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 did not discomfit the boars' heads and the Etterick antiquity, there was a strong line of reserve, commanded and with impetuous fury led on by Mrs. Sourkrout herself, consisting of her uncle the bishop. The laird of Etterick ought to remember, that the lady who had honoured him with her hand was great niece to a spiritual lord. Was any of his boars' heads a right reverend father in God? could any of them shew a mitre on their carriage?—The laird, finding his opponents more voluble than himself, at last desisted from contesting the point; unless now and then when he returned from a conference with the parson over Maggy Wood's whisky-punch, or from a meeting of justices held to promote good morals and especially sobriety among the poor, or from a Monday's dinner after the administration of the sacrament.