And, finally, when that merciless scytheman cometh who makes hay of every man, and mows down your honour with the rest of them, I pray that the chariots of heaven may not keep your honour's soul awaiting, but that the horses of the other world may arrive speedily, and, with a great sound of trumpets, convey you to that great forecourt where Abraham, Isaac, and the other Jewish patriarchs, side by side with three and thirty red-breeched, heaven-ascended gipsy fiddlers, dance the Kalla duet in velvet pump-hose.

God grant your honour many more days! I wish it from the bottom of my heart." Master Jock handsomely recompensed the youth who had rattled off this odd salutation without missing a word.

Yet it was observed that he did not take as much pleasure in it as of yore.
And now a pretty young damsel approached--the loveliest virgin that could be found within the limits of seven villages.

She brought him a white lamb as a birthday present, and made him some sort of a speech besides; but what it was all about nobody could tell, she spoke so low.
They kept on telling her not to hold her apron before her mouth, as they could not hear a word; but it was of no use.
It was a good old custom on Master Jock's birthday to admit the damsel who made the pretty speech on this occasion among the guests, and seat her beside Master Jock at table; and thus she was the only woman present at the banquet.

And rumour added that still worse things befell towards the end of the feast, when the wine had mounted into the heads of the guests, and the lamb-maiden had been caught in the whirl of an unwonted carouse.