vial of brandy which had long passed muster among the
relics of the cloister for the tears of the blessed saint. The venerable
guardian of St. Bridget probably expected the interference of her
patroness--she of Holyrood might, perhaps, hope that David Ruzzio's
spectre would arise to prevent the profanation. But Mrs. Policy stood
not long in the silence of horror. She uplifted her voice, and screamed
as loudly as Queen Mary herself when the dreadful deed was in the act of
perpetration--

"Harrow, now out, and walawa!" she cried.

I happened to be taking my morning walk in the adjoining gallery,
pondering in my mind why the kings of Scotland, who hung around me,
should be each and every one painted with a nose like the knocker of
a door, when lo! the walls once more re-echoed with such shrieks as
formerly were as often heard in the Scottish palaces as were sounds of
revelry and music. Somewhat surprised at such an alarm in a place so
solitary, I hastened to the spot, and found the well meaning traveller
scrubbing the floor like a housemaid, while Mrs. Policy, dragging him
by the skirts of the coat, in vain endeavoured to divert him from his
sacrilegious purpose. It cost me some trouble to explain to the zealous
purifier of silk stockings, embroidered waistcoats, broadcloth, and deal
planks that there were such things in the world as stains which ought
to remain indelible, on account of the associations with which they are
connected. Our good friend viewed everything of the kind only as
the means of displaying the virtue of his vaunted commodity. He
comprehended, however, that he would not be permitted to proceed
to exemplify its powers on the present occasion, as two or three
inhabitants appeared, who, like me, threatened to maintain the
housekeeper's side of the question. He therefore took his leave,
muttering that he had always heard the Scots were a nasty people, but
had no idea they carried it so far as to choose to have the floors of
their palaces blood boltered, like Banquo's ghost, when to remove them
would have cost but a hundred drops of the Infallible Detergent Elixir,
prepared and sold by Messrs. Scrub and Rub, in five shilling and ten
shilling bottles, each bottle being marked with the initials of the
inventor, to counterfeit which would be to incur the pains of forgery.

Freed from the odious presence of this lover of cleanliness, my good
friend Mrs. Policy was profuse in her expressions of thanks; and yet