of
goodness, ever was an eyewitness to a sheep's head, in a Christian land,
with a beard like an unshaven Jew crying 'owl clowes,' with a green bag
over his left shoulder!"

"Dog on it," said James, giving a fidge with his hainches; "Dog on it, as
I am a living sinner, that is the head of a Willie-goat."

"Willie or Nannie," answered I, "it's not meat for me; and never shall an
ounce of it cross the craig of my family:--that is as sure as ever James
Batter drave a shuttle. Give counsel in need, James: what is to be
done?"

"That needs consideration," quo' James, giving a bit hoast. "Unless he
makes ample apology, and explains the mistake in a feasible way, it is my
humble opinion that he ought to be summoned before his betters. That is
the legal way to make him smart for his sins."

At last a thought struck me, and I saw farther through my difficulties
than ever mortal man did through a millstone; but, like a politician, I
minted not the matter to James. Keeping my tongue cannily within my
teeth, I then laid the head, wrapped up in the bit towel, in a corner
behind the counter; and, turning my face round again to James, I put my
hands into my breeches-pockets, as if nothing in the world had happened,
and ventured back to the story of the mermaid. I asked him how she
looked--what kind of dress she wore--if she swam with her corsets--what
was the colour of her hair--where she would buy the tortoise-shell
comb--and so on; when, just as he was clearing his pipe to reply, who
should burst open the shop-door like a clap of thunder, with burning
cat's een, and a face as red as a soldier's jacket, but Cursecowl
himself, with the new killing-coat in his hand,--which, giving tremendous
curse, the words of which are not essentially necessary for me to repeat,
being an elder of our kirk, he made play flee at me with such a birr,
that it twisted round my neck, and mostly blinding me, made me doze like
a tottum. At the same time, to clear his way, and the better to enable
him to take a good mark, he gave James Batter a shove, that made him
stoiter against the wall, and snacked the good new farthing tobacco-pipe,
that James was taking his first whiff out of; crying, at the same blessed
moment--"Hold out o' my road, ye long withered wabster. Ye're a pair of
havering idiots; but I'll have pennyworths out of both your skins, as I'm
a sinner!"

What was to be done? There was no time for speaking, for Cursecowl,
foaming like