once fulfilling to the letter the tradition of his hero and model. His
humorous verses to Mr. Torrance on that occasion - "Kenspeckle here my
lane I stand" - unfortunately too indelicate for further citation, ran
through the country like a fiery cross - they were recited, quoted,
paraphrased, and laughed over as far away as Dumfries on the one hand
and Dunbar on the other.

These four brothers were united by a close bond, the bond of that mutual
admiration - or rather mutual hero-worship - which is so strong among
the members of secluded families who have much ability and little
culture. Even the extremes admired each other. Hob, who had as much
poetry as the tongs, professed to find pleasure in Dand's verses; Clem,
who had no more religion than Claverhouse, nourished a heartfelt, at
least an open-mouthed, admiration of Gib's prayers; and Dandie followed
with relish the rise of Clem's fortunes. Indulgence followed hard on
the heels of admiration. The laird, Clem, and Dand, who were Tories and
patriots of the hottest quality, excused to themselves, with a certain
bashfulness, the radical and revolutionary heresies of Gib. By another
division of the family, the laird, Clem, and Gib, who were men exactly
virtuous, swallowed the dose of Dand's irregularities as a kind of clog
or drawback in the mysterious providence of God affixed to bards, and
distinctly probative of poetical genius. To appreciate the simplicity
of their mutual admiration it was necessary to hear Clem, arrived upon
one of his visits, and dealing in a spirit of continuous irony with the
affairs and personalities of that great city of Glasgow where he lived
and transacted business. The various personages, ministers of the
church, municipal officers, mercantile big-wigs, whom he had occasion to
introduce, were all alike denigrated, all served but as reflectors to
cast back a flattering side-light on the house of Cauldstaneslap. The
Provost, for whom Clem by exception entertained a measure of respect, he