Before Dr. Johnson came to breakfast, Lady Lochbuy said, ’he was a dungeon of wit;’ a very common phrase in Scotland to express a profoundness of intellect, though he afterwards told me, that he never had heard it.  She proposed that he should have some cold sheep’s-head for breakfast.  Sir Allan seemed displeased at his sister’s vulgarity, and wondered how such a thought should come into her head.  From a mischievous love of sport, I took the lady’s part; and very gravely said, ’I think it is but fair to give him an offer of it.  If he does not choose it, he may let it alone.’  ‘I think so,’ said the lady, looking at her brother with an air of victory.  Sir Allan, finding the matter desperate, strutted about the room, and took snuff.  When Dr. Johnson came in, she called to him, ‘Do you choose any cold sheep’s-head, Sir?’ ‘No, MADAM,’ said he, with a tone of surprise and anger[917].  ’It is here, Sir,’ said she, supposing he had refused it to save the trouble of bringing it in.  They thus went on at cross purposes, till he confirmed his refusal in a manner not to be misunderstood; while I sat quietly by, and enjoyed my success.

After breakfast, we surveyed the old castle, in the pit or dungeon of which Lochbuy had some years before taken upon him to imprison several persons[918]; and though he had been fined in a considerable sum by the Court of Justiciary, he was so little affected by it, that while we were examining the dungeon, he said to me, with a smile, ’Your father knows something of this;’ (alluding to my father’s having sat as one of the judges on his trial.) Sir Allan whispered me, that the laird could not be persuaded that he had lost his heritable jurisdiction[919].

We then set out for the ferry, by which we were to cross to the main land of Argyleshire.  Lochbuy and Sir Allan accompanied us.  We were told much of a war-saddle, on which this reputed Don Quixote used to be mounted; but we did not see it, for the young laird had applied it to a less noble purpose, having taken it to Falkirk fair with a drove of black cattle. We bade adieu to Lochbuy, and to our very kind conductor[920], Sir Allan M’Lean, on the shore of Mull, and then got into the ferry-boat, the bottom of which was strewed with branches of trees or bushes, upon which we sat.  We had a good day and a fine passage, and in the evening landed at Oban, where we found a tolerable inn.  After having been so long confined at different times in islands, from which it was always uncertain when we could get away, it was comfortable to be now on the mainland, and to know that, if in health, we might get to any place in Scotland or England in a certain number of days.

Here we discovered from the conjectures which were formed, that the people on the main land were entirely ignorant of our motions; for in a Glasgow newspaper we found a paragraph, which, as it contains a just and well-turned compliment to my illustrious friend, I shall here insert:—­