ained,
on his way to Brechin, where he had gone to visit some relations."

We felt interested in Johnny, by this brief sketch of his mysterious
story; and, not a little curious to know where on earth he could
possibly have been all the time, we readily closed with our friend's
proposal to run round to the berth for which we saw the vessel was
making, and to await his coming on shore.

"But how, in all the world," said our friend, communing with himself
during this interval, "has he got into a vessel from Rotterdam? He could
not have been there, surely? It's impossible."

As to this we could say nothing, not knowing at the time anything at all
of Johnny's adventures; but of these we were not now long kept in
ignorance. On his stepping on shore, our friend seized him joyously by
the hand, and expressed great satisfaction at seeing him again. This
satisfaction appeared to be mutual; for Johnny returned his friend's
grasp with great cordiality and warmth. The first salutations over--

"But where on all the earth, Mr. Armstrong," said our friend, "have you
been for these three months back?"

Johnny smiled, and said it was "ower lang a tale" to tell where we then
were; but, as he meant to stop either in Leith or Edinburgh for the
night, it being now pretty far in the evening, if my friend and I would
adjourn with him to some respectable house, where he could get a night's
quarters, he would give us the whole story of his adventures. With this
proposal we readily closed; and on Johnny asking if we could point out
such a house as he alluded to, we at once named the New Ship Tavern.
Thither we accordingly repaired; and, in less than two hours thereafter,
we were put, good reader, in possession, by Johnny himself, of that part
of his story to which the preceding pages have been devoted. What
follows--for Johnny's misfortunes had not yet terminated--we learned
afterwards from another quarter.

On the next day--we mean the day succeeding the evening we spent with
Johnny--the latter proceeded to Edinburgh, with the view of taking
coach there for Carlisle. But, in making his way up Catherine Street,
and when precisely opposite No. 12, Calton Street--we like to be
particular--Johnny found himself suddenly accosted by one of his oldest
and most intimate friends. This was a Mr. James Stevenson, a
fellow-townsman and fellow-shopkeeper of his own.

The astonishment of the latter, on meeting with Johnny, and, indeed, of
finding him