astle. The good knight, who was getting ready for a hawking party,
heard the intimation with pretty much the same feelings that the modern
representative of a burgh hears of the menaced visitation of a party of
his worthy electors, at a time rather unseasonable for their reception.
That is, he internally devoted the intruders to Mahound and Termagaunt,
and outwardly gave orders to receive them with all decorum and civility;
commanded the sewers to bring hot venison steaks and cold baked meats
into the knightly hall with all despatch, and the butler to broach his
casks, and do his duty; for if the Fair City of Perth sometimes filled
his cellar, her citizens were always equally ready to assist at emptying
his flagons.

The good burghers were reverently marshalled into the hall, where the
knight, who was in a riding habit, and booted up to the middle of
his thighs, received them with a mixture of courtesy and patronising
condescension; wishing them all the while at the bottom of the Tay, on
account of the interruption their arrival gave to his proposed amusement
of the morning. He met them in the midst of the hall, with bare head and
bonnet in hand, and some such salutation as the following:

"Ha, my Master Eldest Bailie, and you, worthy Simon Glover, fathers of
the Fair City, and you, my learned pottingar, and you, stout smith, and
my slashing bonnet maker too, who cracks more skulls than he covers, how
come I to have the pleasure of seeing so many friends so early? I was
thinking to see my hawks fly, and your company will make the sport more
pleasant--(Aside, I trust in Our Lady they may break their necks!)--that
is, always, unless the city have any commands to lay on me. Butler
Gilbert, despatch, thou knave. But I hope you have no more grave errand
than to try if the malvoisie holds its flavour?"

The city delegates answered to their provost's civilities by
inclinations and congees, more or less characteristic, of which the
pottingar's bow was the lowest and the smith's the least ceremonious.
Probably he knew his own value as a fighting man upon occasion. To the
general compliment the elder bailie replied.

"Sir Patrick Charteris, and our noble Lord Provost," said Craigdallie,
gravely, "had our errand been to enjoy the hospitality with which we
have been often regaled here, our manners would have taught us to tarry
till your lordship had invited us, as on other occasions. And as to
hawking, we have had enough on't fo