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.

CHRONICLES OF THE CANONGATE. O57
necessity has no law; and then, goodwife, he was not more culpable than
Mr. Treddles, whom you are so sorry for."
"I wish I could think sae, sir, for his mother's sake; but Mr. Treddles.
was in trade, and though he had no preceese right to do so, yet there was
some warrant for a man being expensive that imagined he was making a
mint of money. But this unhappy lad devoured his patrimony, when he
kenned that he was living like a ratten in a Dunlap cheese, and diminishing
his means at a' hands-I canna bide to think on't." With this she broke
out into a snatch of a ballad; but little of mirth was there either in the
tone or the expression:"For he did spend, and make an end
Of gear that his forefather's wan;
Of land and ware he niade hin bare,
So speak nae mair of the auld gudoman."
"Come, dame," said I, " it is a long lane that has no turning. I will not
keep from you that I have heard something of this poor fellow, Chrystal
Croftangry. He has sown his wild oats, as they say, and has settled into a
steady respectable man."
"And wha tell'd ye that tidings?" said she, looking sharply at me.
" Not perhaps the best judge in the world of his character, for it was
himself, dame."
"And if he tell'd you truth, it was a virtue he did not aye use to practise," said Christie.
" The devil!" said I, considerably nettled; " all the world held him to be
a man of honour."
" Ay, ay, he would hae shot ony body wi' his pistols and his guns, that
had evened him to be a liar. But if he promised to pay an honest tradesman the next term day, did he keep his word then? And if he promised
a puir silly lass to make gude her shame, did he speak truth then? And
what is that, but being a liar, and a black-hearted deceitful liar to boot?"
My indignation was rising, but I strove to suppress it; indeed, I should
only have afforded my tormentor a triumph by an angry reply. I partly
suspected she began to recognise me; yet she testified so little emotion, that
I could not think my suspicion well-founded. I went on, therefore, to say,
in a tone as indifferent as I could command, " Well, goodwife, I see you will
believe no good of this Chrystal of yours, till he comes back and buys a
good farm on the estate, and makes you his housekeeper."
The old woman dropped her thread, and folded her hands, as she looked up
to heaven with a face of apprehension. "The Lord," she exclaimed, "forbid
The Lord in his mercy forbid! Oh, sir, if you really know this unlucky
man, persuade him to settle where folk ken the good that you say he has
come to, and dinna ken the evil of his former days. He used to bp proud
enough -Oh, dinna let him come here, even for his own sake.-He used
ance to have some pride."
Here she once more drew the wheel close to her, and began to pull at the
flax with both hands-" Dinna let him come here, to be looked down upon
by ony that may be left of his auld reiving companions, and to see the
decent folk that he looked over his nose at look over their noses at him,
baith at kirk and market. Dinna let him come to his ain country to be
made a tale about when ony neighbour points him out to another, and tells
what he is, and what he was, and how he wrecked a dainty estate, and
brought harlots to the door-cheek of his father's house, till he made it nae
residence for his mother; and how it had been foretauld by a servant of his
ain house, that he was a ne'er-do-weel, and a child of perdition, and how
her words were made good, and -"
"Stop there, goodwife, if you please," said I; "you have said as much
as I can well remember, and more than it may be safe to repeat. I can use
a great deal of freedom with the gentleman we speak of; but I think were
any other person to carry him half of your message, I would scarce ensure