r one morning; since a wild fellow,
who was flying a falcon hard by on the moor, unhorsed and cudgelled our
worthy friend Oliver Bonnet Maker, or Proudfute, as some men call him,
merely because he questioned him, in your honour's name, and the town of
Perth's, who or what he was that took so much upon him."

"And what account gave he of himself?" said the provost. "By St. John! I
will teach him to forestall my sport!"

"So please your lordship," said the bonnet maker, "he did take me at
disadvantage. But I got on horseback again afterwards, and pricked after
him gallantly. He calls himself Richard the Devil."

"How, man! he that the rhymes and romances are made on?" said the
provost. "I thought that smaik's name had been Robert."

"I trow they be different, my lord. I only graced this fellow with the
full title, for indeed he called himself the Devil's Dick, and said he
was a Johnstone, and a follower of the lord of that name. But I put him
back into the bog, and recovered my hawking bag, which he had taken when
I was at disadvantage."

Sir Patrick paused for an instant. "We have heard," said he, "of the
Lord of Johnstone, and of his followers. Little is to be had by meddling
with them. Smith, tell me, did you endure this?"

"Ay, faith did I, Sir Patrick, having command from my betters not to
help."

"Well, if thou satst down with it," said the provost, "I see not why we
should rise up; especially as Master Oliver Proudfute, though taken at
advantage at first, has, as he has told us; recovered his reputation and
that of the burgh. But here comes the wine at length. Fill round to my
good friends and guests till the wine leap over the cup. Prosperity to
St. Johnston, and a merry welcome to you all, my honest friends! And
now sit you to eat a morsel, for the sun is high up, and it must be long
since you thrifty men have broken your fast."

"Before we eat, my Lord Provost," said the bailie, "let us tell you the
pressing cause of our coming, which as yet we have not touched upon."

"Nay, prithee, bailie," said the provost, "put it off till thou hast
eaten. Some complaint against the rascally jackmen and retainers of the
nobles, for playing at football on the streets of the burgh, or some
such goodly matter."

"No, my lord," said Craigdallie, stoutly and firmly. "It is the
jackmen's masters of whom we complain, for playing at football with the
honour of our families, and using as little ceremony with our daughters'