who sat at the upper end, was one cawdie Fraser, a veteran pimp, distinguished for his humour and sagacity, well known and much respected in his profession by all the guests, male and female, that were here assembled. He had bespoke the dinner and the wine; he had taken care that all his brethren should appear in decent apparel and clean linen; and he himself wore a periwig with three tails, in honour of the festival. I assure you the banquet was both elegant and plentiful, and seasoned with a thousand sallies, that promoted a general spirit of mirth and good humour. After the dessert, Mr. Fraser proposed the following toasts, which I don’t pretend to explain. ‘The best in Christendom.’ ‘Gibb’s contract.’ ‘The beggar’s benison.’ ‘King and kirk.’ ‘Great-Britain and Ireland.’ Then filling a bumper, and turning to me, ‘Mester Malford (said he), may a’ unkindness cease betwixt John Bull and his sister Moggy.’ The next person he singled out, was a nobleman who had been long abroad. ‘Ma lord (cried Fraser), here’s a bumper to a’ those noblemen who have virtue enough to spend their rents in their ain countray.’ He afterwards addressed himself to a member of parliament in these words: ‘Mester —, I’m sure ye’ll ha nae objection to my drinking, Disgrace and dule to ilka Scot, that sells his conscience and his vote.’ He discharged a third sarcasm at a person very gaily dressed, who had risen from small beginnings, and made a considerable fortune at play. Filling his glass, and calling him by name, ‘Lang life (said he) to the wylie loon that gangs a-field with a toom poke at his lunzie, and comes hame with a sackful of siller.’ All these toasts being received with loud bursts of applause, Mr. Fraser called for pint glasses, and filled his own to the brim: then standing up, and all his brethren following his example, ‘Ma lords and gentlemen (cried he), here is a cup of thanks for the great and undeserved honour you have done your poor errand-boys this day.’ So saying, he and they drank off their glasses in a trice, and, quitting their seats, took their station each behind one of the other guests; exclaiming, ‘Noo we’re your honours’ cawdies again.’
The nobleman who had bore the first brunt of Mr. Fraser’s satire, objected to his abdication. He said, as the company was assembled by invitation from the cawdies, he expected they were to be entertained at their expence. ‘By no means, my lord (cried Fraser), I wad na be guilty of sic presumption for the wide warld. I never affronted a gentleman since I was born; and sure at this age, I wonnot offer an indignity to sic an honourable convention.’ ‘Well (said his lordship), as you have expended some wit, you have a right to save your money. You have given me good counsel, and I take it in good part. As you have voluntarily quitted your seat, I will take your place with the leave of the good company, and think myself happy to be hailed, Father of the Feast.’ He was forthwith elected into the chair, and complimented in a bumper in his new character.
The claret continued to circulate without interruption, till the glasses seemed to dance upon the table, and this, perhaps, was a hint to the ladies to call for music. At eight in the evening the ball began in another apartment: at midnight we went to supper, but it was broad day before I found the way to my lodgings; and, no doubt, his lordship had a swinging bill to discharge.
In short, I have lived so riotously for some weeks, that my uncle begins to be alarmed on the score of my constitution, and very seriously observes, that all his own infirmities are owing to such excesses indulged in his youth. Mrs. Tabitha says it would be more for the advantage of my soul as well as body, if instead of frequenting these scenes of debauchery, I would accompany Mr. Moffat and her to hear a sermon of the reverend Mr. M‘Corkindale. Clinker often exhorts me, with a groan, to take care of my precious health; and even Archy M‘Alpine, when he happens to be overtaken (which is oftener the case than I could wish), reads me a long lecture upon temperance and sobriety; and is so very wise and sententious, that, if I could provide him with a professor’s chair, I would willingly give up the benefit of his admonitions and service together; for I was tutor-sick at alma mater.
I am not, however, so much engrossed by the gaieties of Edinburgh, but that I find time to make parties in the family way. We have not only seen all the villas and villages within ten miles of the capital, but we have also crossed the Firth, which is an arm of the sea seven miles broad, that divides Lothian from the shire, or, as the Scots call it, the kingdom of Fife. There is a number of large open sea-boats that ply on this passage from Leith to Kinghorn, which is a borough on the other side. In one of these our whole family embarked three days ago, excepting my sister, who, being exceedingly fearful of the water,