Anonymous.
WE left Caleb Balderstone in the extremity of triumph at the success of
his various achievements for the honour of the house of Ravenswood. When
he had mustered and marshalled his dishes of divers kinds, a more royal
provision had not been seen in Wolf's Crag since the funeral feast
of its deceased lord. Great was the glory of the serving-man, as he
"decored" the old oaken table with a clean cloth, and arranged upon it
carbonaded venison and roasted wild-fowl, with a glance, every now and
then, as if to upbraid the incredulity of his master and his guests; and
with many a story, more or less true, was Lockhard that evening regaled
concerning the ancient grandeur of Wolf's Crag, and the sway of its
barons over the country in their neighbourhood.
"A vassal scarce held a calf or a lamb his ain, till he had first
asked if the Lord of Ravenswood was pleased to accept it; and they were
obliged to ask the lord's consent before they married in these days,
and mony a merry tale they tell about that right as weel as others. And
although," said Caleb, "these times are not like the gude auld times,
when authority had its right, yet true it is, Mr.
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