Send round the wine like winking:
The liquor's free,
And so are we—
Hurrah! for jolly drinking!"
Thus, from night to morn the carouse continued, and each returning sun was the signal for its repetition. There was but a choice of evils for the ground-floor tenant—to remain where he was, and be killed by the inch, or rather, by the foot, or pay a se'nnight's rent for a night's lodging—which would have despatched him at once. All day did the miserable meal-man seek his hopeful, with sorrow, and no success, and all night (truth compels the confession) over the sire's head did the son perform the dance of death. A shocking bad life was "Sandie" leading: both the elder and the younger Scot were pursuing the M.D. after a fashion Maximé Deflendum. The week ended, leaving the Glasgow magistrate with just enough of life to assist him back to the Candleriggs. A trusty friend in the Great Metropolis, however, was commissioned to discover the retreat of the prodigal, and compass his restoration to the disconsolate parent. After a time, and a rigid stoppage of supplies, this was effected; and Macalister Mucklescratch's career of dissipation ended, as many a similar course has terminated, in his being sent to the Old Baillie!
Far north as he was born, the ancient Scot had a warm heart. Kindness worked its accustomed office; and it was not long before the prodigal son became the pride and comfort of his father's house. A pleasant thing it is to see the pair seated together, and hear the old man, with glistening eyes, repeat his especial bon mot. "Eh, Sandie, my lad, when you and I were practising 'ABOVE' 'BELOW,' wha would ha' thought it would have ended in
'All's Well!'"
V.
Tom Gad, for a lark, attempts Hyde Park,