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.

THIE ANTIQUARY. 29
Yes, my dear friend, from this stance it is probable —nay, it is nearly
certain, that Julius Agricola beheld what our Beaumont has so admirably
described i - From this very Praetoriuml"A voice from behind interrupted his ecstatic description —" Proetorian
here, Preetorian there, I mind the bigging o't."
Both at once turned round, Lovel with surprise, and Oldbuck with mingled surprise and indignation, at so uncivil an interruption. An auditor
had stolen upon them, unseen and unheard, amid the energy of the Antiquary's enthusiastic declamation, and the attentive civility of Lovel. I-le
had the exterior appearance of a mendicant. A slouched hat of huge
dimensions; a long white beard which mingled with his grizzled hair; an
aged but strongly marked and expressive countenance, hardened, by climate
and exposure, to a right brickdust complexion; a long blue gown, with a
pewter badge on the right arm; two or three wallets, or bags, slung across
his shoulder, for holding the different kinds of meal, when he received his
charity in kind from those who were but a degree richer than himself; -
all these marked at once a beggar by profession, and one of that privileged
class which are called in Scotland the King's Bedes-men, or, vulgarly, Bluegowns.
"What is that you say, Edie?" said Olclbuck, hoping, perhaps, that his
ears had betrayed their duty -" what were you speaking about?"
" About this bit bourock, your honour," answered {he undaunted Edie;
"I mind the bigging o't."
" The devil you do! Why, you old fool, it was here before you were
born, and will be after you are hanged, man i"
" Hanged or drowned, here or awa, dead or alive, I mind the bigging o't."
"You - you - you," said the Antiquary, stammering between confusion
and anger, "you strolling old vagabond, what the devil do you know about
it?"
" Ou, I ken this about it, Monkbarns- and what profit have I for telling
ye a lie? — I just ken this about it, that about twenty years syne, I, and a
wheen hallenshakers like mzysell, and the mason-lads that built the lang
dyke that gaes down the loaning, and twa or three herds maybe, just set to
wark, and built this bit thing here that ye ca' the - the - Prc3torian, and
a' just for a bield at auld Aiken Drum's bridal, and a bit blithe gae-down
wi' had in't, some sair rainy weather. Mair by token, Monkbarns, if ye
howk up the bourock, as ye seem to have begun, ye'll find, if ye hae not
fund it already, a stane that ane o' the mason-callants cut a ladle on to
have a bourd at the bridegroom, and he put four letters on't, that's A.D.L.L.
-Aiken Drum's Lang Ladle —for Aiken was ane o' the kale-suppers o'
Fife."
" This," thought Lovel to himself, " is a famous counterpart to the story
of Keip on this syde." He then ventured to steal a glance at our Antiquary,
but quickly withdrew it in sheer compassion. For, gentle reader, if thou
hast ever beheld the visage of a damsel of sixteen, whose romance of true
love has been blown up by an untimely discovery, or of a child of ten years,
whose castle of cards has been blown down by a malicious companion, I
can safely aver to you, that Jonathan Oldbuck of Monkbarns looked neither
more wise nor less disconcerted.
" There is some mistake about this," he said, abruptly turning away from
the mendicant.
"Deil a bit on my side o' the wa'," answered the sturdy beggar; "I
never deal in mistakes, they aye bring mischances. — Now, Monkbarns,
that young gentleman, that's wi' your honour, thinks little of a carle like
me; and yet, I'll wager I'll tell him whar he was yestreen. at the gloamin,
only he maybe wadna like to hae't spoken o' in company."
Lovel's soul rushed to his cheeks, with the vivid blush of two-and-twenty.
"Never mind the old rogue," said Mr. Oldbuck; " don't suppose I think
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