Tidings had arrived that Sir William, who had now been absent several years, might be expected home, as the king was restored and the royal party was now predominant.
This tidings created the liveliest sensations of joy among Sir William's tenantry, as he was much beloved for his kindness and generosity of disposition. Old Symon Scott and Glaude Anderson were especially delighted, and resolved, each of them, to celebrate the event with a feast. Symon however had already begun to make preparations for a banquet, to which he invited Glaude and all the old and young people of the neighborhood:
"It's Symon's house, please to step in,
And vissy't[31] round and round,
There's nought superfluous to gie pain,
Or costly to be found.
Yet a' is clean—a clear peat ingle[32]
Glances amidst the floor[33];
The green horn spoons, beech luggies[34] mingle
On skelfs[35] foregainst the door.
While the young brood sport on the green,
The auld anes think it best,
Wi' the brown cow[36] to clear their een
Snuff, crack and tak their rest."
While they are engaged Sir William appears among the young people on the green, in the garb of a fortune teller. Jenny runs into the house and tells her father, who, particularly good-natured and hospitable at such an hour, replies:—
"Gae bring him in; we'll hear what he can say,
Nane shall gae hungry by my house the day. [Exit Jenny.
But for his telling fortunes, troth I fear
He kens nae mair o' that than my grey mare.
Glaud.—Spae men![37] the truth o' a' their saws I doubt,
For greater lears never ran thereout.
[Jenny returns bringing in Sir William;—with them Patie.
Symon.—Ye're welcome honest carle, here take a seat.
Sir W.—I gie ye thanks, gudeman, I'se be no blate.[38]
Glaud.—Come, t'ye[39] frien. How far came ye the day?