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courtiers, put off with fair promises, and in all his attempts to gain an audience of the king, he was baffled and thwarted. Having formed an intimacy as a musician, with the organist of the king’s chapel, he solicited, and obtained, as a special favour, permission to perform on the organ before his majesty, at the royal chapel. Cockpen exerted his talents to the utmost, thinking to attract the attention of Charles, but all his efforts were unavailing. On the conclusion of the service, instead of a common voluntary, in a fit of despair he struck up “Brose and Butter,” which no sooner caught the ears of the king than he flew to the organ-gallery. The regular organist, perceiving the vivid flashes of Charles’ eye, was seized with such a panic, that he fell on his knees and protested his innocence. “It was not me, please your majesty, it was not me!”———“You! you!” exclaimed the enraptured monarch, as he hastily passed him,——— “You never could play any thing like it in your life.” Then addressing his old associate in exile,——— “Odds fish, Cockpen! I thought you would have made me dance.”———“I could have danced to ‘Brose and Butter,’ once with a light heart too,” replied the performer,” ———but my adherence to your majesty’s interest has bereft me of the lands of Cockpen.”———“You shall dance,” said Charles,——— “You shall dance, and be the laird of Cockpen yet.”——— Accordingly the laird was immediately put in possession of his inheritance.
CURE FOR A CRIPPLE.
It happened on a Sunday evening, about thirty years ago, that two sheep-stealers had meditated
