"Saul of my pody, put you are wrang there, my friend," answered Robin,
with composure; "it is your fat Englishmen that eat up our Scots cattle,
puir things."

"I wish there was a summat to eat up their drovers," said another; "a
plain Englishman canna make bread within a kenning of them."

"Or an honest servant keep his master's favour but they will come
sliding in between him and the sunshine," said the bailiff.

"If these pe jokes," said Robin Oig, with the same composure, "there is
ower mony jokes upon one man."

"It is no joke, but downright earnest," said the bailiff. "Harkye, Mr.
Robin Ogg, or whatever is your name, it's right we should tell you that
we are all of one opinion, and that is, that you, Mr. Robin Ogg, have
behaved to our friend Mr. Harry Wakefield here, like a raff and a
blackguard."

"Nae doubt, nae doubt," answered Robin, with great composure; "and you
are a set of very pretty judges, for whose prains or pehaviour I wad
not gie a pinch of sneeshing. If Mr. Harry Waakfelt kens where he is
wranged, he kens where he may be righted."

"He speaks truth," said Wakefield, who had listened to what passed,
divided between the offence which he had taken at Robin's late
behaviour, and the revival of his habitual feelings of regard.

He now rose, and went towards Robin, who got up from his seat as he
approached, and held out his hand.

"That's right, Harry--go it--serve him out," resounded on all
sides--"tip him the nailer--show him the mill."

"Hold your peace all of you, and be--," said Wakefield; and then
addressing his comrade, he took him by the extended hand, with something
alike of respect and defiance. "Robin," he said, "thou hast used me ill
enough this day; but if you mean, like a frank fellow, to shake hands,
and take a tussle for love on the sod, why I'll forgie thee, man, and we
shall be better friends than ever."

"And would it not pe petter to pe cood friends without more of the
matter?" said Robin; "we will be much petter friendships with our panes
hale than proken."

Harry Wakefield dropped the hand of his friend, or rather threw it from
him.

"I did not think I had been keeping company for three years with a
coward."

"Coward pelongs to none of my name," said Robin, whose eyes began to
kindle, but keeping the command of his temper. "It was no coward's legs
or hands, Harry Waakfelt, that drew you out of the fords of Frew,
when you was drifting ower the plack rock, and every