It was a fine April morning (excepting that it had snowed hard the night before, and the groundremained covered with a dazzling mantle of six inches in depth) when two horsemen rode up to theWallace Inn. The first was a strong, tall, powerful man, in a grey riding-coat, having a hat coveredwith waxcloth, a huge silver-mounted horsewhip, boots, and dreadnought overalls. He was mountedon a large strong brown mare, rough in coat, but well in condition, with a saddle of the yeomanrycut, and a double-bitted military bridle. The man who accompanied him was apparently his servant;he rode a shaggy little grey pony, had a blue bonnet on his head, and a large check napkin foldedabout his neck, wore a pair of long blue worsted hose instead of boots, had his gloveless handsmuch stained with tar, and observed an air of deference and respect towards his companion, butwithout any of those indications of precedence and punctilio which are preserved between thegentry and their domestics. On the contrary, the two travellers entered the court-yard abreast, andthe concluding sentence of the conversation which had been carrying on betwixt them was a jointejaculation, "Lord guide us, an this weather last, what will come o' the lambs!" The hint wassufficient for my Landlord, who, advancing to take the horse of the principal person, and holdinghim by the reins as he dismounted, while his ostler rendered the same service to the attendant, welcomed the stranger to Gandercleugh, and, in the same breath, enquired, "What news from thesouth hielands?""News?" said the farmer, "bad eneugh news, I think;-an we can carry through the yowes, it willbe a' we can do; we maun e'en leave the lambs to the Black Dwarfs care.""Ay, ay," subjoined the old shepherd (for such he was), shaking his head, "he'll be unco busyamang the morts this season.""The Black Dwarf!" said MY LEARNED FRIEND AND PATRON, Mr. JedediahCleishbotham, "and what sort of a personage may he be?"[We have, in this and other instances, printed in italics (CAPITALS in this etext) some few wordswhich the worthy editor, Mr. Jedediah Cleishbotham, seems to have interpolated upon the text ofhis deceased friend, Mr. Pattieson. We must observe, once for all, that such liberties seem only tohave been taken by the learned gentleman where his own character and conduct are concerned; andsurely he must be the best judge of the style in which his own character and conduct should betreated of.]"Hout awa, man," answered the farmer, "ye'll hae heard o' Canny Elshie the Black Dwarf, or I ammuckle mistaen-A' the warld tells tales about him, but it's but daft nonsense after a'-I dinnabelieve a word o't frae beginning to end.""Your father believed it unco stievely, though," said the old man, to whom the scepticism of hismaster gave obvious displeasure