IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) 1.0 I.I .25 m IIIIIM m IIIIIM 112.2 iU " ' m ZO III™ lA IIIIII.6 v:

o^ #^ % V 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. 14S80 (716) 872-4503 C^ ,The air of Speyside dangerously exhilarating. — Engage- ments and interviews in i)rosi)ect. — Masterly retreat upon Bennachie. — Mountain dew, rather than moun- tain air responsible for some things CHxS.PTER XVT. PAGE i:]0 OTHER SILLERTON AMUSEMENTS : THE SOCIETY OP GARDENERS. Moralizing. — Members of kirk session and scribes and Pharisees tarred with the same stick. — Annual fair a general holiday. — Meeting of the Gardeners ditto. — No benefit society. — Surplus cash goes to stomach ac- count. — Oldmeldruni brass band a grand feature of the day. — Brigadier-General Sourie and his outfit. — Parade in the square. — March to Sillerton House. — Floral designs and prizes. — Annual dinner balances the account. — Pretty's love of good clieer. — The vil- lage wags get a finger in the pie, and Protty dines again on sweetened turnips 145 CHAPTER XVn. THE WARS OF THE ROSES. Wars without bloodshed. — Friendly competition be- tween rival floriculturists. — The Sillerton boys backed their favorites with flowers. — General Hay's garden yields an almost inexhaustiblo supply of flowers, but especially of roses. — The General sketched. — His queue the last one in the parish. — How he got promotion ... 157 CHAPTER XVIII. PRACTICAL JOKERS AT WORK. The village shop, or store.— Baggs a man of enterprise. — A large consignment arrives of foot-gear of all sorts, shapes and sizes. — Contract made for a supply for a zu CONTENTS. PAOB year for a specified sum.— Some conditions of the contract.— When contracting parties sign the docu- ment, the laugh decidedly on the merchant's side. — Indications of weakness in the boots the first Satur- day night. — The second Saturday heavy repaira ordered. — Every Saturday night brings misery to Baggs, and fun to Baggs' assembled customers. — The wind changes, and the laugli now decidedly on the other side. — Baggs almost distracted, and at last the happiest man in Sillerton when the boot contract comes to a close. — Profit and loss not reported. —Boot supposed to be on the wrong leg 166 CHAPTER XIX. THE WINNING LEO. The Inverurie markets again. — The usual cavalcade that rode so demurely to the ancient bugh. — The ride home not quite so demure. — Probable cause dis- cussed. — The Sillertonians meet at the same hostelry before mounting. — Tlie unfailing stirrup-cup. — Mine host puts money on his own leg. — Little Sim Edwards accepts the challenge. — The tape applied. — The small man wins by at least twt- inches. — Ledingham stands the bottle of hot Scotch. — Curiosity excited and in- quiries made. — The winner owns that the dregs of fever gave him the "drop" on his rival. — The other leg a spindleshank. — The story gets wind. — Leding- ham gets dangerous.— Silence in this case the winning card 172 CHAPTER XX. THE minister's CHRISTMAS DINNER. The Rev. Robert Fordyce not a practical joker. — Re- ceives and accepts an invitation to a Ch-istmas dinner. — John Sprot, the parson's man, a necessary unit in CONTENTS. XUl PAHE the story. — Jchn's proclivities and temptations, with usual consequences. — A new leaf turned over, and cure considered permanent. — Renovation of hoi-se and gig successfully accomplished. — Interruptions by a threatened duel. — Becomes peacemaker, but with de- plorable consequences. — Horse, gig and '.^an brought to manse door. — Sprot's position not considered "orthodox." — Carriage declined without thanks. — The Rev. Robert dines that day at home. — Sprot im- mortalized in song 179 CHAPTER XXI. sillerton's burdens. A " crook in every lot." — Feel Jamie put in the witness box. — The Feel no exception. — A Irostile bubbly-jock leads him asair life. — Sillerton's terrible bubbly-jock. — Silver nest-eggs rare in the parish. — The game laws. — Tenants comijelled to love their worst enemies. — Sillerton one grand " game preserve." — A few facts about game. — Nearly as tame as cattle, or barn-yard fowls. — Thirty thousand rabbits killed in one year without affording relief. — Tenants powerless to pro- tect themselves. — Financial ruin too often the result. — Things changed now. — Living witnesses challenged. — A gravestone as it should be 190 CHAPTER XXII. NON-INTRUSION.— THE NIGHT BEFORE THE BATTLE. Church troubles in Scotland generally, and in the Garioch particularly. — Excitement among Sillerton church- men at zero, among Sillerton Liitinists it reaches 212 degrees. — Ecclesiastical murmurs become material- ized. — Presentee to the parish of Culsalmond not ix)pu- lar. — Feeling out of the parish and in it. — Day of settlement appointed. — General excitement. — Two XIV CONTENTS. P I PAGE Latiniots start to witness the expected fray and spend the niyht before the battle in the village of Old Rayne. — Disputations all round. — A transition from history to romance. — Facts go down like ninepins and brass ''bears the bell." — The enemy in full retreat. — We sleep the sleep of tlie .... no, the sleep of the weary 203 CHAPTER XXIII. THE CULSALMOND RIOT. Cold tramp to the parish church. — Men from all corners of the Garioch bound for the same place. — Scotch foresight and creature comforts. — The hour approaches and hundreds press vound the church doors to prevent the entry of the clergy. — An insinu- ating constable turns the key. — A liuman "crevasse." — Pei-sonal experiences. — A leap for life. — A veritable pandemonium, — Presbytery withdraws. — Induction conducted in the manse. — Scenes in the church. — Fears that the clergy might return.— The crowd hold the fort. — Members of the Presbytery slip away homewards. — By-and-by rioters also disperse. — The Rev. Robert Fordyce very reticent about the events of the day. — A jocular parishioner draws the badger, and the Rev. Robert for once loses his temper. — One minister chased, but wins the race. — Poetic effusions. — Culsalmond psalms still in existence. — Authorship unknoy/n.'