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.

TEE FORTUNES OF NIGIEL. 61.
studies to maist advantage; and it may be we will have him come to Court,
and study with Steenie, and Babie Charles. And, now we think on' it,
away - away, George- for the bairns will be coming hame presently, and
we would not as yet they kend of this matter we have been treating anent.
Propera pedemn, Geordie. Clap your mule between your hough, and godden with you."
Thus ended the conference betwixt the gentle King Jamie and his benevolent jeweller and goldsmith.
Oh, I do know him-'tis the mouldy lemon
Which our court wits will wet their lips withal,
When they would sauce their honeyed conversation
With somewhat sharper flavour. - Marry, sir,
That virtue's well-nigh left him —all the juice
That was so sharp and poignant, is squeezed out;
While the poor rind, although as sour as ever,
Nlust season soon the draff we give our grunters,
For two-legg'd things are weary on't.
TuE CHAtIMBERLAIN-A COMEDY.
THE good company invited by the hospitable citizen assembled at his
house in Lombard Street at the " hollow and hungry hour" of noon, to partake of that meal which divides the day; being about the time when modern
persons of fashion, turning themselves upon their pillow, begin to think,
not without a great many doubts and much hesitation, that they will by and
by commence it. Thither came the young Nigel, arrayed plainly, but in a
dress, nevertheless, more suitable to his age and quality than he had formerly worn, accompanied by his servant Moniplies, whose outside also was
considerably improved. His solemn and stern features glared forth from
under a blue velvet bonnet, fantastically placed sideways on his head - he
had a sound and tough coat of English blue broad-cloth, which, unlike his
former vestment, would have stood the tug of all the apprentices in Fleet
Street. The buckler and broadsword he wore as the arms of his condition,
and a neat silver badge, bearing his lord's arms, announced that he was an
appendage of aristocracy. He sat down in the good citizen's bLstery, not a
little pleased to find his attendance upon the table in the hall was likely to
be rewarded with his share of a meal such as he had seldom partaken of.
Mr. David Ramsay, that profound and ingenious mechanic, was safely
conducted to Lombard Street, according to promise, well washed, brushed,
and cleaned, from the soot of the furnace and the forge. His daughter,
who came with him, was about twenty years old, very pretty, very demure,
yet with lively black eyes, that ever and anon contradicted the expression
of sobriety, to which silence, reserve, a plain velvet hood, and a cambric
ruff, had condemned Mistress Marget, as the daughter of a quiet citizen.
There were also two citizens and merchants of London, men ample in
cloak, and many-linked golden chain, well to pass in the world, and experienced in their craft of merchandise, but who require no particular description. There was an elderly clergyman also, in his gown and cassock, a
decent venerable man, partaking in his manners of the plainness of the
citizens amongst whom he had his cure.
These may be dismissed with brief notice; but not so Sir Mungo MIalagrowther, of Girnigo Castle, who claims a little more attention, as an original character of the time in which he flourished.
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