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 then coming hame and crying for ale, as if ye were maister and mair?"

Extremely vexed, yet anxious, on account of his guest, to procure refreshments if possible, Morton suppressed his resentment, and good-humouredly assured Mrs Wilson that he was really both hungry and. thirsty; "and as for the shooting at the popinjay, I have heard you say you have been there yourself, Mrs Wilson—I wish you had come to look at us."

"Ah, Maister Henry," said the old dame, "I wish ye binna beginning to learn the way of blawing in a woman's lug, wi' a' your whilly-wha's—a weel, sae ye dinna practise them but on auld wives like me, the less matter. But tak heed o' the young queans, lad.—Popinjay—ye think yoursel a bra' fellow enow; and troth!" (surveying him with the candle,) "there's nac fault to find wi' the outside, if the inside be conforming. But I mind, when I was a gilpey of a lassock, seeing the Duke,