-^Stat noniinis umbra 212 CHAPTER XXIV. LAST DAYS AT SCHOOL. Unremitting school grind. — Preparing for the compe- tion at one of the colleges. — No cribs in those days except hard work and self-denial. — Teacher enthusi- astic and pupils sympathetic. — No royal road to us.— CONTENTS. XV PAGE The mental pap we had to masticate. — A lion in the way. — Teachers equal to the occasion.— Quarantine established. — A clean bill of health. — Melvin's Gram- mar booming, Thaddeus of Warsaw below par. — Other disturbing but secret influences. — Old Aberdeen Grammar School. — Belief that mysuccesHut the com- petition is my only key to college. — Anxiety thereby deepened. — Father has two strings to his bow. — Mid- night oil burned wholesale. — The final polish applied. — Teacher's book closed. — Hopes of victory. — Adieu.. 326 CHAPTER XXV. CONCLUSION.— THE COMPETITION AND THE GOWN. One hundred and fifty competitors in the great hall of King's College. — Competition open to all. — First day's work. — Second day's work. — Short sketches of profes- sors. — Interval between competition and announce- ment of prizemen a very anxious time. — Intermediate pondering and probabilities. — Sonu» lost their heads, — Coolness in my case excluded maxies. — Declaration day dawns. — Crowds, including Sillertonians, in the college hall. — Professors in high i)laces. — Blind old Principal Jack presides. — The sacrist an)oth purposes, I cannot now well say, but yet the color and pattern are as well stamped upon memory's page as if I had worn the garment but yesterday. And yet sixty years, more or less, make a long telescope through which an old man observes a pina- foie that he wore when his wavy locks hung in ringlets over his shoulders. Sixty years, more or less, did I say? Ah! certainly, not less, not less. I like truth under any circumstances, although II I ! e 8C0TTI8U FOLKLORE. sometimes it may be a bitter pill to swallow, when swallowing is in order. But then, what of more ? Well, I feel compara- tively young still. Let me hear the whirr of a hard- wood partridge amongst the maple branches in the dear month of October, and then what eye is brighter, what foot is fleeter, than mine? Let a north shore salmon, fresh from the icy seas of Lab- rador, get upon my line, and is it a feeble hand that guides him through swirl and pool to a quiet corner, or a feeble voice that joins in the joyous whoop that my Indian gives as he lays the glittering beauty on the pebbly shore ? But yet the silken ringlets went long ago, when my mother, with tears coursing down her cheeks, Cut them all away, and selected only one to fill that locket that has hung unworn now for nearly fifty years. But there are curls yet; alas! not every- where, but yet in fair abundance, and with a few threads of silver amongst them, and making them look just as if a spiinkling of snowflakes had touched them gently amidst the frolics of the Christ- mas time. Not less then, but say more. But writing of snowflakes reminds me of the first time that any one seemed to notice that Father Time had taken liberties with me. A daughter who had spent a few years in a foreign land, and who never :?' m t« MY PINAFORE. failed to break down when the choir of the church where she worshipped sung Payne's beautiful hymn, " Home, Sweet Home ! " sent us unexpected tidings of an intended visit. The wintry morning was bit- terly cold ; the loud whistle of the approaching train had, a few minutes before, intimated its arrival ; the old flag was run up to the mast-head ; the merry jingUng of sleigh-bells was heard, and our long absent one was soon folded in our arms. There were no dry eyes there, for do they not overflow both at the touch of joy as well as of sorrow ? Looking at me through her blinding tears, she said, suiting the action to the word, " Father, let me brush tlie snow away from your beard." " Ah, Janie, that snow can never be brushed away. It is God's harbinger of the winter of age. It has come to stay." To return to my pinafore. I cannot describe ex- actly the pattern, yet I could swear to it among a thousand. Like the " willow " pattern on our own dinner sets, so the " pinafore " pattern must have come down to us for many generations, and for aught that I know very probably suggested the idea to the artist who had the honor of designing the Star- spangled Banner. Why I so clearly recollect that pinafore I have an idea. There seems to be, at 1 8 SCOTTISH FOLKLORE. Ill times, small hooks that pin tilings firmly to memory, and there was one in this instance. It was a beautiful Sunday morning in spring. We were all dressed accordingly. Accordingly means ready for church, the service in which commenced in those days at the very reasonable hour of noon. Father had arrived from a distance the night before, and had brought small presents for the little ones. Mine was a somewhat peculiar imitation watch, not in nickel or tin, as nowadays, but in some species of delfware that shone like old gold. With this stuck in a pocket put in my new pinafore evidently f r the occasion, I strolled out to the churchyard, which lay just behind the village, my object being to gather a bouquet of gowans, and to enjoy myself generally — that is, with such decorum as the Sabbath, or at least Scottish parents, demanded of little folks in Scotland in those days. Wandering among the grassy mounds that marked the places where *' The rude forefatlu'i-s of the hamlet slept," and gathering my l)ouquet of daisies and primroses, 1 found myself at the low window of the cobbler's shop which looked out upon the churchyard. I had never looked in at that window bef«»re. Out of it I had often looked, for Sandy Simms, the viU i MY PINAFORE. 