observed--"There never was button on the foil that made this hurt. Ah!
young blood! young blood!--But we surgeons are a secret generation--If
it werena for hot blood and ill blood, what wad become of the twa
learned faculties?"

With which moral reflection he dismissed me; and I experienced very
little pain or inconvenience afterwards from the scratch I had received.






CHAPTER NINTH.


An iron race the mountain-cliffs maintain,
Foes to the gentler genius of the plain.
*******
Who while their rocky ramparts round they see,
The rough abode of want and liberty,
As lawless force from confidence will grow,
Insult the plenty of the vales below.
Gray.

"What made ye sae late?" said Mr. Jarvie, as I entered the dining-parlour
of that honest gentleman; "it is chappit ane the best feek o' five
minutes by-gane. Mattie has been twice at the door wi' the dinner, and
weel for you it was a tup's head, for that canna suffer by delay. A
sheep's head ower muckle boiled is rank poison, as my worthy father used