was the first time he ever had fallen a victim to the barley-
fever!

How could we do otherwise! it afforded Nanse and I great pleasure--and no
mistake--in acting the part of good Samaritans, by pouring oil and wine
into his wounds; I having bound up his brow with a Sunday silk-napkin,
and she having fomented his unfortunate ankle with warm water and hog's
lard. The truth is, that I found myself in conscience bound and
obligated to take a deep interest in the decent man's distresses, he
having come to his catastrophe in a cause of mine, and having fallen a
victim to the snares and devices of Cursecowl, instead of myself, for
whom the vagabond's girn was set. Providence decided that, in this
particular case, I should escape; but a better man, James Batter, was
caught in it by the left ankle. What will a body say there?

The web of Lucky Caird, which James had promised to carry home to her on
the Saturday night, was still in the loom, and had I been up to the
craft, I would not have hesitated to have driven the shuttle myself till
I had got it off hand for him; but every man to his trade; so afraid of
consequences, I let the batter and the bobbin-box lie still, trusting to
Lucky Caird's discretion, and my friend's speedy recovery. But the
distress of James Batter was not the business of a day. In the course of
the next night, to be sure, he had some natural sleep, which cleared his
brain from the effects of that dangerous and deluding drink, the "Pap-
in;" but his ankle left him a grievous lameter hirpling on a staff; and,
although his brown scratch and his Kilmarnock helped to hide the bump
upon his temple, the dregs of it fell down upon his e'e-bree, which, to
the consternation of everybody, became as green as a docken leaf.

My friend, however, be it added to this, was not more a sufferer in body
than in estate; for the illness, being of his own bringing on, he could
not make application to the Weavers' Society--of which he had been a
regular member for forty odd years--for his lawful sick-money. But,
being a philosopher, James submitted to his bed of thorns without a
murmur; Nanse and I soothing his calamities, as we best could, by a bowl
of sheep-head broth; a rizzar'd haddock; a tankard of broo-and-bread; a
caller egg; a swine's trotter; and other circumstantialities needless to
repeat--as occasion required.

As for Cursecowl, the invincible reprobate, so ashamed was he of his
infamous conduct, that he did