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.

294 WAVERLEY NOVELS.
Helen was the daughter of a small farmer in a place called Dalwhairn, in
the parish of Irongray; where, after the death of her father, she continued,
with the unassuming piety of a Scottish peasant, to support her mother by
her own unremitted labour and privations; a case so common, that even
yet, I am proud to say, few of my countrywomen would shrink from the
duty.
Helen Walker was held among her equals pensy, that is, proud or conceifed; but the facts brought to prove this accusation seem only to evince a
strength of character superior to those around her. Thus it was remarked,
that when it thundered, she went with her work and her Bible to the front
of the cottage, alleging that the Almighty could smite in the city as well as
in the field.
Mr. M'Diarmid mentions more particularly the misfortune of her sister,
which he supposes to have taken place previous to 1736. Helen Walker,
declining every proposal of saving her relation's life at the expense of truth,
borrowed a sum of money sufficient for her journey, walked the whole distance to London barefoot, and made her way to John Duke of Argyle. She
was heard to say, that, by the Almighty's strength, she had been enabled
to meet the Duke at the most critical moment, which, if lost, would have
caused the inevitable forfeiture of her sister's life.
Isabella, or Tibby Walker, saved from the fate which impended over her,
was married by the person who had wronged her, (named Waugh,) and
lived happily for great part of a century, uniformly acknowledging the
extraordinary affection to which she owed her preservation.
Helen Walker died about the end of the year 1791, and her remains are
interred in the church-yard of her native parish of Irongray, in a romantic
cemetery on the banks of the Cairn. That a character so distinguished for
her undaunted love of virtue, lived and died in poverty, if not want, serves
only to show us how insignificant, in the sight of Heaven, are our principal
objects of ambition upon earth.
TO THE BEST OF PATRONS,
A PLEASED AND INDULGENT READER,
-; JEDEDIAH CLEISHBOTHAM
WISHES HEALTH, AND INCREASE, AND CONTENTMENT.
COURTEOUS READER,
IF ingratitude comprehendeth every vice, surely so foul a stain worst of
all beseemeth him whose life has been devoted to instructing youth in
virtue and in humane letters. Therefore have I chosen, in this prolegomenon, to unload my burden of thanks at thy feet, for the favour with
which thou hast kindly entertained the Tales of my Landlord. Certes, if
thou hast chuckled over their facetious and festivous descriptions, or hadst
thy mind filled with pleasure at the strange and pleasant turns of fortune
which they record, verily, I have also simpered when I beheld a second
story with attics, that has arisen on the basis of my small domicile at Gandercleuch, the walls having been aforehand pronounced by Deacon Barrow