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Updated: May 23, 2025
"A Kelso convoy!" echoed the inquisitive Antiquary; "and why a Kelso convoy more than any other?" "Dear sir," answered Caxon, "how should I ken? it's just a by-word." "Caxon," answered Oldbuck, "thou art a mere periwig-maker Had I asked Ochiltree the question, he would have had a legend ready made to my hand."
"Good, Caxon, very good! why, you shine this morning." "And besides," added Caxon, slyly, encouraged by his patron's approbation, "they say, too, that the Catholic priests in thae times gat something for ganging about to burials." "Right, Caxon! right as my glove!
Mailsetter's belief, that the sheriff sent his groom to put them into the post-office at Tannonburgh; it's my puir thought, that he jaloused their looking into his letters at Fairport; and weel had he need, for my puir daughter Jenny" "Tut, don't plague me with your womankind, Caxon. About this poor young lad. Does he write nothing but letters?" "Ou, ay hale sheets o' other things, Mrs.
"A Kelso convoy!" echoed the inquisitive Antiquary; "and why a Kelso convoy more than any other?" "Dear sir," answered Caxon, "how should I ken? it's just a by-word." "Caxon," answered Oldbuck, "thou art a mere periwig-maker Had I asked Ochiltree the question, he would have had a legend ready made to my hand."
"Fly with this letter, Caxon," said the senior, holding out his missive, signatum atque sigillatum, "fly to Knockwinnock, and bring me back an answer. Go as fast as if the town-council were met and waiting for the provost, and the provost was waiting for his new-powdered wig." "Ah sir," answered the messenger, with a deep sigh, "thae days hae lang gane by.
"But winna ye first send awa Mr. Lovel's letter?" said Mrs. Heukbane. "Troth I kenna wha to send wi't till the gudeman comes hame, for auld Caxon tell'd me that Mr. Lovel stays a' the day at Monkbarns he's in a high fever, wi' pu'ing the laird and Sir Arthur out o' the sea." "Silly auld doited carles!" said Mrs. Shortcake; "what gar'd them gang to the douking in a night like yestreen!"
"Ou, ay," answered the faithful Caxon, officiously brushing the white threads and specks from his patron's habit. "The body, God help us! was sae broken against the rocks that they're fain to hurry the burial. The sea's a kittle cast, as I tell my daughter, puir thing, when I want her to get up her spirits; the sea, says I, Jenny, is as uncertain a calling"
But away with you! you have an excellent view of public affairs, and, I dare say, have touched the cause of our popular discontent as closely as the provost could have done himself. But away with you, Caxon!" And off went Caxon upon his walk of three miles He hobbled but his heart was good! Could he go faster than he could?
While the verses were yet singing, Lovel had returned to his bed; the train of ideas which they awakened was romantic and pleasing, such as his soul delighted in, and, willingly adjourning till more broad day the doubtful task of determining on his future line of conduct, he abandoned himself to the pleasing languor inspired by the music, and fell into a sound and refreshing sleep, from which he was only awakened at a late hour by old Caxon, who came creeping into the room to render the offices of a valet-de-chambre.
The next morning the Antiquary arose early, and, as Caxon had not yet made his appearance, he began mentally to feel the absence of the petty news and small talk of which the ex-peruquier was a faithful reporter, and which habit had made as necessary to the Antiquary as his occasional pinch of snuff, although he held, or affected to hold, both to be of the same intrinsic value.
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