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Dootless, they're at the root o' the danger o' yer bonny barony o' Coberston. By the rood! I wish I had a dash at their big curches." "Ay, Will," responded Traquair; "but they're securely lodged in their strong Parliament House, and the difficulty is how to get at them." "But I fancy ane o' the lurdons will satisfy yer Lordship," said Will, "or do ye want them a' lodged in Græme's Tower?
"Thou hast thyself said she is a woman," replied the Warden, smiling, "and I correct thee not. Hast thou ever heard, Will, of fifteen old women 'lurdons, as the good people call them that reside in a large house in the Parliament close of Edinburgh?"
Their appearance in the long gowns, with sleeves down to the hands, wigs whose lappets fell on their breasts, displaying many a line of crucified curl, and white cambric cravats falling from below their gaucy double-chins on their bosoms, suggested at once the appellation of lurdons, often applied to them in those days, and now vivid in the fancy of the staring Borderer, whose wild and lawless life was so strangely contrasted with that of the drowsy, effeminate-looking individuals who sat before him.
"Brawly, brawly," answered Will, with a particular leer of fun and intelligence; "and weel may I ken the limmers real lurdons, wi' lang gowns and curches. Ken them! Wha that has a character to lose, or a property to keep against the claims o' auld parchment, doesna ken thae fifteen auld runts? They keep the hail country side in a steer wi' their scandal.
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