9 lage shoemaker, and I, notwithstanding the dis- parity of ages, were good friends. Sjindy loved to tell a good story, and to hear one us well, and when the hobbledehoys came to have their shoes patched, or to get irons fastened upon the toes of their heavy boots in preparation for a game of football, for which pastime the village boys of Sillerton were famous over at least a dozen parishes, Sandy's tongue and rozetty ends kept good time together. What the forte was that charmed the rustics I cannot now remember ; there must, however, have been no small art displayed, seeing that the souter's shop almost rivalled the blacksmith's smithy, while we little folks, if we did not quite understand the gist of all we heard, yet never failed to show unbounded de- light, by opening not only ears, but also eyes and mouth, at the souter's eloquence. Personally, then, if, indeed, an urchin of my years could lay claim to a distinct and separate personality, I owed Sandy no grudge. His tongue had never suggested to me that it was time for small boys to be jogging home- wards, nor had his elison ever expedited my move- ments in that direction. On the other hand the genial souter had been kindness itself personified. What then could have prompted me to do any- thing to hurt the feelings or property of my friend I am unable to say. That I should at that moment, 10 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE. i^ in that quiet churcliyard, on that calm and beauti- ful Sunday morning, draw out of my pocket that newly-acquired watch and with it coolly and de- liberately, as if from malice prepense, break a pane of glass in the cobbler's window, has proved to be a problem as hard of solution as the squaring of the circle has been to the long- baffled mathematician. Was it the result of pride in the possession of that spurious imitation of a timekeeper; did convenience snug stir up the treacherous inclination; or was it possible that the very deil himself whispered in the ear of my heart to prove my manhood by breaking the window of the souter's workshop? I need not say how soon remorse came. I felt that day in church as if I had not merely broken a pane of glass, but as if I had murdered the souter himself. I could scarcely say my short prayer that night, and for days after, my punishment was almost greater than T could bear. Oh ! dear Tom Hood ! you must, when a boy, have cracked some friendly cob- bler's window unprovoked, else never could you have written these lines — ■■I " O Heaven ! to think of their white souls, And mine so black and grim 1 I could not share in childish prayer, Nor join in evening hymn : Like a Devil of the Pit I seem'd 'Mid holy Cherubim !" MY PINAFORE. For months after I would have walked a Scotch mile rather than pass that wretched window with the patched pane of glass in it, and I never had the courage to enter Sandy's workshop again. Alas! it is conscience that niakes cowards of us all. What wonder then was it that my little ears ceased to listen to the old stories that T had so often heard he- fore from the eloquent lips of the kindly soutei", or that I had never forgotten the blue pinafore that I iiad worn on that eventful and sadly-to-be-lamented Sunday morning? f 12 iSCOTTISH FOLK-LOBE. % CHAPTER II. SILLERTON AND ITS SURROUNDINGS. How Still the morning of the hallowed day; Mute is the voice of rural labor ; hushed The plougliboy's whistle and the uiilkniaid's song. — Grahame. SiLLERTON, after nil, was a strange name for a quiet, impecunious village, or rather quiet country parish. In fact the godfathers and godmothers of that ilk must have l-een wags in their way, and given the name on the Lucns a non lucendo princi- ple, for siller did not lie about promiscuously in the village, or in the parish either. It is true that tliere were considerable operations in timber carried on in the neighborhood, but these, beyond giving a miserable wage to a few men, filled the pockets of the laird only, who knew well how to earn and how to keep his profits. There was also a distillery that manufactured a limited quantity of the genuine mountain dew, but very limited tliat quantity must have been, seeing that the manager, when trying to sell his goods one m Sk SILLERToy A.WIJ ITS SUliJiOUy Dl\(iS. 13 market day to a jolly farmer who was noted for the (quantity and quality of his liquor, and being told that unless he lowered his prices he might shut up shop altogether, at once retorted — " Na, na, man; as lang's we hae the same manager and the same part- ners we are quite capable of drinking the haill browst oursels." It is aluiost needless to say that the bib- ulous manager got an order on the spot. tSillerton then was somewhat like Rob Rorison's bonnet. "It was not the boimet, but the head that was in it," and so with SilJerton : it was not so much the locality that we should desire to place before the readers as the notabilities that lived there. Once, on questioning an old crone, on the deck of an arriving Quebec liner, what part of Scotliuid she hailed from, the answer came without a moment's hesitation, " Sooser than Golspie, at anyhoo," Golspie being rather in proximity to John o' Groat's. Here we shall be more precise, Sillerton lay on a low valley on Donside, and in full view of the last peak of the Grampian range that overlooks the whole Buchan district, and recalls to our memory the well-known line or lines, often quoted on the east coast : — " Tap o' Noth and Bennachie Are twa landmarks o' the sea." The village occupied a central position in the ■f 14 bCOTTiaU. FOLK-LORE. i v ■ i till'" parish, and was composed of about two dozen dwell- ing-houses, un imposing church that very probably once formed part of an ancient abbey, a good school and schoolhouse, an excellent inn, where man and beast could always command the best attention possible, and the village stove, where the guid wife could exchange her butter, cheese, and eggs for those creature comforts that warm alike the outer and inner man. Add to these the meal mill, the smithy, the carpenters and the shoemaker's workshops, and last, though not least, the famous distillery, and you have a fair picture of Sillerton. Ah! could I sweep away, as by magician's wand, half a century of years ; could I summon the old villagers to return, and ))e as they once were, wliat a shaking of dry bones would be in that old church- yard! What strange groups would pass along the street; how quaint would appear their habiliments ; how different from wiuit the village man or maid may now display ! Come, let us stand at the old iron gate that sep- arates the village of the living from the homes of the dead. Closed during the busy week, if indeed Siller- ton was ever busy, it opens only on the day of rest, to admit the worshippers to the house of God, or to wander, perchance, for a brief space until the bell proclaims the hour of prayer, — wander, we say, HILLERTON AND ITS SUIiROUyDINGS. 