The Doctor has been minting to me that there is an address from Irvine to

the queen; and he, being so near a neighbour to your toun, has been

thinking to pay his respecs with it, to see her near at hand. But I will

say nothing; he may take his own way in matters of gospel and

spiritualety; yet I have my scroopols of conshence, how this may not turn

out a rebellyon against the king; and I would hav him to sift and see who

are at the address, before he pits his han to it. For, if it's a radikol

job, as I jealoos it is, what will the Doctor then say? who is an

orthodox man, as the world nose.

In the maitre of our dumesticks, no new axsident has cast up; but I have

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seen such a wonder as could not have been forethocht. Having a washin, I

went down to see how the lassies were doing; but judge of my feelings,

when I saw them triomphing on the top of pattons, standing upright before

the boyns on chairs, rubbin the clothes to juggins between their hands,

above the sapples, with their gouns and stays on, and round-cared

mutches. What would you think of such a miracle at the washing-house in

the Goffields, or the Gallows-knows of Irvine? The cook, howsomever, has

shown me a way to make rice-puddings without eggs, by putting in a bit of

shoohet, which is as good--and this you will tell Miss Nanny Eydent;

likewise, that the most fashionable way of boiling green pis, is to pit a

blade of spearmint in the pot, which gives a fine flavour. But this is a

long letter, and my pepper is done; so no more, but remains your friend

and well-wisher, JANET PRINGLE.

"A great legacy, and her dochtir married, in ae journey to London, is

doing business," said Mrs. Glibbans, with a sigh, as she looked to her

only get, Miss Becky; "but the Lord's will is to be done in a'

thing;--sooner or later something of the same kind will come, I trust, to

all our families." "Ay," replied Miss Mally Glencairn, "marriage is like

death--it's what we are a' to come to."

"I have my doubts of that," said Miss Becky with a sneer. "Ye have been

lang spair't from it, Miss Mally."

"Ye're a spiteful puddock; and if the men hae the e'en and lugs they used

to hae, gude pity him whose lot is cast with thine, Becky Glibbans,"

replied the elderly maiden ornament of the Kirkgate, somewhat tartly.