"Why, because the old pig-headed fool, Saunders Jaup, will not allow it to be made smooth.
There he sits, sir, and obstructs all rational improvement; and, if a man would not fall into his infernal putrid gutter, and so become an abomination to himself and odious to others, for his whole life to come, he runs the risk of breaking his neck, as I have done to-night." "I am afraid, sir," said his companion, "you have fallen on the most dangerous side .-- You remember Swift's proverb, 'The more dirt, the less hurt.'" "But why should there be either dirt or hurt in a well-regulated place ?" answered Touchwood--"Why should not men be able to go about their affairs at night, in such a hamlet as this, without either endangering necks or noses ?--Our Scottish magistrates are worth nothing, sir--nothing at all.

Oh for a Turkish Cadi, now, to trounce the scoundrel--or the Mayor of Calcutta to bring him into his court--or were it but an English Justice of the Peace that is newly included in the commission, they would abate the villain's nuisance with a vengeance on him!--But here we are--this is the Cleikum Inn .-- Hallo--hilloa--house!--Eppie Anderson!--Beenie Chambermaid!--boy Boots!--Mrs.Dods!--are you all of you asleep and dead ?--Here have I been half murdered, and you let me stand bawling at the door!" Eppie Anderson came with a light, and so did Beenie Chambermaid with another; but no sooner did they look upon the pair who stood in the porch under the huge sign that swung to and fro with heavy creaking, than Beenie screamed, flung away her candle, although a four in the pound, and in a newly japanned candlestick, and fled one way, while Eppie Anderson, echoing the yell, brandished her light round her head like a Bacchante flourishing her torch, and ran off in another direction.
"Ay--I must be a bloody spectacle," said Mr.Touchwood, letting himself fall heavily upon his assistant's shoulder, and wiping his face, which trickled with wet--"I did not think I had been so seriously hurt; but I find my weakness now--I must have lost much blood." "I hope you are still mistaken," said the stranger; "but here lies the way to the kitchen--we shall find light there, since no one chooses to bring it to us." [Illustration] He assisted the old gentleman into the kitchen, where a lamp, as well as a bright fire, was burning, by the light of which he could easily discern that the supposed blood was only water of the rivulet, and, indeed, none of the cleanest, although much more so than the sufferer would have found it a little lower, where the stream is joined by the superfluities of Saunders Jaup's palladium.

Relieved by his new friend's repeated assurances that such was the case, the Senior began to bustle up a little, and his companion, desirous to render him every assistance, went to the door of the kitchen to call for a basin and water.

Just as he was about to open the door, the voice of Mrs.Dods was heard as she descended the stairs, in a tone of indignation by no means unusual to her, yet mingled at the same time with a few notes that sounded like unto the quaverings of consternation.
"Idle limmers--silly sluts--I'll warrant nane o' ye will ever see ony thing waur than yoursell, ye silly tawpies--Ghaist, indeed!--I'll warrant it's some idle dub-skelper frae the Waal, coming after some o' yoursells on nae honest errand--Ghaist, indeed!--Haud up the candle, John Ostler--I'se warrant it a twa-handed ghaist, and the door left on the sneck.

There's somebody in the kitchen--gang forward wi' the lantern, John Ostler." At this critical moment the stranger opened the door of the kitchen, and beheld the Dame advancing at the head of her household troops.