15 amongst the countless mounds that mark tlio last restmg-phices of departed ones whom we never knew, and of some, too, whom we knew right well nnd whose memory, yet fresh and green, may hr'iu^ a tear to the eye and sometimes, alas I a pang to the heart. A framed board, attached to the church wmII, is eagerly scanned by the gathering crowd, anxious to learn what matters of public interest are there re- corded for the benefit of the good folks of Sillerton : while near by stands a stone, somewhat elevMted above the ground, on which the beadle will by and by take his stand, at the "skailin' o' the kirk," and, in stentorian tones, announce the coming events of importance that are on the tapis for the week, pei'- haps ending with the pleasant announcement that Jamie Uobb, the pedler, will hold a riffle of Carse o' Gowrie apples, handkerchiefs, and tobacco, on \yed- nesday evening next, at the farm of Flechneuk, and closinp", very likely, with the remark that there would be a dance after the raffle. How strange! some will say, and this too, in Sabbath-keeping Scotland ! Ah ! fifty years hence old men may be telling to astonished listeners that they often heard ministers reading notices from the pulpit that had long ere tlien found their proper place among the advertisements of the daily or weekly newspaper. T le SCOTTISU FOLKLORE. ^ I. But, hush ! the bell has ceased tolling ; the wan- derers iiiiioiigthe green mounds are hurrying nearer the church door; while Dawvid Dunbar, the bea- dle, looms in sight, walking slowly from the manse gate towards the church, and carrying in his hand the large pulpit Bible, while behind him, with equal pace, but with infinite dignity, rolls along the Rev- erend Robert Fordyce, M. A., minister of the parish of Sillerton. The crowd that till then had been enjoying the usual " crack," file in rapidly as the steps of the beadle and parson draw near the iron gate, the last to enter being a couple that had availed themselves of the opportunity that the morning's walk afforded of whispering munnurings of love to each other, and who now enter the sacred edifice by different doors, for, strange to say, there were at least ha!f a dozen side doors in the church of Sillerton. At last, all have found their places in the different seats set apart for the parishioners ; the principal door is swung to upon its massive hinges ; there is a moment or two of almost painful silence; and then, rising majestically in his plain but seemly pul- pit, the minister of Sillerton, in slow and solemn t/^nes, opens the service of the sanctuary in the well- known phrase — " Let us worship God by singing to His praise in the Hundredth Psalm." aiLLEiiTuy Ayn rra suTAJiiLUiEs. 17 CHAPTER III. and |pul- mm rell- |gto SILLERTON AND 1T8 NOTABILITIES. And the guid Culdees o' Sillerton Might plead for King Malcohn'a repose, Wha vow'd to Sanct Andrew, their haly house, For victory o'er his foes. " TJie DeviVs Stane o' Kemnay,'" slightly altered. We were interrupted in our description of Siller- ton and its surroundings by the commencement of public worship in the parish church. We shall now resume our subject, and Sillerton once properly located, as an American would probably put it, we may now proceed to sketch a few of its notabilities. There were, in those golden days, no dissenters, so called, in the parish. Had Sillerton possessed a Temple of Janus, the doors would undoubtedly have been closed, and the janitor might have safely locked them and become a Rip Van Winkle for a few years without any dread of interruption to his slumbers. The only other place of worship, besides the par- ish church, was a small Episcopal chapel, once a I t8 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE, lapidary's workshop, with a unique history of its own, l>iit now coiisiderubly remodelled, and almost covered ^^ ith ivy, and showing a Maltese cross upon either gal)le, as if to indicate its now sacred character. This building accommodated sufficiently a small number of the parishioners who still chnig to the Episcopal form of worship, and who, along with about a dozen aristocratic famili(3S who diove tlieie from considerable distances around, waited upon the n)in- istrations of the IJev. William Walcott, M. A., well known for his Broad Church proclivities, an excel- lent scholar, an author (afterwards) of consider- able notability, and who, notwithstanding all these accomplishments, had yet the good sense to preach sermons that were never known to exceed fifteen minutes in the delivery. The church of Sillcrton, as has been said, was once probably part of an abbey, but the steeple, to which the church itself seemed a "lean-to," was of a much more ancient date, and w'as generally sup- posed to have been built by Malcolm Can more, King of Scotland. "Well it may be that Canmoi'e was a first-class fighting man, but, judging from his at- tempt at building towers, he must, as an architect have proved a sad failure. We cannot, indeed, even with all our admiration for the great Malcolm, con- gratulate the ancient king upon the beauty of con- l>lLLEliTOy AND ITS NOTABILITIES. 