cribe the sort of bustle, not unmixed with alarm,
produced at the first farmhouse they visited (Willie Elliot's at
Millburnholm), when the honest man was informed of the quality of one
of his guests. When they dismounted, accordingly, he received Mr.
Scott with great ceremony, and insisted upon himself leading his horse
to the stable. Shortreed accompanied Willie, however, and the latter,
after taking a deliberate peep at Scott, "out-by the edge of the
door-cheek," whispered, "Weel, Robin, I say, de'il hae me if I's be a
bit feared for him now; he's just a chield like ourselves, I think."
Half-a-dozen dogs of all degrees had already gathered round "the
advocate," and his way of returning their compliments had set Willie
Elliot at once at his ease.

According to Mr. Shortreed, this goodman of Millburnholm was the great
original of Dandie Dinmont. As he seems to have been the first of
these upland sheep-farmers that Scott ever visited, there can be
little doubt that he sat for some parts of that inimitable
portraiture; and it is certain that the James Davidson, who carried
the name of Dandie to his grave with him, and whose thoroughbred
deathbed scene is told in the Notes to Guy Mannering, {p.178} was
first pointed out to Scott by Mr. Shortreed himself, several years
after the novel had established the man's celebrity all over the
Border; some accidental report about his terriers, and their odd
names, having alone been turned to account in the original composition
of the tale. But I have the best reason to believe that the kind and
manly character of Dandie, the gentle and delicious one of his wife,
and some at least of the most picturesque peculiarities of the
_menage_ at Charlieshope, were filled up from Scott's observation,
years after this period, of a family, with one of whose members he
had, through the best part of his life, a close and affectionate
connection. To those who were familiar with him, I have perhaps
already sufficiently indicated the early home of his dear friend,
William Laidlaw, among "the braes of Yarrow."

They dined at Millburnholm, and after having lingered over Willie
Elliot's punch-bowl, until, in Mr. Shortreed's phrase, they were
"half-glowrin," mounted their steeds again, and proceeded to Dr.
Elliot's at Cleughhead, where ("for," says my Memorandum, "folk were
na very nice in those days") the two travellers slept in one and the
same bed--as, indeed, seems to have been the case with them thr