ling over the History of Sir William Wallace, or the lives of the
Seven Champions of Christendom, I used to fancy myself Wallace or Saint
George; and I resolved, that when I lived to be a man, that I would be a
soldier and a hero like them; and I used to think what a grand thing it
would be for you and my mother, and all my acquaintances, to be reading
about me and my exploits! The continual talking about the war and the
French, and of their intention to invade Britain, all strengthened my early
desires. Often when I was reading the newspapers to you and your friends,
and about the gallant deeds of any particular individual, though I used to
read _his name_ aloud to you, I always read it in to myself as though it
were my own. I had resolved to enlist before the false alarm took place;
and, when you and the other volunteers marched out of Dunse to Haddington,
I could not resist the temptation which it offered of seeing and being
present at a battle. About half-an-hour after you left the town, I followed
ye, and, as ye are already aware, overtook poor Jonathan Barlowman, who had
fallen behind the corps, in great distress, apparently both of body and
mind. He seemed to be in a swither whether to return home, to follow ye, or
to lie down and die by the road. I knew him by the sound of the lamentation
he was making, and, accosting him, I inquired--'What is the matter wi' ye,
Jonathan! Has ony o' the French, concealed aboot the moors, shot ye
already?' 'Oh,' he replied, 'I am ill--I am dying!--I am dying!--I will
give any money for a substitute!' 'Gie me yer gun,' said I, 'and I will be
yer substitute without money.' 'A thousand blessings upon yer head, Robie,
lad!' said he; 'ye shall hae my gun, and ye may tak also my greatcoat and
knapsack, for they only encumber me. Ye hae rescued a dying man.' I was
nearly as tall as he; and, though his coat was loose about me, when I got
it on, and his musket over my shoulder, and felt that I was marching like
an armed knight of old against the invaders of my country, I felt as proud
as an emperor; I would not have changed situations with a king. I overtook
you, and you know the rest. At Haddington, the strong ale was too strong
for me. I was also sorely mortified to find all my prospects of becoming a
hero blasted. When, therefore, you went out to take our places in the
coach to Dunbar, I slipped out of the room, and hiding Mr Barlowman's coat
and gun in a closet, in the house, I took the r