10 ception displayed, though certainly in durability i)f material used lie takes the eake. It is at least curious also that the tower of Sil- lerton church should have, in one respect — that is to say, in the precise and exact an^ount of overcharge or undercharge of price for value received — resembled the breeches of King Robert the IJruce. The latter were too dear, the former too cheap. Tradition has it that the king was somewhat stingy with the royal tailor — as the song says : — " In days when our King Uohert rang, His trews they cost but half a croon ; He said they were a groat ower dear, And ea'd the tailor thief an' loon." On the other hand, it has also been handed down that when the mason who built the tower of Siller- ton had finished his work, and was on his way homewards, he looked back at the building and said, " Had I got a groat more I would have been satisfied." Groats must have been scarce in those days. Is it possible also that that dissatisfied mason had read the life of Hiram King of Tyre, who aided Solomon in his great work, and thereafter expressed anything but satisfaction with the return made by the Wise King? Being a Scotchman, and likely an Aber- donian at that, this may have well been so, and the groat too little in the case of the tower builder was ill In 20 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE. much the same as the cities in Galileo that Iliram 80 heartily despised. Now ill attempting to describe the notabilities of Sillerton, I feel it slightly difticult to decide exactly where to begin. Are the greater or lesser lights to conielhst? l>ut, as we now stand facing the tower, the puzzle seems solved by beginning at the right hand. Poor old John Laing was not much of a notability, and yet I could not consider a photo of Sillerton correct without John Laing somewhere, even though in the background. John was an elderly bachelor, and lived for many years in the village with his old mother, known in the parish by the euphonious name of Rachie Pirie. John must have been a sort of gardener in his young days, and still enjoyed the monopoly of trimming hedges, pruning trees, and of generally superintend- ing the nurseries that supplied material for planting the waste places of Sillerton. I can imagine that I see John Laing before me now — a thin, taU old man with gray hair, and cling- ing to the stovepipe hat that, Sunday or Saturday, he always wore. Once he was summoned to give evidence in London before a Committee of the House of Commons in con- nection with some local enterprise, and what a wealth I # ■m SILLKHTON AND ITS yOTABILITIES. 21 of story flowed from that little episode in liis life! Not Stiinley in his " Darkest Africa " could awaken interest in the breasts of his uncounted readers and admirers equal to the admiration that beamed in the faces of his youthful audience as Lainj^ described his wonderful experiences on the round trip between Sillerton and London. Th(^ modern globe-trotter would have played only second ti(hlle. I would not willingly touch the truth- fulness of Jolin's reports, but deep in my memory lies the conviction that the youth of Sillerton had been taught to believe, and by one who knew it too, that the choicest dish on the Royal table, and also often the only one there was " Cream porridge and cream to them." The occupant of the other half of Laing's house was the exciseman. Now, it generally was the case that the poor exciseman was a species of pariah of society — an outcsist — and thjit were the devil to cany him away, body jind bones, there would be few old wives in Scotland who would not take up the chorus of that inimitable song of Burns — "We v/ish you luck o' your prize, man ! " In Sillerton, however, no such feeling existed; the "ewie wi' the crookit horn" had long died out, and as the ganger's duties were nearly altogether SP 22 scornsu folk-lore. confined to the operations of the distillery his in- tercourse with the people generally was entirely of a social character, and in consequence he became " Good-fellow- well-met " throughout that district of the country, and was more frequently and perhaps more pleasantly employed testing the good qualities of SiUerton's usquebaugli with sugar and water than in measuring the quantities tliat flowed into his bonded cellars, or in tramping thi-ough moss and mire to discover some venturous Scot reaping the for- bidden fruits of the little still. I remember an adventure of the exciseman that excited no little merriment in the village. "I'he excise- man in this instance was a family man, the husband of a thrifty wife, and the proud father of at least half a dozen bairns. It so happened that x»I:s. M'Kay, in a fit of economy, suggested to her husband that their ordi- nary expenses would be considerably reduced were he to invest a little cash in a milch cow. The excise- man pleased, liked John Gilpin, to find that his lov- ing spouse was possessed of a frugal mind, at once acquiesced, and as there was a " roup " at the farm of Nethermains the following week, it was decided that on that eventful day the ganger should pro- ceed thither, and that if cows were sold for any- thing like feasible prices, he should become the SILLERTON AND ITS yoTAIilLiriES. 23 a purcliaser of one, and at once bring his prize home with him. On the day of sale the excisenian sallied forth accordingly to purchase the coveted cow. Tiie ganger, however, no matter how competent he mi .;li! !