'He could take it upon his conscience to say, his honour would have exceeding pleasure in seeing him.

Would not Mr.Waverley choose some refreshment after his journey?
His honour was with the folk who were getting doon the dark hag; the twa gardener lads (an emphasis on the word twa) had been ordered to attend him; and he had been just amusing himself in the mean time with dressing Miss Rose's flower-bed, that he might be near to receive his honour's orders, if need were; he was very fond of a garden, but had little time for such divertisements.' 'He canna get it wrought in abune twa days in the week at no rate whatever,' said Edward's fantastic conductor.
A grim look from the butler chastised his interference, and he commanded him, by the name of Davie Gellatley, in a tone which admitted no discussion, to look for his honour at the dark hag, and tell him there was a gentleman from the south had arrived at the Ha'.
'Can this poor fellow deliver a letter ?' asked Edward.
'With all fidelity, sir, to any one whom he respects.

I would hardly trust him with a long message by word of mouth--though he is more knave than fool.' Waverley delivered his credentials to Mr.Gellatley, who seemed to confirm the butler's last observation, by twisting his features at him, when he was looking another way, into the resemblance of the grotesque face on the bole of a German tobacco pipe; after which, with an odd conge to Waverley, he danced off to discharge his errand.
'He is an innocent, sir,' said the butler; 'there is one such in almost every town in the country, but ours is brought far ben.

[Footnote: See Note 8.] He used to work a day's turn weel enough; but he helped Miss Rose when she was flemit with the Laird of Killancureit's new English bull, and since that time we ca' him Davie Do-little; indeed we might ca' him Davie Do-naething, for since he got that gay clothing, to please his honour and my young mistress (great folks will have their fancies), he has done naething but dance up and down about the toun, without doing a single turn, unless trimming the laird's fishing-wand or busking his flies, or may be catching a dish of trouts at an orra time.

But here comes Miss Rose, who, I take burden upon me for her, will be especial glad to see one of the house of Waverley at her father's mansion of Tully-Veolan.' But Rose Bradwardine deserves better of her unworthy historian than to be introduced at the end of a chapter.
In the mean while it may be noticed, that Waverley learned two things from this colloquy: that in Scotland a single house was called a TOWN, and a natural fool an INNOCENT..