to say--he likit the lug o' ane weel, honest man."

I made a suitable apology for my breach of punctuality, and was soon
seated at table, where Mr. Jarvie presided with great glee and
hospitality, compelling, however, Owen and myself to do rather more
justice to the Scottish dainties with which his board was charged, than
was quite agreeable to our southern palates. I escaped pretty well, from
having those habits of society which enable one to elude this species of
well-meant persecution. But it was ridiculous enough to see Owen, whose
ideas of politeness were more rigorous and formal, and who was willing,
in all acts of lawful compliance, to evince his respect for the friend of
the firm, eating with rueful complaisance mouthful after mouthful of
singed wool, and pronouncing it excellent, in a tone in which disgust
almost overpowered civility.

When the cloth was removed, Mr. Jarvie compounded with his own hands a
very small bowl of brandy-punch, the first which I had ever the fortune
to see.

"The limes," he assured us, "were from his own little farm yonder-awa"
(indicating the West Indies with a knowing shrug of his shoulders), "and
he had learned the art of composing the liquor from auld Captain
Coffinkey, who acquired it," he added in a whisper, "'as maist folk
thought, among the Buccaniers. But it's excellent liquor," said he,
helping us round; "and good ware has aften come frae a wicked market. And
as for Captain Coffinkey, he was a decent man when I kent him, only he
used to swear awfully--But he's dead, and gaen to his account, and I
trust he's accepted--I trust he's accepted."

We found the liquor exceedingly palatable, and it led to a long