* * * * *
Chapter the Fourteenth.
Nay, let me have the friends who eat my victuals,
As various as my dishes.--The feast's naught,
Where one huge plate predominates. John Plaintext,
He shall be mighty beef, our English staple;
The worthy Alderman, a butter'd dumpling;
Yon pair of whisker'd Cornets, ruffs and rees:
Their friend the Dandy, a green goose in sippets.
And so the hoard is spread at once and fill'd
On the same principle--Variety.
NEW PLAY.
"And what brave lass is this?" said Hob Miller, as Mary Avenel entered
the apartment to supply the absence of Dame Elspeth Glendinning.
"The young Lady of Avenel, father," said the Maid of the Mill,
dropping as low a curtsy as her rustic manners enabled her to make.
The Miller, her father, doffed his bonnet, and made his reverence, not
altogether so low perhaps as if the young lady had appeared in the
pride of rank and riches, yet so as to give high birth the due homage
which the Scotch for a length of time scrupulously rendered to it.
Indeed, from having had her mother's example before her for so many
years, and from a native sense of propriety and even of dignity, Mary
Avenel had acquired a demeanour, which marked her title to
consideration, and effectually checked any attempt at familiarity on
the part of those who might be her associates in her present
situation, but could not be well termed her equals.
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