NORTHERN MEMOIRS. 135 



lean o're the verge of a river, facing the moun- 

 tains. The houses, it's true, are built with stone, 

 but then to consider them low and little, it plain- 

 ly demonstrates there's nothing eminent but nar- 

 row streets, and dirty houses ; a convincing ar- 

 gument there's no scavengers amongst them. 

 And for their houswifery, let that alone ; for if 

 you touch it, you sully your fingers. There is 

 a market-place, such an one as it is ; but as for 

 merchants, there's no such thing in nature. But 

 a palace there is, and a cathedral too, otherwise 

 Dumblain had nothing to boast of. 



But there is one thing remarkable, and that's 

 the house of Domine Caudwel (a formal peda- 

 gogue) that absolv'd the thief, and conceal'd the 

 theft, so lost his breeches ; for you must know, 

 the good woman his wife was a notable comer, 

 one of the first magnitude ; who, with two more 

 of her consorts, (as I was told, at a four hour's 

 drinking,) guzled down as much ale and bran- 

 dy, wine and strong waters, as amounted to the 

 sum of forty pound Scots. But wanting money 

 to pay her reckoning, she liberally pawned her 

 husband's breeches ; and he, like a fop, to redeem 

 his wife's reputation, would never redeem his 

 breeches, lest suspecting they should smell of 

 the tears of the tankerd. And here, as reported, 

 was celebrated that famous union of Doh and 



