some independent men
i' the world besides mysel. Every husband's no _henpecked_. Every man
that has a wife doesna 'glory' in being 'pecked by _such_ a hen.'"

"There's William M'Gillavry," said the sly wife, in a soft and
unassuming tone; "_he_ is independent o' his wife."

"Do ye mean, Peggy, that I should get him to sign the bill?"

"Na," replied she, "I dinna say that; I merely meant that he was an
independent man like you, wha, if _ye asked_ him to do it, wouldna
refuse on such a ground as the want o' consent o' his wife. Oh, what
will my puir faither do? I canna live if he is in sorrow and
perplexity." (Weeping.) "I saw William M'Gillavry yesterday. He asked
kindly for ye. Ye haena visited him for a lang time. Twa husbands sae
like each other might meet oftener, and twa wives, wha agree in the ae
grand point o' submittin to the authority o' their lords and masters,
might, wi' advantage, be greater gossips than we hae been."

"Might I try William, think ye, Margaret?" said he.

"My puir advice canna be o' muckle avail to ye," said she; "ye ken
best yersel; but I think, _if_ he were asked, he wadna refuse the sma'
favour."

"I see you wish me to try him, Peggy," said he; "and I _will_ try
him."

Away hastened the deacon to William M'Gillavry. He found him at home;
and, as a deacon, was well received. Having opened the subject to him,
he found that M'Gillavry was not inclined to become cautioner, unless
he got put into his hands some security, that, in the event of his
being called upon to pay the money, he might, in the end, be safe.
This proposition was not expected by the deacon, who did not possess
any portable security that he could give. He endeavoured to get his
friend to be satisfied with his own obligation, to keep him scatheless
against all the effects of his obligation; but the other would not
agree to this, and, pretending to be called away by some one, left the
room for a little, promising to be back instantly. In the meantime,
the deacon heard a conflict of words in an adjoining apartment, in the
course of which several half-sentences met his ear. The wordy war was
between William M'Gillavry and his wife. Her notes were shrill and
high, and repeatedly she said--"Get my brither John's bill frae
him"--"that will do"--"he, puir fallow! canna pay't, at ony rate, and
I want to save him frae the hands o' the law." The deacon did not
understand this broken conversation; but he could easily perceive tha