of fish, tramped sturdily away towards Fairport. The
children were idling round the door, for the day was fair and sun-shiney.
The ancient grandame, again seated on her wicker-chair by the fire, had
resumed her eternal spindle, wholly unmoved by the yelling and screaming
of the children, and the scolding of the mother, which had preceded the
dispersion of the family. Edie had arranged his various bags, and was
bound for the renewal of his wandering life, but first advanced with due
courtesy to take his leave of the ancient crone.
" Gude day to ye, cummer, and mony ane o' them. I will be back about
the fore-end o' har'st, and I trust to find ye baith haill and fere."
" Pray that ye may find me in my quiet grave," said the old woman, in
a hollow and sepulchral voice, but without the agitation of a single feature.
"Ye're auld, cummer, and sae am I mysell; but we maun abide His will
— we'll no be forgotten in His good time."
" Nor our deeds neither," said the crone: "what's dune in the body maun
be answered in the spirit."
" I wot that's true; and I may weel tak the tale hame to mysell, that hae
led a misruled and roving life. But ye were aye a canny wife. We're a'
frail - but ye canna hae sae muckle to bow ye down."