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TALES OF MY LANDLORD.

Dame Gourlay, "a' glistenin' wi' goud and jewels, that they are mounting on the white horse behind that hare-brained callant in scarlet, wi' the lang sword at his side?"

"But that's the bride!" said her companion, her cold heart touched with some sense of compassion; "that's the very bride hersell! Eh, whow! sae young, sae braw, and sae bonnie—and is her time sae short?"

"I tell ye her winding sheet," said the sybil, "is up as high as her throat already, believe it wha list. Her sand has but few grains to run out, and nae wonder—they've been weel shaken. The leaves are withering fast on the trees, but she'll never see the Martinmas wind gar them dance in swirls like the fairy rings."

"Ye waited on her for a quarter," said the paralytic woman, "and got twa red pieces, or I am far beguiled."

"Ay, ay," answered Ailsie, with a bitter grin; "and Sir William Ashton promised