CHRISTOPHER ON COLONSAY. 75 Heelans, you micht hae concluded the Nummer wi' this Noctes. [A still small voice-I'm here. Shepherd. Gude safe us! North. Here's a tribute from an admirer near Cirencester. Say, who is this with crutch so strong, As though he were an imp from hell- 'Tis Christopher on Colonsay. Look! look upon that Tory steed! 'Tis Christopher on Colonsay. Tremble, ye traitors, fight or fly; When question'd, why ye run, then say— Though Lords and Commons marshall'd stand, Or Durham mingle in the fray, Or Althorpe mount a bull at bay, They'll have no time to fight or pray— No power can check him or his steed, Smack through the frighten'd host he flies, Prostrate each smitten Whigling lies. Shepherd. Never heard I man receet his ain praises wi' sic an emphasis ! North. You would not have had me mumble such spirited lines, like an old woman without a tooth in her gums, James? Shepherd. I could mention an auld man that hasna mony teeth in his ain gums, though for a' that, his receetation's no that o' a mummler, Kit. Vanity! vanity! a' is vanity! North. Vanity is one of the most amiable of the large Family of Human Frailties. Shepherd. I never said ye wasna amiable, sir. North. Nobody at least can justly accuse me of being proud. Shepherd. Lucifer's a Moses to you, sir, in pride. You're a singular instance o' pride and vanity-till your time thocht incompatible-meetin in equal proportions in the same cha racter. For an hour I've seen you sae vain, that I couldna help pityin ye-during the neist sae proud, that I couldna help hatin ye—and yet sae strange a thing is human nature, that at the end o' the third hour, the only feelings I had for the anomaly were admiration and love. North. It is with you as with the rest of mankind, James— I bring you all round to unite in admiration and love of me at last. Shepherd. Heard ye ever the likes o' that, Mr Buller? Look at the cretur. Vanity in his left ee and pride in his richt! and yet, it maun be confessed, diffused ower the ither features o' THE SHEPHERD BEING DRAWN OUT." 77 his face something verra delichtfu', and a halo round the head o' him, as if, instead o' a sinner, he were a saint. Tickler. I have seldom seen you, James, brighter than you have been to-night-you have felt yourself at home on the leads-on ground-flats I have seen you somewhat dullish-like a luminary in damp. Shepherd. There's naething in this warld I like waur than to be drawn out by a sumph. Buller. I beg pardon, sir? Tickler. Or sumphess. Shepherd. The she's ill,' but no sae ill's the he. Dinna you agree wi' me, Mr Buller? Buller. In what? Shepherd. In thinkin the she sumph's no sae ill's the he. Buller. I hope the he will soon get better-but I am in outer darkness-pray, what is a sumph? Shepherd. Anither instance o' that extraordinary ignorance that no that seldom breaks out unexpectedly in weel-edicated Englishmen, and seems sae surprising to us on this side o' the Tweed! But leavin you to construe sumph, I shall simplify the question, sir, by askin ye just "hoo like ye to be drawnout ava?" Buller. I very much doubt if I should like it. What is the nature of that process? Shepherd. He's in the dark about that limb o' the query too. The sumph, you see, sir, sits himsel doun richt opposite ye at denner, and afore you hae had time to cool the first spoonfu' o' cocky-leeky, or potawto-soup, by blawin upon't, he selecks ane frae some twa-three dizzen o' topics, that are a' lyin arranged cut and dry, in separate raws on the floor o' that lumber-room, his head. Buller. Good, good-I have you now, Mr Hogg. Shepherd. And in which he conceives you to take sic an enthusiastic interest, as to amount on't to the half-mad, whereas the subjecks are lyin so laigh doun amang the dubs o' obscurest dirt, that even in your meaner moments you would despise yoursel for condescending to honour't wi' your contempt. North. What think you, James, of being pitted? Shepherd. O bein' what? North. Asked to dinner that you may be pitted by your 1 Ill-that is, insufferable. 78 NORTH BEING PITTED." host against a cock, fed, clipped out, and heeled to slay you on the sod. Shepherd. It's weel kent I never argue nane-therefore I'm never asked to denner to be pitted-only to be drawn out. North. I can spar, and fight a bit too, James-but 'tis teasing to be tackled to by a Bantam. Onwards he comes sidelong with his wing down, comb and wattles glowing like fiery furnace, and picking up straws in his pride of place-then drawing himself up to his whole extent, he crows to cow your heart, and without farther ceremony flies at you like a fury to tear you into pieces. With one cuff you make him spin out of sight-and if any one hopes to find him, he must look below the table. Shepherd. That's makin a short business wi' the bit bantan. North. Or perhaps you have been invited to single combat with a Dunghill. Sole monarch of all he has been habituated to survey on the stercoraceous heap, he has come to think himself invincible-but at the first tussle of "The sportive fury of the fencer's steel," with one insane scraugh he bolts, and hides his head in a hole in the wall, unashamed of the exposure of his enormous bottom. Shepherd. Poutry should never be pitted wi' ggem. North. I have known the master of a house entice you to dinner that he might see a set-to between you and a mastiff. Shepherd. Surely no wi' the conneevance o' the mistress? North. The surly brute, with black muzzle and swarthy eyes, has kept grimly watching you till the cloth be drawnand then curling up his lip to show you his fangs, without any provocation on your part, began to growl Shepherd. Afore the leddies? North. And then, in spite of your submission, leapt at your throat, with his paws over your shoulder, with a view to the jugular. Shepherd. What a pictur o' a great big brindled outrageous Radical, insistin on the separation o' Church and State! North. It requires some strength, James, I assure you, to shake off such a monster. Shepherd. But his bark's waur than his bite. NORTH'S ARGUMENTUM AD CANEM. 79 North. The best way is to seize him with both hands and throttle him, till his tongue is bitten through and through by his teeth, his eyes goggled, and he drops. I call that the argumentum ad canem. Shepherd. It's conclusive. North. Or what think you, James, of a pack of young Whig curs Shepherd. Pups. North. Yelping at you all round the table Shepherd. And Christopher North the whupper-in? I pity the puir pups. North. I have suffered all that and more, James. Yet perhaps worse than them all is it, on a three weeks' invitation, to go, as an especial favour, and to confer an obligation which will never be forgotten-to meet an ass. Shepherd. Or a mool. North. A downright positive ass. Shepherd. As a' the asses are o' ma acquentance-but I'm speakin the noo o' our ain native breed, an' aiblins you're alludin to ane frae foreign pairts-where they grow to a far greater size-as in Spain." North. No, James, your continental cuddy coming over to this country is mostly mute. Shepherd. Hasna learned the langage. North. The one I last met-for upwards of four hoursnever for a moment ceased to bray. Shepherd. And did ye cudgel him sair? North. I did. But I am bound in candour to confess that he was little or none the better of it—and for the first time in my life, I am ashamed to say, I was fairly brayed off the field. Shepherd. And the neist day, a' the town wad nae dout be ringin wi' your defeat. North. Ichabod! Ichabod! the glory of our conversational powers was gone for ever, and the victorious donkey kept braying his way over the Border, communicating tidings of our discomfiture all over merry England. Shepherd. Swearin he had swallowed the Thane o' the Scotch Thrissles at a single chow!—I had a delicat compli ment paid me yestreen, sir. I was asked to soop wi' a family that said they had inveeted a pairty to meet me just after my |