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TALES OF MY LANDLORD.

"Well, then, Mistress Alison," said Morton, "I really am sorry to have kept you up waiting till I came in."

"And now, that ye are come in, Mr Henry, what for do ye no tak up your candle and gang to your bed? and mind ye dinna let the candle sweal as ye gang alang the wainscot parlour, and haud a' the house scouring to get out the grease again."

But, Alison, I really must have something to eat, and a draught of ale, before go to bed."

"Eat?—and ale, Mr Henry?—My certie, ye're ill to serve! Do ye think we have na heard o' your grand popinjay-wark yonder, and how ye bleezed away as muckle pouther as wad hae shot a' the wild-fowl that we'll want atween and Candlemas―and then ganging majoring to the piper's Howff wi' a' the idle loons in the country, and sitting there birling, at your poor uncle's cost nae doubt, wi' a' the scaff and raff o' the water-side, till sun-down, and