clan, was a grievous surprise to the poor man, whose rent (to lose
which would have been ruin) was about his person.

'Jean set up a loud shout of joyful recognition--

"Eh, sirs! the winsome gudeman of Lochside! Light down, light
down; for ye maunna gang farther the night, and a friend's house
sae near." The farmer was obliged to dismount and accept of the
gipsy's offer of supper and a bed. There was plenty of meat in the
barn, however it might be come by, and preparations were going on
for a plentiful repast, which the farmer, to the great increase of
his anxiety, observed was calculated for ten or twelve guests, of
the same description, probably, with his landlady.

'Jean left him in no doubt on the subject. She brought to his
recollection the story of the stolen sow, and mentioned how much
pain and vexation it had given her. Like other philosophers, she
remarked that the world grew worse daily; and, like other parents,
that the bairns got out of her guiding, and neglected the old
gipsy regulations, which commanded them to respect in their
depredations the property of their benefactors. The end of all
this was an inquiry what money the farmer had about him; and an
urgent request, or command, that he would make her his purse-
keeper, since the bairns, as she called her sons, would be soon
home. The poor farmer made a virtue of necessity, told his story,
and surrendered his gold to Jean's custody. She made him put a few
shillings in his pocket, observing, it would excite suspicion
should he be found travelling altogether penniless.

'This arrangement being made, the farmer lay down on a sort of