xander Boswell of Auchinleck, who had all his father _Bozzy's_
cleverness, good-humor, {p.251} and joviality, without one touch of
his meaner qualities,--wrote Jenny dang the Weaver, and some other
popular songs, which he sang capitally--and was moreover a thorough
bibliomaniac; the late Sir Alexander Don of Newton, in all courteous
and elegant accomplishments the model of a cavalier; and last, not
least, William Allan, R. A., who had shortly before this time returned
to Scotland from several years of travel in Russia and Turkey. At one
of these plain hearty dinners, however, the company rarely exceeded
three or four, besides the as yet undivided family.

Scott had a story of a topping goldsmith on the Bridge, who prided
himself on being the mirror of Amphitryons, and accounted for his
success by stating that it was his invariable custom to set his own
stomach at ease, by a beefsteak and a pint of port in his back-shop,
half an hour before the arrival of his guests. But the host of Castle
Street had no occasion to imitate this prudent arrangement, for his
appetite at dinner was neither keen nor nice. Breakfast was his chief
meal. Before that came, he had gone through the severest part of his
day's work, and he then set to with the zeal of Crabbe's Squire
Tovell--

"And laid at once a pound upon his plate."

No fox-hunter ever prepared himself for the field by more substantial
appliances. His table was always provided, in addition to the usually
plentiful delicacies of a Scotch breakfast, with some solid article,
on which he did most lusty execution--a round of beef--a pasty, such
as made Gil Blas's eyes water--or, most welcome of all, a cold sheep's
head, the charms of which primitive dainty he has so gallantly
defended against the disparaging sneers of Dr. Johnson and his
bear-leader.[109] A huge brown loaf flanked his elbow, and it was
placed upon a broad wooden trencher, that he might cut and come again
with the bolder knife. Often did the _Clerks' {p.252} coach_,
commonly called among themselves _the Lively_--which trundled round
every morning to pick up the brotherhood, and then deposited them at
the proper minute in the Parliament Close--often did this lumbering
hackney arrive at his door before he had fully appeased what Homer
calls "the sacred rage of hunger;" and vociferous was the merriment of
the learned _uncles_, when the surprised poet swung forth to join
them, with an extemporized sandwich, that looke