sleeves, showing a scarlet lining; the other parts of the dress corresponded in colour, not forgetting a pair of scarlet stockings, and a scarlet bonnet, proudly surmounted with a turkey’s feather.  Edward, whom he did not seem to observe, now perceived confirmation in his features of what the mien and gestures had already announced.  It was apparently neither idiocy nor insanity which gave that wild, unsettled, irregular expression to a face which naturally was rather handsome, but something that resembled a compound of both, where the simplicity of the fool was mixed with the extravagance of a crazed imagination.  He sung with great earnestness, and not without some taste, a fragment of an old Scottish ditty:—­

    False love, and hast thou play’d me this
    In summer among the flowers? 
    I will repay thee back again
    In winter among the showers. 
    Unless again, again, my love,
    Unless you turn again;
    As you with other maidens rove,
    I’ll smile on other men.

[Footnote:  This is a genuine ancient fragment, with some alteration in the two last lines.]

Here lifting up his eyes, which had hitherto been fixed in observing how his feet kept time to the tune, he beheld Waverley, and instantly doffed his cap, with many grotesque signals of surprise, respect, and salutation.  Edward, though with little hope of receiving an answer to any constant question, requested to know whether Mr. Bradwardine were at home, or where he could find any of the domestics.  The questioned party replied, and, like the witch of Thalaba, ’still his speech was song,’—­

    The Knight’s to the mountain
    His bugle to wind;
    The Lady’s to greenwood
    Her garland to bind. 
    The bower of Burd Ellen
    Has moss on the floor,
    That the step of Lord William
    Be silent and sure.

This conveyed no information, and Edward, repeating his queries, received a rapid answer, in which, from the haste and peculiarity of the dialect, the word ‘butler’ was alone intelligible.  Waverley then requested to see the butler; upon which the fellow, with a knowing look and nod of intelligence, made a signal to Edward to follow, and began to dance and caper down the alley up which he had made his approaches.  A strange guide this, thought Edward, and not much unlike one of Shakespeare’s roynish clowns.  I am not over prudent to trust to his pilotage; but wiser men have been led by fools.  By this time he reached the bottom of the alley, where, turning short on a little parterre of flowers, shrouded from the east and north by a close yew hedge, he found an old man at work without his coat, whose appearance hovered between that of an upper servant and gardener; his red nose and ruffled shirt belonging to the former profession; his hale and sunburnt visage, with his green apron, appearing to indicate

    Old Adam’s likeness, set to dress this garden.