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.

172 WAVERLEY NOVELS.
rogue- you here on your venture in the tolbooth o' Glasgow?- What d'ye
think's the value o' your head?"
"Umph!-why, fairly weighed, and Dutch weight, it might weigh down
one provost's, four bailies', a town-clerk's, six deacons', besides stentmasters"
" Ah, ye reiving villain!" interrupted Mr. Jarvie. "But tell ower your
sins, and prepare ye, for if I say the word"" True, Bailie," said he who was thus addressed, folding his hands behind him with the utmost nonchalance, " but ye will never say that word."
" And why suld I not, sir?" exclaimed the magistrate-"Why suld I not?
Answer me that-why suld I not?"
" For three sufficient reasons, Bailie Jarvie.-First, for auld langsyne;second, for the sake of the auld wive ayont the fire at Stuckavrallachan, that
made some mixture of our bluids, to my own proper shame be it spoken!
that has a cousin wi' accounts, and yarn winnles, and looms and shuttles,
like a mere mechanical person; —and lastly, Bailie, because if I saw a sign
o' your betraying me, I would plaster that wa' with your harns ere the hand
of man could rescue you!"
" Ye're -a bauld desperate villain, sir," retorted the undaunted Bailie;
" and ye ken that I ken ye to be sae, and that I wadna stand a moment for
my ain risk."
"I ken weel," said the other, " ye hae gentle bluid in your veins, and I
wad be laith to hurt my ain kinsman. But I'll gang out here as free as I
came in, or the very wa's o' Glasgow tolbooth shall tell o't these ten years
to come."
"Weel, weel," said Mr. Jarvie, " bluid's thicker than water; and it liesna
in kith, kin, and ally, to see motes in ilk other's een if other een see them
no. It wad be sair news to the auld wife below the Ben of Stuckavrallachan, that you, ye Hieland limmer, had knockit out my hams, or that I had
kilted you up in a tow. But ye'll own, ye dour deevil, that were it no your
ver!'sell, I wad hae grippit the best man in the Hielands."
" Ye wad hae tried, cousin," answered my guide, "that I wot weel; but
I doubt ye wad hae come aff wi' the short measure; for we gang-there-out
Hielaiid bodies are an unchancy generation when you speak to us o' bondage. We downa bide the coercion of gude. braid-claith about our hinderlans, let a be breeks o' freestone, and garters o' iron."
"Ye'll find' the stane breeks and the airn garters —ay, and the hemp
cravat, for a' that, neighbour," replied the Bailie. " Nae man in a civilized
country ever played the pliskies ye hae done —but e'en pickle in your ain
pock-neuk-I hae gi'en ye warning."
"W Vell, cousin," said the other, "ye'll wear black at my burial."
" Deil a black cloak will be there, Robin, but the corbies and the hoodiecraws, I'se gie ye my hand on that. But whar's the gude thousand pund
Scots that I lent ye, man, and when am I to see it again?"
"Where it is," replied my guide, after the affectation of considering for
a moment, " I cannot justly tell-probably where last year's snaw is."
"And that's on the top of Schehallion, ye Hieland dog," said Mr. Jarvie;
"and I look for payment frae you where ye stand."
"Ay," replied the Highlander, " but I keep neither snaw nor dollars in
my sporran. And as to when you'll see it-why, just when the king enjoys
his ain again, as the auld sang says."
"Warst of a', Robin," retorted the Glaswegian, —" I mean, ye disloyal
traitor-Warst of a'!-Wad ye bring popery in on us, athd arbitrary power,
and a foist and a warming-pan, and the set forms, and the curates, and the
auld enormities o' surplices and cearments? Ye had better stick to your
auld trade o' theft-boot, black-mail, spreaghs, and gillravaging- better
stealing nowte than ruining nations."
" Hout, man-whisht wi' your whiggery," answered the Celt; " we hae