CHAPTER THE THIRTY-THIRD.
Now, on my faith, this gear is all entangled,
Like to the yarn-clew of the drowsy knitter,
Dragg’d by the frolic kitten through the cabin,
While the good dame sits nodding o’er the fire!
Masters, attend; ‘twill crave some skill to clear it.
OLD PLAY.
Edward, with the speed of one who doubts the steadiness of his own resolution, hastened to prepare the horses for their departure, and at the same time thanked and dismissed the neighbours who had come to his assistance, and who were not a little surprised both at the suddenness of his proposed departure, and at the turn affairs had taken.
“Here’s cold hospitality,” quoth Dan of the Howlet-hirst to his comrades; “I trow the Glendinnings may die and come alive right oft, ere I put foot in stirrup again for the
