with contempt. But the first grasp of the stranger, as he seized
his arms above the elbows, instead of throwing them round his waist (as
was, and is the unscientific practice of the Borders), informed Robin
that he had no common customer to deal with. Robin, as a wrestler, in a
great measure trusted to mere strength and tripping. He knew nothing of
turning an antagonist from his centre of gravity by a well-timed and
well-directed touch. He therefore threw his arms around the back of his
opponent (so far as the grasp which the other had got of them would
permit), with the intention of giving him a "Hawick hug," but he found
he could not join his hands together so as to effect his purpose, and
his strength could not accomplish it. Ignorant of his antagonist's mode
of attack, he had allowed him an advantage over him; and when he
endeavoured to gain it by tripping his heels, the other suddenly changed
his feet, favoured Robin with a "Devonian kick," and suddenly dashing
his bended knee against his person, Robin lost his footing, and fell
upon his back, with the stranger above him.

The spectators shouted; and Andrew, mounting his pony, exclaimed aloud--

"Weel dune, stranger--I'm as glad as though I had gotten a gowden coin."

Now, it is but justice to Andrew to say that he had repeatedly defeated
Meikle Robin, both at wresting, cudgel-playing, and every athletic
exercise; but I shall give the reader an account of his having done so
on one occasion in his own words, as it is necessary for the forwarding
of our narrative.

Andrew went to Lamberton with his fish on the following day, and again
he found a profitable market; and some words had again passed between
him and Meikle Robin; but, as he was returning home, he overtook the
stranger by whom Robin had been defeated.

"Losh, man!" said Andrew, pulling up his pony, "is this ye? I canna tell
ye hoo glad I am to see ye, for I've dune naething but thocht o' ye ever
since yesterday, when I saw ye tak the brag oot o' Meikle Robin, just as
easily as I would bend a willy-wand. Now, I hope, sir, although ye are a
stranger, ye no think ill o' my familiarity?"

"Think ill, comrade," said the other, "why should I do so?"

"Why, I watna," said Andrew, "but there seems to be sae mony kind o'
butterflies getting about the court now, wi' their frills and their
gold-laced jackets, from what I can judge o' their appearance for some
days past on the Moor, that I wasna sure but it migh