><' to tell the quantity and quality of a cask of \\iiisky, felt that, in gauging the qualities of a cow, he was somewhat at sea, and so, after obtaining the opinion of two or three cronies, and treating each expert in the usual way, he himself got about half seas over ; the advice or advices he had received got considerably mixed ; and the result was somewhat different from what he intended, and from what his better half had desired. Somewhere amongst the small hours the honest but fuddled gauger might have been seen leading a quadruped into the byre that had been prepared before'iiind for the purchase, but as every member of his family liad long ere then gone to sleep, it devolved upon ^fr. M'Kay to make his cow com- fortable for tlie night. Somewliat later on his better half learned that the cow was awaiting her attentio]), and, armed witli tlic ordinary milking pail, she procecdcfl to l)usiness. The result was almost fatal to Iler Ma j^^sty's collector of Excise. A quadruped wasin thesUiblc l»nt, alas ! the bovine characteristics were entirely \\aiitiii<»; : n ! 24 SCOTTISU FOLK-LORE. the obfnscjited ganger hiid, instead of a cow, bought a horse. The wrath of Mrs. M'lvay in^eded no nursmg to keep it warm ; it attained incandescent heat at once ; and the hapless extnseinan I iiow did he fare? Well, I would pref.'M" iK)t to pe^netrate too deeply into the secrets of any njun's lireside, but this 1 may say, that if little milk came from the byre, there was a corresponding scarcity of the milk of Imman kind- ness everywhere about the ;^;iuoei's surroundings for some time. The waos of Sillerton did not readily forget the oft-toly the Presbytery to preach the (iospel, the Presbyteiy leaving it to the licentiate to choose some churi^h, within tlie bounds, where his first sermon should be preached. Now, there was no little delicacy here. In your native parish where you had fooled with most of the young men, l)()th in school and college days, and where, perhaps, you might have made love to a few of tlie prettiest maidens — and there was truly no lack of that commodity either in the village or in the parisii — It was no easy matter for a participant in all these vaiuLies to cast off at once the old slough of worldly-mi ndedness, trip up gayly the pulpit stairs, and become at once the monitor, nay per- chance, the judge, of those who had formerly (ah ! how shoi-t a time ago) joined in his folly. But Louis Alexander had been somewhat a sly dog, and his old father had no knowledge of any- thing whatever that might have brought the faintest blush to the young dominie's cheek, as he entered, for the first time, his father's pulpit. I do not exactly know what Louis' feelings were on that eventful Saturday that preceded the day when 28 SCOTTISH FO L K- L ORE. he was, by his father's special request, to liold forth to the parishioners of Sillerton. Days, )iay, niglits as well, had been spent in his preparations ; his care- fully-conned sermon had received its final touches ; the other parts of the service had also received due attention, and nothing remained but that the actual performance should be in keeping with the success- ful rehearsal. Yet. notwithstanding all the preparations, Louis Alexariier was not a particularly happy man on ta; t .j'^^ul Saturday. The work of the forenoon in the school engaged his i tiei^ioii ♦" ' some time, but as Scaturday was a half-holiday in Scotland even in those early days, the vacant afternoon left Daff considerably too much time to think over the trying ordeal that awaited him in his father's pulpit the next day. Evening came at last, and after a hurried tea, par- taken of very sparingly by the embryo preacher, he retired to his own room, leaving orders that he should not be disturbed till breakfast time the fol- lowing morning. Gradually the shop and smithy poured forth their respective groups of honest ploughmen that dropped in at the village on a Saturday night to get a sock sharpened, or perhaps to purchase an ounce or two of good twist tobacco j maybe to get a glimpse of THE DOMINIE. 29 some bonriie lassie thut found it necessary to sear(3h around for a seemly peat wherewitli to "rest" her fire for the night, for mind you those were yet scarcely the days of lueifer matches. Well, strange though it may seem, yet it invariably happened on these Saturday nights, when curfew time came, Jeiniy had difficulty in finding a suitable peat, and just as she was almost giving up the task in despair, Jocky chanced — maik you, "chanced" — to put in an appearance; the peat was soon found, for the youth was a good judge of these articles ; the fire was speedily "rested," and Jocky was — I had almost said, soon on his way liome wards. There is no doubt this sliould h;ive been the case, for the guidmjui and his helpmeet had long retired to the privacy of their own chamber, but somehow or other there was a difficulty in sayhig "good- night." No, there was no difficulty in saying "good-night," but in saying the very last "good- night." Othello knew something of this when he said, " One more, and this the last." I believe that the Sillerton youths of that day had some idea that "good-night" was a species of adjective that had the ordinary, perhaps ex- traordinary, degrees of comparison. It went with them, apparently, through the positive, comparative and superlative degrees, but for some reason, that 80 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE. hiis never been fully explained, the superlative "good-night" seemed the hardest nut to crack in tlie lover's grammar. Certainly it was no noun, for it never seemed to be declined, and though those years have drifted far away, yet I have a most vivid recollection of the almost insurmountable diflQculties that were sometimes encountered before the hps could be framed to utter honestly— that is, without equivocation or mental reserviition of any kind whatever — that last — that very last — "good- night." Sillerton was soon still as the grave. As Peter Pindar says somewhere : — '* Now silence in the country stalk'd the dews, As if she wore a flannel pair of. shoes, Lone list'ning, as the poets well remark, To falling mill-streams and the mastiff's bark ; To loves of wide-mouth'd cats, most mournful tales ; To hoot of owls amid the dusky vales." %■■ It , i 1 t s", ■1 •li. The last candle in the manse had passed beneath the extinguisher ; the last shell lamp in the village had died out, and Louis Alexander Daff, the parish schoolmaster, and the aspirant for ecclesiastical honors, is supposed to have yielded to nature's sweet restorer — sleep. And now comes in a small additional portion of the story as it was told. Well, as to Louis, we THE DOMINIE. 