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 L 25 with interest, and punish the vile gaugers.” He actually went as far as Edinburgh at one time to wait on the Queen, but was persuaded to go no further. A few years ago he sent the Queen a rare silver coin, for which he received an official letter acknowledging receipt, but there was no contents for the hermit, as he sanguinary expected—disappointment again for poor Raeburn.

The hermit, although very fond of money, was not altogether uncharitable; he sometimes gave the wayfaring beggar a handful of meal, but money he would not part with. One day on the public road he came up with a poor woman who knew him, and just as he came close to her, he saw a bawbee on the ground and lifted “Hech, Tammas,” said the poor wife, “ye ken ye have thousands: its no worth your while to keep that bawbee, ye’ll better gie it to me.” “Gie it to you; Chirsty, aye, ye’re a queer ane, fin, bawbees for yoursel’, my lass,” and so saying, Thomas slipped the coinage into his pocket.

In his youth the hermit was a handsome and a very powerful man, measuring 6 feet 2 inches in height, with a fine broad chest and proportionate limbs; in his old age he became bent, as most men do; yet notwithstanding, the ravages of time, his outlandish beard, and his uncouth raiment, he still manifested the the ruins of a noble frame and visage. The love of money was his great besetting sin; it contributed however, to render him abstemious both in regard to meat and drink, although in regard to his food it was carried to such a height as to injure his health occasionally. It was seldom indeed, he tasted anything stronger than water, although report gave him the credit of having become intoxicated one night in returning from Ayr races. A party of pretended friends inveigled him into a road side tavern, and in all probability they had hocussed his drink, as he fell into a deep sleep, and upon awakening found that, like mighty Samson of old, he was “shorn of his locks.” This was cruel and mean in