"What on?" "Cauld mutton!"

William found him dead and warm, and falling in with the milk-boy at the
head of the street, questioned him, and discovered that he was the
executioner, and had got twopence, he--Toby's every morning crony, who
met him and accompanied him up the street, and licked the outside of his
can--had, with an eye to speed and convenience, and a want of taste, not
to say principle and affection, horrible still to think of, suspended
Toby's animation beyond all hope. William instantly fell upon him,
upsetting his milk and cream, and gave him a thorough licking, to his
own intense relief; and, being late, he got from Pyper, who was a
martinet, the customary palmies, which he bore with something
approaching to pleasure. So died Toby; my father said little, but he
missed and mourned his friend.

There is reason to believe that by one of those curious intertwistings
of existence, the milk-boy was that one of the drowning party who got
the penny of the twopence.

WYLIE.

Our next friend was an exquisite shepherd's dog; fleet, thin-flanked,
dainty, and handsome as a small grayhound, with all the grace of silky
waving black and tan hair. We got him thus. Being then young and keen
botanists, and full of the knowledge and love of Tweedside, having been
on every hill-top from Muckle Mendic to Hundleshope and the Lee Pen, and
having fished every water from Tarth to the Leithen, we discovered early
in spring that young Stewart, author of an excellent book on natural
history, a young man of great promise and early death, had found the
_Buxbaumia aphylla_, a beautiful and odd-looking moss, west of Newbie
heights, in the very month we were that moment in. We resolved to start
next day. We walked to Peebles, and then up Haystoun Glen to the cottage
of Adam Cairns, the aged shepherd of the Newbie hirsel, of whom we knew,
and who knew of us from his daughter, Nancy Cairns, a servant with Uncle
Aitken of Callands. We found our way up the burn with difficulty, as the
evening was getting dark; and on getting near the cottage heard them at
worship. We got in, and made ourselves known, and got a famous tea, and
such cream and oat cake!--old Adam looking on us as "clean dementit" to
come out for "a bit moss," which, however, he knew, and with some pride
said he would take us in the morning to the place. As we were going into
a box bed for the night, two young men came in, and said they were "gaun
to burn the wat