they beheld daft Jenny, and her as daft daughter, with a score of
candle doups, (Heaven only knows where they got them!) placed in the
window, and the twa fools dancing, and linking, and admiring before
the door. "What's all this about, Jenny," said Miss Sabrina.--"Awa'
wi' you, awa' wi' you--ye wicked pope, ye whore of Babylon--is na it
for the glory of God, and the Protestant religion? d'ye think I will
be a pope as long as light can put out darkness?"--And with that the
mother and daughter began again to leap and dance as madly as
before.

It seems that poor Jenny, having heard of the luminations that were
lighted up through the country on the ending of the Popish Bill,
had, with Meg, travelled by themselves into Glasgow, where they had
gathered or begged a stock of candles, and coming back under the
cloud of night, had surprised and alarmed the whole clachan, by
lighting up their window in the manner that I have described. Poor
Miss Sabrina, at Jenny's uncivil salutation, went back to my lady
with her heart full, and would fain have had the idiots brought to
task before the session, for what they had said to her. But I would
not hear tell of such a thing, for which Miss Sabrina owed me a
grudge that was not soon given up. At the same time, I was grieved
to see the testimonies of joyfulness for a holy victory, brought
into such disrepute by the ill-timed demonstrations of the two
irreclaimable naturals, that had not a true conception of the cause
for which they were triumphing.



CHAPTER XXII YEAR 1781