y go at this rate, where will all our legacy
soon be? I have no goo of the pesents; so we are on the look-out for a
landed estate, being a shure thing.

Captain Saber is still sneking after Rachel, and if she were awee
perfited in her accomplugments, it's no saying what might happen, for
he's a fine lad, but she's o'er young to be the heed of a family.
Howsomever, the Lord's will maun be done, and if there is to be a match,
she'll no have to fight for gentility with a straitent circumstance.

As for Andrew, I wish he was weel settlt, and we have our hopes that he's
beginning to draw up with Miss Argent, who will have, no doobt, a great
fortune, and is a treasure of a creeture in herself, being just as simple
as a lamb; but, to be sure, she has had every advantage of edication,
being brought up in a most fashonible boarding-school.

I hope you have got the box I sent by the smak, and that you like the
patron of the goon. So no more at present, but remains, dear Miss Mally,
your sinsaire friend,

JANET PRINGLE.

"The box," said Miss Mally, "that Mrs. Pringle speaks about came last
night. It contains a very handsome present to me and to Miss Bell Tod.
The gift to me is from Mrs. P. herself, and Miss Bell's from Rachel; but
that ettercap, Becky Glibbans, is flying through the town like a spunky,
mislikening the one and misca'ing the other: everybody, however, kens
that it's only spite that gars her speak. It's a great pity that she
cou'dna be brought to a sense of religion like her mother, who, in her
younger days, they say, wasna to seek at a clashing."

Mr. Snodgrass expressed his surprise at this account of the faults of
that exemplary lady's youth; but he thought of her holy anxiety to sift
into the circumstances of Betty, the elder's servant, becoming in one day
Mrs. Craig, and the same afternoon sending for the midwife, and he
prudently made no other comment; for the characters of all preachers were
in her hands, and he had the good fortune to stand high in her favour, as
a young man of great promise. In order, therefore, to avoid any
discussion respecting moral merits, he read the following letter from
Andrew Pringle:--

LETTER XXIII

_Andrew Pringle_, _Esq._, _to the Reverend Charles Snodgrass_

MY DEAR FRIEND--London undoubtedly affords the best and the worst
specimens of the British character; but there is a certain townis