Gude nicht to ye a', gentlemen.' So saying, Meg set the lighted candle on the sideboard, and finally vanished.

The good-tempered, who formed the greater part of the company, smiled to each other, and emptied the last drops of their toddy first into their glasses, and thence into their mouths.

The ill-tempered, numbering but one more than MacGregor, growled and swore a little, the weaver declaring that he would not go home.

But the rest walked out and left him, and at last, appalled by the silence, he rose with his wig awry, and trotted--he always trotted when he was tipsy--home to his wife..