as a bagpipe!—Ah! such a song would have been invaluable to the Asinæum, when I had the honour to—"
"Be Vicar of Bray to that establishment," interrupted Tomlinson. "Pray, Mac Grawler, why do they call Edinburgh the modern Athens?"
"Because of the learned and great men it produces," returned Mac Grawler with conscious pride.
"Pooh! pooh!—you are thinking of ancient Athens. Your city is called the modern Athens, because you are all so like the modern Athenians,—the damnedst scoundrels imaginable, unless travellers belie them."
"Nay," interrupted Ned, who was softened by the applause of the Critic, "Mac is a good fellow, spare him. Gentlemen, your health. I am going to bed, and I suppose you will not tarry long behind me."
"Trust us for that," answered Tomlinson; "the Captain and I will consult on the business of the morrow, and join you in the twinkling of a bedpost, as it has been shrewdly expressed."
Ned yawned his last "good night," and disappeared within the dormitory. Mac Grawler
