102 Life, Genius, and Personal Habits of Bewick. 
them, and called the reviser a fool. All this while he walked 
deliberately to and fro; but, on seeing this magnanimous 
exploit of my folly, he paused, and slowly (oh! the devil take 
his assumed slowness!) said, “* Measter Dovaston, ye ha’ ca’d 
him a fecol ye dinna ken; I only ax, if he were here, what 
might he ca’ you?” ie did, indeed, av me, and with an 
edge; for his just and gentle reproof was darted from one of 
hose significant eae, more severe than the bitterest anger. 
The young ladies were picking up the digecta membra of these 
unfortunate papers, and arranging them on the table, like the 
pieces of a child’s dissected map. ‘ Na, na,” said he, blow- 
ing them off at one fell puff, like Boreas in a snow storm ; 
“na, na; as the daft callant thinks himsel’ sae clever, let es 
e’en compose fresh copy ;” throwing a quire on the table, and 
an old stumpie of a pen he had been using as a pipe-cleaner : 
to which task I doggedly sat down, with the subdued feelings 
of a chid schoolboy, having occasional recourse to the accur sad 
scraps ; while, through the window, I saw the glorious old 
gentleman walking lustily down to the well, flourishing his 
cudgel, in all fie vigour of victory. My fair Northumbrian 
friends (alas! so many hundred miles remote from the hand 
now writing it) will ‘readily, on perusal, acknowledge the 
minute truth with which I have let off this little m/f; and 
will, I trust, bear testimony to the accuracy of all my anec- 
dotes; which, so far from needing any colour, or even sharp- 
ening, I am conscious appear best in their own native simpli- 
city, Sanka least adorned. Every body loved Bewick. All 
animals loved him ; and frequently, o mornings, I found him 
in the inn-yard, among the dogs, ducks, or pigs, the owing them 
pieces of biscuit, ig talking to them, or to the boors beside 
them, waiters, chay-boys, or boots. He would pat Rosalind 
on the neck, ask her how she liked her crazy master, and bid 
the ostler pre her a bucket of water. * She has had enough, 
Sir,” said he. ‘ Then bring her more,” said Bewick. He did 
so, and she drank part of it.“ There,” says he, “ she will na 
drink mair than her need, like you, or me, or my daft friend 
here.” 
Persons enamoured of Nature, though one of her volumi- 
nous treasures may for a while be the favourite, seldom con- 
fine their observance or admiration to that one exclusively ; 
but, in their eager pursuit after the main object of their enthu- 
siasm, glance oft aside on others of equal excitement or 
beauty, that, in time and turn, come to an equal share of regard 
and rapture. This was quite the case with Bewick, who, from 
infancy, had contemplated, with adoration, sites the sun 
illumined ; whether he lit up in serene splendour the ponder- 
