ooth erected for the purpose;
and no persons were allowed to sell ale or spirits on the
field.

"In the evening there was a dance at the Duke's hunting-seat
at Bowhill, attended by the nobility and gentry who had
witnessed the sport of the day; and the fascination of Gow's
violin and band detained them in the dancing-room till the
dawn of the winter morning."

The newspaper then gives the songs above alluded to--namely, Scott's
Lifting of the Banner:--

"From the brown crest of Newark its summons extending,
Our signal is waving in smoke and in flame,
And each Forester blithe, from his mountain descending,
Bounds light o'er the heather to join in the game;
Then up with the Banner! let forest winds fan her!
She has blazed over Ettrick eight ages and more;
In sport we'll attend her, in battle defend her,
With heart and with hand, like our Fathers before," etc.[26]

[Footnote 26: See _Poetical Works_ (Ed. 1834), vol. xi.
p. 312 [Cambridge Ed. p. 424].]

--and that excellent ditty by Hogg, entitled The Ettrick {p.087}
Garland, to the Ancient Banner of the House of Buccleuch:--

"And hast thou here, like hermit gray,
Thy mystic characters unroll'd,
O'er peaceful revellers to play,
Thou emblem of the days of old?
All hail! memorial of the brave,
The liegeman's pride, the Border's awe!
May thy gray pennon never wave
On sterner field than Carterhaugh!" etc.

I have no doubt the Sheriff of the Forest was a prouder man, when he
saw his boy ride about Carterhaugh with the pennon of Bellenden, than
when Platoff mounted himself for the imperial review of the _Champ de
Mars_. It is a pity that I should have occasion to allude, before I
quit a scene so characteristic of Scott, to another outbreak of Hogg's
jealous humor. His Autobiography informs us, that when the more
distinguished part of the company assembled on the conclusion of the
sport to dine at Bowhill, he was proceeding to place himself at a
particular table--but the Sheriff seized his arm, told him _that_ was
reserved for the nobility, and seated him at an inferior
board--"between himself and the Laird of Harden"--the first gentleman
of the clan Scott. "The fact is," says Hogg, "I am convinced he was
sore afraid of my getting to be too great a favorite among the young
ladies of Buccleuch!" Who can read this, and not be reminded of Sancho