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.

THE BLACK DWARF.
PRELIMINARY.
Hast any philosophy in thee, Shepherd?
As You LIKE IT.
IT was a fine April morning (excepting that it had snowed hard the night
before, and the ground remained covered with a dazzling mantle of six
inches in depth) when two horsemen rode up to the Wallace Inn. The first
was a strong, tall, powerful man, in a grey riding-coat, having a hat covered
with wax-cloth, a huge silver-mounted horse-whip, boots, and dreadnought
overalls. Ie was mounted on a large strong brown mare, rough -in coat,
but well in condition, with a saddle of the yeomanry cut, and a double-bitted
military bridle. The man who accompanied him was: apparently his servant; he rode a shaggy little grey pony, had a blue bonnet on his head, and
a large check napkin folded about his neck, wore a pair of long blue worsted
hose instead of boots, had his gloveless hands much stained with tar, and
observed an air of deference and respect towards his companion, but without
any of those indications of precedence and punctilio which are preserved
between the gentry and their domestics. On the contrary, the two travellers entered the court-yard abreast, and the concluding sentence of the conversation which had been carrying on betwixt them was a joint ejaculation,
" Lord guide us, an this weather last, what will come o' the lambs!" The
hint was sufficient for my Landlord, who, advancing to take the horse of the
principal person, and holding him by the reins as he dismounted, while his
ostler rendered the same service to the attendant, welcomed the stranger to
Gandercleuch, and, in the same breath, inquired, "What news from the
south hielands?"
" News?" said the farmer, " bad eneugh news, I think; —an we can carry
through the-yowes, it will be a' we can do; we maun e'en leave the lambs
to the Black Dwarf's care."
"Ay, ay," subjoined the old shepherd, (for such he was,) shaking his
head, "he'll be unco busy amang the morts this season."
"The Black Dwarf!" said my learned friend and patron,* Mr. Jedediah
Cleishbotham, " and what sort of a personage mnay he be?"
" Hout awa' man," answered the farmer, " ye'll hae heard o' Canny Elshie
the Black Dwarf, or I am muckle mistaen -A' the warld tells tales about
him, but it's but daft nonsense after a'- I dinna believe a word o't frae
beginning to end."
* We have, in this and other instances, printed in italics some few words which the worthy editor, Mr.
Jedediah Cleishbot.larn seems to have interpolated upon the text of his deceased friend, Mr. Pattieson. We
must observe, once for all, that such liberties seem only to have been taken by the learned gentleman where
his own character and conduct are concerned; and surely he must be the best judge of the style in which
his own character and conduct should be treated of.
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