rrupt. I attempted a tone of conciliation towards
Thorncliff on several occasions; but he rejected my advances with a
manner about as gracious as that of a growling mastiff, when the animal
shuns and resents a stranger's attempts to caress him. I therefore
abandoned him to his ill-humour, and gave myself no further trouble about
the matter.

Such was the footing upon which I stood with the family at Osbaldistone
Hall; but I ought to mention another of its inmates with whom I
occasionally held some discourse. This was Andrew Fairservice, the
gardener who (since he had discovered that I was a Protestant) rarely
suffered me to pass him without proffering his Scotch mull for a social
pinch. There were several advantages attending this courtesy. In the
first place, it was made at no expense, for I never took snuff; and
secondly, it afforded an excellent apology to Andrew (who was not
particularly fond of hard labour) for laying aside his spade for several
minutes. But, above all, these brief interviews gave Andrew an
opportunity of venting the news he had collected, or the satirical
remarks which his shrewd northern humour suggested.

"I am saying, sir," he said to me one evening, with a face obviously
charged with intelligence, "I hae been down at the Trinlay-knowe."

"Well, Andrew, and I suppose you heard some news at the alehouse?"

"Na, sir; I never gang to the yillhouse--that is unless ony neighbour was
to gie me a pint, or the like o' that; but to gang there on ane's ain
coat-tail, is a waste o' precious time and hard-won siller.--But I was
doun at the Trinlay-knowe, as I was saying, about a wee bit business o'
my ain wi' Mattie Simpson, that wants a forpit or twa o' peers that will
never be missed in the Ha'-house--and when we were at the thrangest o'
our bargain, wha suld come in but Pate Macready the travelling merchant?"

"Pedlar, I suppose you mean?"

"E'en as your honour likes to ca' him; but it's a creditable calling and
a gainfu', and has been lang in use wi' our folk. Pate's a far-awa cousin
o' mine, and we were blythe to meet wi' ane anither."

"And you went and had a jug of ale together, I suppose, Andrew?--For
Heaven's sake, cut short your story."

"Bide a wee--bide a wee; you southrons are aye in sic a hurry, and
this is something concerns yourself, an ye wad tak patience to
hear't--Yill?--deil a drap o' yill did Pate offer me; but Mattie gae us
baith a drap skimmed milk, and ane o' her thick ait j