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 HEART OF MID-LOTHIAN. 555
if it diminished its power, had improved in softness. Archibald, though a
follower of the court, and a pococurante by profession, was confused, if not
affected; the dairy-maid blubbered; and Jeanie felt the tears rise spontaneously to her eyes. Even the nurse, accustomed to all modes in which the
spirit can pass, seemed considerably moved.
The patient was evidently growing weaker, as was intimated by an apparent difficulty of breathing, which seized her from time to time, and by the
utterance of low listless moans, intimating that nature was succumbing in
the last conflict. But the spirit of melody, which must originally have so
strongly possessed this unfortunate young woman, seemed, at every interval
of ease, to triumph over her pain and weakness. And it was remarkable,
that there could always be traced in her songs something appropriate,
though perhaps only obliquely or collaterally so, to her present situation.
Her next seemed the fragment of some old ballad:
" Cauld is my bed, Loid Archibald, "And weep ye not, my maidens free,
And sad my sleep of sorrow; -Though de'ath your mistress borrow;
fBut thine sail be as sad and cauld,' For he for whom I die to-day,
My fause true love! to-morrow. Shall die for me to-morrow."
Again she changed the tune to one wilder, -less monotous, and less regular. But of the words, only a fragment or two could be collected by those
who listened to this singular scene:
" Proud MLaisie is in the wood, "' Who makes the bridal bed,
Walking so early; Birdie, say truly l'Sweet Robin sits on' the bush,'The grey-headed sexton,
Singing so rarely. That delves tile grave duly.'
"' Tell me, thou bonny bird,
When shall T marry me?' "The glow-worm o'er grave and stone'When six braw gentlemen Shall light thee steady;
Kirkward shall carry ye.' The owl from the steeple sing,
*a * *' Welcome, proud lady.'"
Her voice died away with the last notes, and she fell into a slumber, from
which the experienced attendant assured them, that she never would awake
at all, or only in the death agony.
The nurse's prophecy proved true. The poor maniac parted with existence, without again uttering a sound of any kind. But our travellers did
not witness this catastrophe. They left the hospital as soon as Jeanie had
satisfied herself that no elucidation of her sister's misfortunes was to be
hoped from the dying person.*
* In taking leave of the poor iraniac, the author may here observe, that the first conception of the character, though afterwards greatly altered, was taken from that of a person calling herself, and called by others,
Feckless Fannie, (weak or feeble Fannie,) who always travelled with a small flock of sheep. the following
account, furnished by the perseverilng kindness of Mr. Train, contains probably all that can now be known
of her history, though many, anlong whom is the author, may remember having heard of Feckless Fannie, in
ile days of their youth.
" "My leisure hours," savs Mr. Train, " for some time past have been mostly spent in searching for particulars
relating to the nlaniac called Feckless Fannie, who travelled over all Scotland and England, between the
years 1767 and 1775, and whose history is altogether so like a romance, that I have been at all possible pains
to collect every particular that can be found relative to her in Galloway, or in Ayrshire.
" When Feckless Fannie appeared in Ayrshire, for the first time, in the summer of 1769, she attracted mluch
notice,-from being attended by twelve or thirteen sheep, who seemed all endued with faculties so much
superior to the ordinary race of animals of the same species, as to excite universal astonishment. She had
for each a different natme, to which it answered when called by its mistress, and would likewise obey in the
most surprising manner any comnmand she thought proper to give. When travelling, she always walked inl
front of her flock, and they followed her closely behind. When she lay down at night in the fields, for she
would never enter into a house, they always disputed who should lie next to her, by which means she
was kept warm, while she lay in the midst of them; when she attempted to rise from the ground. an old
ram, whose name was Charlie, always claimed the sale right of assisting her; pushing any that stood in his
way aside, until he arrived right before his mistress; lhe then bowed his head nearly to the ground that she
might lay her hands on his horns, which were very large; he then lifted her gently fronm the ground by
raising Ihis head. If she chanced to leave her flock feeding, as soon as they discovered she was gone, they all
began to hbleat nmost piteously, and would continue to do so till she returned; they would then testify their
joy by rubbing their sides against her petticoat, and frisking about.
" Feckless Fannie was not, like most otheer demented creatures, fond of fine dress; on her head she wore
an old slouched hat, over her shoulders an old plaid, and carried always in her hand a shepherd's crook;
with any of these articles, she invariably declared she would not part for any consideration whatever. When
she was interrogated why she set so much value on things seemingly so insignificant, she would sometimes
relate the history of her misfortune, which was briefly as foellows:
"' I am the only daughter of a wealthy squire in the north of Enegland, but I loved my father's shepherd,
and that has been my ruin; for my father, fearing his family would be disgraced by such an alliaence, in a
passion mortally wounded my lover with a shot from a pistol. I arrived just in timne to receive the last
bless'ng of the dying man, and to close his eyes in death. He bequeathed me his little all, but I only
accepted these sheep, to be rely sole comlpanions through life, and this hat, this plaid, and this crook, all ol
which I will carry until I descend into the grave.'