That has always a great
effect upon the English, whose feudal notions are rather of the
mistiest, and principally derived from Waverley."
"Why not write yourself down as the laird of M'Corkindale?" said I. "I
dare say you would not be negatived by a counter-claim."
"That would hardly do," replied Bob, "as I intend to be secretary. After
all, what's the use of thinking about it? Here goes for an extempore
chief;" and the villain wrote down the name of Tavish M'Tavish of
Invertavish.
"I say, though," said I, "we must have a real Highlander on the list. If
we go on this way, it will become a justiciary matter."
"You're devilish scrupulous, Gus," said Bob, who, if left to himself,
would have stuck in the names of the heathen gods and goddesses, or
borrowed his directors from the Ossianic chronicles, rather than have
delayed the prospectus. "Where the mischief are we to find the men? I
can think of no others likely to go the whole hog; can you?"
"I don't know a single Celt in Glasgow except old M'Closkie, the drunken
porter at the corner of Jamaica Street."
"He's the very man! I suppose, after the manner of his tribe, he will
do anything for a pint of whisky.
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