be noticed, that the Bailie, knowing by experience that the
day's joviality, which had been hitherto sustained at the expense of his
patron, might terminate partly at his own, had mounted his spavined grey
pony, and, between gaiety of heart, and alarm for being hooked into a
reckoning, spurred him into a hobbling canter (a trot was out of the
question), and had already cleared the village. The others entered the
change-house, leading Edward in unresisting submission; for his landlord
whispered him, that to demur to such an overture would be construed into
a high misdemeanour against the LEGES CONVIVIALES, or regulations of
genial compotation. Widow Macleary seemed to have expected this visit,
as well she might, for it was the usual consummation of merry bouts, not
only at Tully-Veolan, but at most other gentlemen's houses in Scotland,
Sixty Years since. The guests thereby at once acquitted themselves of
their burden of gratitude for their entertainer's kindness, encouraged
the trade of his change-house, did honour to the place which afforded
harbour to their horses, and indemnified themselves for the previous
restraints imposed by private hospitality, by spending, what Falstaff
calls the sweet of the night, in the genial license of a tavern.

Accordingly, in full expectation of these distinguished guests, Luckie
Macleary had swept her house for the first time this fortnight, tempered
her turf-fire to such a heat as the season required in her damp hovel
even at Midsummer, set forth her deal table newly washed, propped its
lame foot with a fragment of turf, arranged four or five stools of huge
and clumsy form, upon the sites which best suited the inequalities of
her clay floor; and having, moreover, put on her clean toy, rokelay, and
scarlet plaid, gravely awaited the arrival of the company, in full hope
of custom and profit. When they were seated under the sooty rafters of
Luckie Macleary's only apartment, thickly tapestried with cobwebs, their
hostess, who had already taken her cue from the Laird of Balmawhapple,
appeared with a huge pewter measuring-pot, containing at least three
English quarts, familiarly denominated a TAPPIT HEN, and which, in the
language of the hostess, reamed (i.e. mantled) with excellent claret,
just drawn from the cask.

It was soon plain that what crumbs of reason the Bear had not devoured,
were to be picked up by the Hen; but the confusion which appeared to
prevail favoured Edward's resolutio