He did not wholly obey me, for, though he no more addressed me directly, he very impudent sang at me as he went in a manner of innuendo, and with an exceedingly ill voice and ear -
"As Mally Lee cam doun the street, her capuchin did flee, She cuist a look ahint her to see her negligee. And we're a' gaun east and wast, we're a' gann ajee, We're a' gaun east and wast courtin' Mally Lee."
CHAPTER II - THE HIGHLAND WRITER
MR. CHARLES STEWART the Writer dwelt at the top of the longest stair ever mason set a hand to; fifteen flights of it, no less; and when I had come to his door, and a clerk had opened it, and told me his master was within, I had scarce breath enough to send my porter packing.
"Awa' east and west wi' ye!" said I, took the money bag out of his hands, and followed the clerk in.
The outer room was an office with the clerk's chair at a table spread with law papers. In the inner chamber, which opened from it, a little brisk man sat poring on a deed, from which he scarce raised his eyes on my entrance; indeed, he still kept his finger in the place, as though prepared to show me out and fall again to his studies. This pleased me little enough; and what pleased me less, I thought the clerk was in a good posture to overhear what should pass between us.
I asked if he was Mr. Charles Stewart the Writer.
"The same," says he; "and, if the question is equally fair, who may you be yourself?"