four years appeared at the door of the
hut--"rin awa, my bonny man, and tell your father a gentleman wants him.
Or, stay,--Jenny, ye'll hae mair sense: rin ye awa and tell him; he's
down at the Four-acres Park.--Winna ye light down and bide a blink, sir?
Or would ye take a mouthfu' o' bread and cheese, or a drink o' ale, till
our gudeman comes. It's gude ale, though I shouldna say sae that brews
it; but ploughmanlads work hard, and maun hae something to keep their
hearts abune by ordinar, sae I aye pit a gude gowpin o' maut to the
browst."

As the stranger declined her courteous offers, Cuddie, the reader's old
acquaintance, made his appearance in person. His countenance still
presented the same mixture of apparent dulness with occasional sparkles,
which indicated the craft so often found in the clouted shoe. He looked
on the rider as on one whom he never had before seen, and, like his
daughter and wife, opened the conversation with the regular query,
"What's your wull wi' me, sir?"

"I have a curiosity to ask some questions about this country," said the
traveller, "and I was directed to you as an intelligent man who can
answer them."

"Nae doubt, sir," said Cuddie, after a moment's hesitation. "But I would
first like to ken what sort of questions they are. I hae had sae mony
questions speered at me in my day, and in sic queer ways, that if ye kend
a', ye wadna wonder at my jalousing a' thing about them. My mother gar 'd
me learn the Single Carritch, whilk was a great vex; then I behoved to
learn about my godfathers and godmothers to please the auld leddy; and
whiles I jumbled them thegether and pleased nane o' them; and when I cam
to man's yestate, cam another kind o' questioning in fashion that I liked
waur than Effectual Calling; and the 'did promise and vow' of the tape
were yokit to the end o' the tother. Sae ye see, sir, I aye like to hear
questions asked befor I answer them."

"You have nothing to apprehend from mine, my good friend; they only
relate to the state of the country."

"Country?" replied Cuddie; "ou, the country's weel eneugh, an it werena
that dour deevil, Claver'se (they ca' him Dundee now), that's stirring
about yet in the Highlands, they say, wi' a' the Donalds and Duncans and
Dugalds, that ever wore bottomless breeks, driving about wi' him, to set
things asteer again, now we hae gotten them a' reasonably weel settled.
But Mackay will pit him down, there's little doubt o' that; he'll gie him