 he always claimed, and seemed to receive as his due. He
sung a good song, told a good story, and could crack a severe jest with all the
acumen of Shakspeare's jesters, though without using, like them, the cloak of
insanity. It was some fear of Andrew's satire, as much as a feeling of kindness
or charity, which secured him the general good reception which he enjoyed
everywhere. In fact, a jest of Andrew Gemmells, especially at the expense of a
person of consequence, flew round the circle which he frequented, as surely as
the bon-mot of a man of established character for wit glides through the
fashionable world. Many of his good things are held in remembrance, but are
generally too local and personal to be introduced here.
    Andrew had a character peculiar to himself among his tribe for aught I ever
heard. He was ready and willing to play at cards or dice with any one who
desired such amusement. This was more in the character of the Irish itinerant
gambler, called in that country a carrot, than of the Scottish beggar. But the
late Reverend Doctor Robert Douglas, minister of Galashiels, assured the author,
that the last time he saw Andrew Gemmells, he was engaged in a game at brag with
a gentleman of fortune, distinction, and birth. To preserve the due gradations
of rank, the party was made at an open window of the chateau, the laird sitting
on his chair in the inside, the beggar on a stool in the yard; and they played
on the window-sill. The stake was a considerable parcel of silver. The author
expressing some surprise, Dr. Douglas observed, that the laird was no doubt a
humourist or original; but that many decent persons in those times would, like
him, have thought there was nothing extraordinary in passing an hour, either in
card-playing or conversation, with Andrew Gemmells.
    This singular mendicant had generally, or was supposed to have, as much
money about his person, as would have been thought the value of his life among
modern foot-pads. On one occasion, a country gentleman, generally esteemed a
very narrow man, happening to meet Andrew, expressed great regret that he had no
silver in his pocket, or he would have given him sixpence: - »I can give you
change for a note, laird,« replied Andrew.
    Like most who have arisen to the head of their profession, the modern
degradation which mendicity has undergone was often the subject of Andrew's
lamentations. As a trade, he said,
