mprovements, which I thought the town was susceptible of, both in the
causey of the streets and the reparation of the kirk, should be set about
under my direction; but the way in which I handled the same, and brought
them to a satisfactory completeness and perfection, will supply abundant
matter for two chapters.

CHAPTER XV--ON THE IMPROVEMENT OF THE STREETS

In ancient times, Gudetown had been fortified with ports and gates at the
end of the streets; and in troublesome occasions, the country people, as
the traditions relate, were in the practice of driving in their families
and cattle for shelter. This gave occasion to that great width in our
streets, and those of other royal burghs, which is so remarkable; the
same being so built to give room and stance for the cattle. But in those
days the streets were not paved at the sides, but only in the middle, or,
as it was called, the crown of the causey; which was raised and backed
upward, to let the rain-water run off into the gutters. In progress of
time, however, as the land and kingdom gradually settled down into an
orderly state, the farmers and country folk having no cause to drive in
their herds and flocks, as in the primitive ages of a rampageous
antiquity, the proprietors of houses in the town, at their own cost,
began, one after another, to pave the spaces of ground between their
steadings and the crown of the causey; the which spaces were called
lones, and the lones being considered as private property, the
corporation had only regard to the middle portion of the street--that
which I have said was named the crown of the causey.

The effect of this separation of interests in a common good began to
manifest itself, when the pavement of the crown of the causey, by
neglect, became rough and dangerous to loaded carts and gentlemen's
carriages passing through the town; in so much that, for some time prior
to my second provostry, the carts and carriages made no hesitation of
going over the lones, instead of keeping the highway in the middle of the
street; at which many of the burgesses made loud and just complaints.

One dark night, the very first Sunday after my restoration to the
provostry, there was like to have happened a very sore thing by an old
woman, one Peggy Waife, who had been out with her gown-tail over her head
for a choppin of strong ale. As she was coming home, with her ale in a
greybeard in her hand, a chaise in full bir came upon her and kn