_Sir Per_. Vary weel--vary weel,--you were as complaisant as the scoundrel
till the full, I think, my lord.

_Lord Lum_. You shall hear,--you shall hear, Mac:--so, sir, with great
composure, seeing a smart oaken cudgel that stood very handily in a corner
of my dressing room, I ordered two of my fellows to hold the rascal, and
another to take the cudgel and return the scoundrel's civility with a good
drubbing as long as the stick lasted.

_Sir Per_. Ha, ha, ha!--admirable!--as guid a stroke of humour as ever I
heard of.--And did they drub him, my lord?

_Lord Lum_. Most liberally--most liberally, sir.--And there I thought
the affair would have rested, till I should think proper to pay the
soundrel,--but this morning, just as I was stepping into my chaise, my
servants all about me, a fellow, called a tipstaff, slept up and begged
the favour of my footman, who threshed the upholsterer, and of the two
that held him, to go along with him upon a little business to my Lord
Chief Justice.

_Sir Per_. The devil!

_Lord Lum_. And at the same instant, I, in my turn, was accosted by two
other very civil scoundrels, who, with a most insolent politeness, begged
my pardon, and informed me that I must not go into my own chaise.

_Sir Per_. How, my lord?--not into your ain carriage?

_Lord Lum_. No, sir: for that they, by order of the sheriff, must seize