31 shall see. Morning came; breakfast came also to the occupants of the manse ; but Louis Alexander came not. The father was somewhat troubled at the non-appearance of his son, and a maidservant was detailed to summon the loiterer to partake of that substantial Scotch meal that in old-world homes was the meal of the day, bn^ no Louis was there ; the sheets were cold — the bird had flown. in i ' 3^ scorns II f(jlk-l hk CIIAl^TKU V. ¥. THE DOMINIE, CON TIMKD. (lie him strong drink until hu wink, Tliat's sinking in despaii' ; And liquor guid to fire hi^i bluid, That's press'd wi' grief and care : Tliere let him bouse, an' deep carouse, Wi' bumpers flowing o'er. Till he forgets his loves or debts, An' minds his grief, no more." Proverbs, xxxi., G,7. In the last chapter it was said tliatthe ambilious Dominie had retired to his own room. But, alas! there was no rest there for him. The ights of next day's duties weighed heavily on his mind, and instead of seeking a cessation of his troubles be- neath the blankets, Daff slid quietly down from his bedroom window, and sauntered leisurely along the village road. What he intended to do or where he intended to go, as he slipped that night from his window, I am unable to say. Probably he thought that a quiet daunder would cool his blood, and predispose him THE DOMINIE, (JOS ri.\ I ■ Kl). • JO in to tliat !s]i:l'[) tiiat would ^ivt! liiiii the respite of at least a few liours. Al hitj^tli, liowever, liis steps Honiehow Ini.u'd in tlu! diieetion of l*araclise, a species of Oriniliil ^liideii that ^^nieed one of the many beaiUifiil inea(h>\vs of Sillertoii, and where the ciuef f^ai'dener was a erony ai tlie schoolmaster. Datl' was wont to diop in (K.'casionaliy theie, and [^(ineraliy before; hiavin;^ tlu're was produced a drop of good Scotch whisky, just for auld lang syne, in accordance with the habit and custom in those days. J^ut, out of inspect to Mr. Datt's character, we must say right here that lie was universally known as a strictly temperate man, and if his con- duct that Satui gravelled walks of Paradise, Their like I'll never see." Wlion the old man reached the word "never" ho became deeply moved. Had he been playing on a modern organ then, he would probably have touched the stop marked "Tremulante," but as his extemporized music was entirely vocal, it seemed as if he would nt ver stop, and when he reached the final "see," his performance degenerated into a note that was not precisely a whine, and yet not partic- ularly ditt'erent from a genuine howl. The words and music, however, produced a softening influence uj)on the good laird; his savage breast was soothed, and with a hearty roar of laughter, John Tamson's sentence was revoked, and he was relegated once more to delve about the gravelled walks of Para- dise. Such was Louis Alexander Dalf's host on that memorable Siiturday night. The schoolmaster's story was soon told. The old-fashinnerl bine bottle duly made its appearance. A few glasses of the generous, soothing liquor i i i '1 If 111.' .SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE. found its way to the very heart of the troubled Dominie, till, alas! the truth must be confessed, poor Daff was overtaken, and some time amongst the sma' hours he fell into a profound sleep. At the time good old Daff was filling whiit should have been that day his son's place in the pulpit of Sillerton, that son was still slumbering peacefully on the bed of John Tamson, in Paradise, for — " Partly vvi' fear he was o'erconie, And partly he was drimk, Tliat r.ighi." A gentle whisper reached the manse, during the afternoon, of the whereabouts of Louis Alexander, and as the gloamin' deepened into the darkness of a quiet Sunday sunnner evening, the minister's gig deposited near the manse door the considerably shaken-up person of the still obfuscated school- master. (Quietly he stole away to his own room without obtruding his company upon his irate father. Sleep speedily came to restore iin equi- librium that had been sadly disturbed amidst the groves of Paradise, and as the su)i sent his first rays over the parish of Sillerton, and lighted up the heath-clad face of the distant Bennachie, the would-be preacher awoke to commence his duties of the week — awoke perhaps a sadder, but certainly a wiser man. THE DOMINIE MOUNTED 87 CHAPTER VI. THE DOMINIE MOUXTED. So stooping down, as needs he must 'vVho cannot sit iipriglit. He grasp'd the mane with both his hands, And eke with all his might. — '^ John Gilpin.** One other tale of the old Dominie that never failed to awaken the merriment of the listeners was con- nected with his horsemanship, which, very evidently, was not of a remarkably high order. It was just possible though that the schoolmaster had but few opportunities of studying the noble art of eques- trianism. Occasionally, like some eccentric comet, the great and famous Ord appeared on the Sillerton horizon, to show off his splendid bareback riding and feats of horsemanship; yet only a few boys at- tempted to imitate him, and of all men in the world Louis Alexander would have been the last to follow the example. It was also true that the eccentric Earl of Kintore occasionally rode through the village with his hunte- rs , If. k i (i \ 11 If Hi i'' ill i 38 SCOTTISH FOLK-L OR E. men and hounds, and there were shown places where he had made tremendous leaps in pursuit of rey- nard, but these saltations the douce dominie would scarcely have attempted had even Tam o' Shanter's carlin been behind him. Bold Buffalo Bill was then a name unknown, and cowboys liad not as yet been evolved