o' the sinning-(perhaps she meant cinnamon)—— waters, Mrs Mailsetter, my dear-Ah! lassies, an had kend his brother as I did — mony a time ye he wad slip in to see me wi' a brace o' wild deukes in his pouch, when my first gudeman was awa' at the Falkirk tryst—weel, weel—we'se no speak o' that e'enow." ony « I winna say ony ill o' this Monkbarns," said Mrs Shortcake; « his brother ne'er brought me wild deukes, and this is a douce honest man we serve the family wi' bread, and he settles wi' huz ilka week-only he was in an unco kippage when we sent him a book instead o' the nick-sticks, whilk, he said, were the true ancient way o' counting between tradesmen and customers, and sae they are, nae doubt.» << But look here, lassies,» interrupted Mrs Mailsetter, « here's a sight for sair e'en!-What wad ye gie to ken what's in the inside o' this letter? -this is new corn-I hae nae seen the like o' this - For William Lovel, Esquire, at Mrs Hadoway's, High-street, Fairport, by Edinburgh, N. B. This is just the second letter he has had since he was here." « Lord's sake, let's see, lass! Lord's sake, let's see-that's him that the hale town kens naething about-and a weel-fa'ard lad he is-let's see, let's see." Thus ejaculated the two worthy representatives of mother Eve. « Na, na, sirs," exclaimed Mrs Mailsetter; haud awa-bide aff I tell you--this is nane o' your fourpenny cuts that we might make up the value to the post-office amang ourselves if ony mischance befell it the postage is five and twenty shillings- and here's an order frae the Secretary to forward it to the young gentleman by express, if he's no at hame. Na, na, sirs, this manna be roughly guided." « But just let's look at the outside o't, wo man.» Nothing could be gathered from the outside, except remarks on the various properties which philosophers ascribe to matter-length, breadth, depth, and weight. The packet was composed of strong thick paper, imperviable by the curious eyes of the gossips, though they stared as if they would burst from their sockets. The seal was a deep and strong impression of arms, which defied all tampering. «Odd, lass," said Mrs Shortcake, weighing it in her hand, and wishing, doubtless, that the too, too solid wax would melt and dissolve itself, « I wad like to ken what's in the inside o' this, for that Lovel dings a' that ever set foot on the plainstanes o' Fairport-naebody kens what to make o' him."> " Weel, weel, leddies,» said the postmistress, we'se sit down and crack about it--Baby, bring ben the tea-water-Mickle obliged to ye for your cookies, Mrs Shortcake-and then we'll steek the shop, and cry 'ben Baby, and take a hand at the cartes till the gudeman comes hame -and then we'll try your braw veal sweet-bread that ye were so kind as send me, Mrs Heukbane." << But winna ye first send awa' Mr Lovel's letter?" said Mrs Heukbanę. << Troth Ikenna wha to send wi't'till the gudeman comes hame, for auld Caxon tell'd me that Mr Lovel stays a' the day at Monkbarns—he's in a high fever wi' pu'ing the laird and Sir Arthur out o' the sea." Silly auld doited carles,» said Mrs Shortcake; « what gar'd them gang a douking in a night like yestreen?» << I was gi'en to understand it was auld Edie that saved them,» said Mrs Heukbane; « Edie Ochiltree, the Blue-gown, ye ken - and that he pu'd the hale three out of the auld fish pond, for Monkbarns had threepit on them to gang in till't to see the wark o' the monks lang syne.>> Hout, lass, nonsense," answered the postmistress; « I'll tell ye a' about it as Caxon tell't it to me. Ye see, Sir Arthur and Miss Wardour, and Mr Lovel, suld hae dined at Monkbarns>> « But, Mrs Mailsetter,» again interrupted Mrs Heukbane, « will ye no be for sending awa' this letter by express?-there's our poney and our callant hae gane expresses for the office or now, and the poney hasna gane abune thirty mile the day--Jock was sorting him up as I came ower bye.» " Why, Mrs Heukbane,» said the woman of letters, pursing up her mouth, « ye ken my gude man likes to ride the expresses himsel—we maun gie our ain fish guts to our ain sea-maws—its a red half-guinea to him every time he mounts his mare--and I dare say he'll be in sune— or I dare to say, it's the same thing whether the gentleman gets the express this night or early next morning.» Only that Mr Lovel will be in toun before the express goes off,» said Mrs Heukbane, «and whare are ye then, lass?--but ye ken yere ain ways best." « Weel, weel, Mrs Heukbane,» answered Mrs Mailsetter, a little out of humour, and even out of countenance, «I am sure I am never against being neighbour-like, and living, and letting live, as they say, and since I hae been sic a fule as to show you the. post-office order—ou, nae doubt, it maun be obeyed-but I'll no need your callant, mony thanks to ye-I'll send little Davie on your powney, and that will be just five-and-threepence to ilka yane o' us.» « Davie! Lord help ye, the bairn's no ten year auld; and to be plain wi' ye, our poney reists a bit, and it's dooms sweer to the road, and naebody can manage him but our Jock.» " << I'm sorry for that,» answered the postmistress gravely, it's like we maun wait then till the gudeman comes hame, after a'--for I wadna like to be responsible in trusting the letter to sic a callant as Jock-our Davie belangs in a manner to the office." " Aweel, a weel, Mrs Mailsetter, I see what ye wad be at-but an ye like to risk the bairn, I'll risk the beast." Orders were accordingly given. The unwilling poney was brought out of his bed of straw, and again equipped for service-Davie (a leathern post-bag strapped across his shoulders) was perched upon the saddle, with a tear in his eye, and a switch in his hand. Jock good-naturedly led the animal out of the town, and by the crack of his whip, and the hoop and halloo of his too well known voice, compelled it to take the road towards Monkbarns. Meanwhile the gossips, like the sybils after consulting their leaves, arranged and combined the information of the evening, which flew next morning through an hundred channels, and in an hundred varieties, through the world of Fairport. Many, strange, and inconsistent, were the rumours to which their communications and conjectures gave rise. Some said Tennant and Co. were broken, and that all their bills had come back protested-others that they had got a great contract from government, and letters from the principal merchants at Glasgow, desiring to have shares upon a premium. One report stated that Lieutenant Taffril had acknowledged a private marriage with Jenny Caxon-another that he had sent her a letter, upbraiding her with the lowness of her birth and education, and bidding her an eternal adieu. It was generally reported that Sir Arthur Wardour's affairs had fallen into irretrievable confusion, and this rumour was only |