d, papa, I thought Mr. John Ballantyne might have been
expected." This allusion to Johnny's glory in being considered as the
accredited representative of Jedediah Cleishbotham produced a
laugh,--at which the Sheriff frowned--and then laughed too.

[Footnote 119: When playing, in childhood, with the
young ladies of the Buccleuch family, she had been
overheard saying to her namesake Lady Anne Scott, "Well,
I do wish I were Lady Anne too--it is so much prettier
than Miss;" thenceforth she was commonly addressed in
the family by the coveted title.]

I remember nothing particular about our second day's dinner, except
that it was then I first met my dear and honored friend William
Laidlaw. The evening passed rather more quietly than the preceding
one. Instead of the dance in the new dining-room, we had a succession
of old ballads sung to the harp and guitar by the young ladies of the
house; and Scott, when they seemed to have done enough, found some
reason for taking down a volume of Crabbe, and read us one of his
favorite tales,--

"Grave Jonas Kindred, Sibyl Kindred's sire,
Was six feet high, and looked six inches higher," etc.

But jollity revived in full vigor when the supper-tray was introduced;
and to cap all merriment, Captain Ferguson dismissed us with The Laird
of Cockpen. Lord and Lady Melville were to return to Melville Castle
next {p.291} morning, and Mr. Wilson and I happened to mention that
we were engaged to dine and sleep at the seat of my friend and
relation, Mr. Pringle of Torwoodlee, on our way to Edinburgh. Scott
immediately said that he would send word in the morning to the Laird,
that he and Adam Ferguson meant to accompany us--such being the
unceremonious style in which country neighbors in Scotland visit each
other. Next day, accordingly, we all rode over together to Mr.
Pringle's beautiful seat--the "distant Torwoodlee" of The Lay of the
Last Minstrel, but distant not above five or six miles from
Abbotsford--coursing hares as we proceeded, but inspecting the
antiquities of the _Catrail_ to the interruption of our sport. We had
another joyous evening at Torwoodlee. Scott and Ferguson returned home
at night, and the morning after, as Wilson and I mounted for
Edinburgh, our kind old host, his sides still sore with laughter,
remarked that "the Sheriff and the Captain together were too much for
any company."

Th