equently found; and I have more than
one skull with horns of most formidable dimensions.

About a fortnight ago we had a great football match in
Selkirkshire, when the Duke of Buccleuch raised his banner
(a very curious and ancient pennon) in great form. Your
friend Walter was banner-bearer, dressed, like a forester of
old, in green, with a green bonnet, and an eagle feather in
it; and, as he was well mounted, and rode handsomely over
the field, he was much admired by all his clansmen.

I have thrown these trifles together, without much hope that
they will afford you amusement; but I know you will wish to
know what I am about, and I have but trifles to send to
those friends who interest themselves about a trifler. My
present employment is watching, from time to time, the
progress of a stupid cause, in order to be ready to reduce
the sentence into writing, when the Court shall have decided
whether Gordon of Kenmore or MacMichan of Meikleforthhead be
the superior of the lands of Tarschrechan and Dalbrattie,
and entitled to the feudal casualties payable forth thereof,
which may amount to twopence sterling, once in half a dozen
of years. Marry, sir, they make part of a freehold
qualification, and the decision may wing a voter. I did not
send the book you received by the Selkirk coach. I wish I
could have had sense enough to send anything which could
afford you consolation. I think our friend {p.093} Lady
Louisa was likely to have had this attention; she has, God
knows, been herself tried with affliction, and is well
acquainted with the sources from which comfort can be drawn.
My wife joins in kindest remembrances, as do Sophia and
Walter. Ever yours affectionately,

Walter SCOTT.

This letter is dated the 22d of December. On the 26th, John
Ballantyne, being then at Abbotsford, writes to Messrs. Constable:
"Paul is _all_ in hand;" and an envelope, addressed to James
Ballantyne on the 29th, has preserved another little fragment of
Scott's playful doggerel:--

"Dear James--I'm done, thank God, with the long yarns
Of the most prosy of Apostles--Paul;
And now advance, sweet Heathen of Monkbarns,
Step out, old quizz, as fast as I can scrawl."

{p.094} CHAPTER XXXVII.

Publication of Paul's Letters to his Kinsfolk.