harsh voice.
"What are ye for the day, your honour?" she said, or rather screamed,
to Oldbuck; "caller haddocks and whitings--a bannock-fluke and a
cock-padle."

"How much for the bannock-fluke and cock-padle?" demanded the Antiquary.

"Four white shillings and saxpence," answered the Naiad.

"Four devils and six of their imps!" retorted the Antiquary; "do you
think I am mad, Maggie?"

"And div ye think," rejoined the virago, setting her arms akimbo, "that
my man and my sons are to gae to the sea in weather like yestreen and
the day--sic a sea as it's yet outby--and get naething for their fish, and
be misca'd into the bargain, Monkbarns? It's no fish ye're buying--it's
men's lives."

"Well, Maggie, I'll bid you fair--I'll bid you a shilling for the fluke
and the cock-padle, or sixpence separately--and if all your fish are as
well paid, I think your man, as you call him, and your sons, will make a
good voyage."

"Deil gin their boat were knockit against the Bell-Rock rather! it wad
be better, and the bonnier voyage o' the twa. A shilling for thae twa
bonnie fish! Od, that's ane indeed!"

"Well, well, you old beldam, carry your fish up to Monkbarns, and see
what my sister will give you for them."

"Na, na, Monkbarns, deil a fit--I'll rather deal wi' yoursell; for though
you're near enough, yet Miss Grizel has an unco close grip--I'll gie ye
them" (in a softened tone) "for three-and-saxpence."

"Eighteen-pence, or nothing!"

"Eighteen-pence!!!" (in a loud tone of astonishment, which declined into
a sort of rueful whine, when the dealer turned as if to walk away)--"Yell
no be for the fish then?"--(then louder, as she saw him moving off)--"I'll
gie ye them--and--and--and a half-a-dozen o' partans to make the sauce, for
three shillings and a dram."

"Half-a-crown then, Maggie, and a dram."

"Aweel, your honour maun hae't your ain gate, nae doubt; but a dram's
worth siller now--the distilleries is no working."

"And I hope they'll never work again in my time," said Oldbuck.

"Ay, ay--it's easy for your honour, and the like o' you gentle-folks to
say sae, that hae stouth and routh, and fire and fending and meat and
claith, and sit dry and canny by the fireside--but an ye wanted fire,
and meat, and dry claes, and were deeing o' cauld, and had a sair heart,
whilk is warst ava', wi' just tippence in your pouch, wadna ye be glad
to buy a dram wi't, to be eilding and claes, and a supper and heart's
ease into the ba