king for mere joy like a spaniel puppy.

"The order of march had all been settled, when Scott's daughter
Anne broke from the line, screaming with laughter, and exclaimed,
'Papa, papa, I knew you could never think of going without your
pet!' Scott looked round, and I rather think there was a blush as
well as a smile upon his face, when he perceived a little black pig
frisking about his pony, evidently a self-elected addition to the
party of the day. He tried to look stern, and cracked his whip at
the creature, but was in a moment obliged to join in the general
cheers. Poor piggy soon found a strap round its neck, and was
dragged into the background; Scott, watching the retreat, repeated
with mock pathos, the first verse of an old pastoral song--

What will I do gin my hoggie die?
My joy, my pride, my hoggie!
My only beast, I had na mae,
And wow, but I was vogie!

--the cheers were redoubled--and the squadron moved on."

Let us supplement this with one more picture, from the same hand,
showing Scott in a little more intimate light. The passage was written
in 1821, after Lockhart had married Scott's eldest daughter, and gone
to spend the summer at Chiefswood, a cottage on the Abbotsford estate:

"We were near enough Abbotsford to partake as often as we liked of
its brilliant and constantly varying society; yet could do so
without being exposed to the worry and exhaustion of spirit which
the daily reception of new-comers entailed upon all the family,
except Scott himself. But in truth, even he was not always proof
against the annoyances connected with such a style of open
house-keeping.... When sore beset at home in this way, he would
every now and then discover that he had some very particular
business to attend to on an outlying part of his estate, and
craving the indulgence of his guests overnight, appear at the cabin
in the glen before its inhabitants were astir in the morning. The
clatter of Sibyl Grey's hoofs, the yelping of Mustard and Spice,
and his own joyous shout of _reveillee_ under our windows, were the
signal that he had burst his toils, and meant for that day to 'take
his ease in his inn.' On descending, he was found to be seated with
all his dogs and ours about him, under a spreading ash that
overshadowed half the bank between the co