he health and prosperity of the ancient and
highly-to-be-honoured house of Waverley.'

During this long harangue, he carefully decanted a cobwebbed bottle of
claret into the goblet, which held nearly an English pint; and, at the
conclusion, delivering the bottle to the butler, to be held carefully in
the same angle with the horizon, he devoutly quaffed off the contents of
the Blessed Bear of Bradwardine.

Edward, with horror and alarm, beheld the animal making his rounds,
and thought with great anxiety upon the appropriate motto, 'Beware the
Bear;' but at the same time plainly foresaw, that as none of the guests
scrupled to do him this extraordinary honour, a refusal on-his part
to pledge their courtesy would be extremely ill received. Resolving,
therefore, to submit to this last piece of tyranny, and then to quit the
table, if possible, and confiding in the strength of his constitution,
he did justice to the company in the contents of the Blessed Bear, and
felt less inconvenience from the draught than he could possibly have
expected. The others, whose time had been more actively employed, began
to show symptoms of innovation,--'the good wine did its good office.'
[Southey's MADOC.] The frost of etiquette, and pride of birth, began to
give way before the genial blessings of this benign constellation, and
the formal appellatives with which the three dignitaries had hitherto
addressed each other, were now familiarly abbreviated into Tully,
Bally, and Killie. When a few rounds had passed, the two latter, after
whispering together, craved permission (a joyful hearing for Edward) to
ask the grace-cup. This, after some delay, was at length produced, and
Waverley concluded that the orgies of Bacchus were terminated for the
evening. He was never more mistaken in his life.

As the guests had left their horses at the small inn, or CHANGE-HOUSE,
as it was called, of the village, the Baron could not, in politeness,
avoid walking with them up the avenue, and Waverley, from the same
motive, and to enjoy, after this feverish revel, the cool summer
evening, attended the party. But when they arrived at Luckie Macleary's,
the Lairds of Balmawhapple and Killancureit declared their determination
to acknowledge their sense of the hospitality of Tully-Veolan, by
partaking with their entertainer and his guest Captain Waverley, what
they technically called DEOCH AN DORUIS, a stirrup-cup, to the honour of
the Baron's roof-tree. [8]

It must