A SCOTCH KEEL. 
69 
determined to make a night of it, but without the 
wherewithal. There were neither knockers to steal, 
nor watchmen to bonnet. At last we remembered 
that the apothecary’s wife had a conversazione, to 
which she had kindly invited us; and accordingly, 
off we went to her house. Here we found a number 
of French officers, a piano, and a young lady; in con¬ 
sequence of which the drum soon became a ball. 
Finally, it was proposed we should dance a reel; the 
second lieutenant of the “Artemise” had once seen one 
when his ship was riding out a gale in the Clyde;— 
the little lady had frequently studied a picture of the 
Highland fling on the outside of a copy of Scotch 
music;—I could dance a jig—the set was complete, 
all we wanted was the music. Luckily the lady of 
the house knew the song of “ Annie Laurie,”—played 
fast it made an excellent reel tune. As you may 
suppose, all succeeded admirably; we nearly died of 
laughing, and I only wish Lord Breadalbane had been 
by to see. 
At one in the morning, our danseuse retiring to rest, 
the ball necessarily terminated; but the Governor’s 
dinner still forbidding bed, we determined on a sail in 