from the quiet Scotch herd laddie, nor, in consequence, liad their f(^ats on Mexican plugs or bucking mustangs been exhibited in all their glory to awaken the admira- tion or excite tlie rivalry of tlie Britisli equestrian. Without nuich schooling in the eciuinal mysteries, therefore, Daff took kindly to a horse probably in this way. During his more youthful days, when juvenile ambition fills the human heart with the intense desire of doing something that might call down the praises of our fellow-men, he might have pleaded guilty to the soft impeachment. IMany men at that age become imbued with martial ardor ; feel that there is that in them that might some day con- vert them into Napoleons or Wellingtons ; sigh for a life of glory, and leaving kirk, or school, or farm behind, join the ranks of those who seek the " bub- ble reputation at the eaiuion's r.iouth." Well, Louis was not one of those. Another man is fired by tales of travel and advent- ure by sea and land, and the mantle of Mungo Park THE DOMINIE MOUNTED. tails oil his shoulders, and the next thin.c^ we hear of him is he is hunting- Vniti'alowitii I>liickf(;et Indians on tlio western prairies of America, or listening to an original negro melody at tiie sources of the Nile. Ah I no; Louis' affections did not incline in that direction. In fact, to come to the point, his love of discovery or adventure did not spur liim on far to the eastward or \vestward of the boundary line of the parish of Sillerton. Tlie andjition of Datf, such as it was, was circumscribed. Tliat ambition, thougli deferred for several years, was to possess a horse, and to exhibit his figure upon that quadruped's back every afternoon as far as tlie farm of Scrape- hard, and back again to the schoolhouse of Siller- ton. This he had done for over a year, week in and week out, wind and rain (there was no tide in Siller- ton, barring a few holiday tides that w^ere still re- membered) — wind and rain we said permitting, for no man was more careful of his health than the schoolmaster of Sillerton. It was observed, how- ever, that he dominie never once during this time had brought his equestrian exercises to a pace faster than an ordinary walk. The trot, the canter, and the gallop were utterly ignored, and had the feelings of man and beast been subjected to the operations of a mind-reader, it might have been hard to decide, .'' THE DOMINIE MOUNTED. 41 anything but a good one, even at his usual pace, but when, without any prehniinaries, the quiet, sedate walk became a terrific, thundering gallop, that seat was nowhere, or rather the seat was everywhere, now up about a foot and a half above the snorting horse, now bumped with the force of a sledge-ham- mer against the crupper of his saddle, and now and again ciianging sides, till the poor pedagogue s»»enied as if describing circles round a movable centre, that centre being somewhere along the spinal cord of his bounding steed. Louis Alexander's mind, however, never lost en- tirely its e(piilibrium no matter how much th:it of his body was disturlu'd. Danger he certainly ielt;, but self-presei"vation was an inherent principle of his nature, and doing just what he was only able to do, and in this following the commendable ex- ample of the " Train-band captain of famous London Town," under somewhat similar circumstances, he leant forward upo.i his horse's neck, left the llowing reins to the guiding hand of chance, if to nothing better, and, with hands desperately entwined amongst the exuberant tresses of Dobbin's mane, bade fair at first to leave his tormentor behind him. But, alas ! such was not to be ; the village doctor was better mounted than the parish Dominie ; the one nag was a fiery steed, accustomed to respond to k! i" il m \i m 42 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE, i ! V, ; 'r ' I 1. \] 'j '3 ! '. 1: ■ ■:- '■ *1 ' l ;i!l his rider's importunities, while poor Dobbin, even had all other tilings been equal, was sadly handi- capped, and so it came to pass that both riders' en- tered the astonished village, not exactly neck and neck, but T)aff leading by a length. Tiie whole village — man, woman, and child (there were no :anines in Sillerton) — turned out to see what the noise meant, for the triumphant medico never missed a thwack of his whip, nor a tally-ho of his tongue, till tlie sair-forfoughten Dominie found shelter within his own gates. There was not much law then in Sillerton ; that was a luxury for the great ones of the earth; and actions for assault and battery were there utterly unknown. KSillerlon, in fact, in this proved that 'listory often repeats itself, for an ancient heathen poet says in words that, freely translated into English, would give the stanza as under — •' By lovo of ri;;?ht, and native justice led, In strai.';ht paths of equity they tread ; Nor know the b;ir, nor fear the judge's frown, UnpractisM in the wrangHngs of the gcwn." The sufferer had simply to grin and bear, and the poor schoolmaster, on account of the many bruises ustahied by his lower limbs, was said to have worr something resembling a kilt for ten days thereafter, IS. ;; ■Itiil THE DOMINIE MOUNTED. 48 till the skin wounds were gradually and effectually healed, though some mental and even physical scars may have doubtless remained. 'J'he village worthies delighted to tell this tale wiion rent-day and cracks and ale came round ; and wicked Low, it was believed, never repented of what he had done, and continued, for many a year after- wards, to crack his whip and his jokes merrily as ever. A change, however, had coine over the spirit of his victim's dream ; his ambition, if ambition it was, had to find vent in some other and safer channel; and the saddle and spurs, like the war- rior's disused weapons, thereafter hung idly in the hall of the schoolhouse. Louis Alexander Daff never mounted steed again. I V . m ^■•■, If s l^ I > >i! 1 i i < 1: ;i li ! '■. II 44 aCOTTlSU FOLK-LOBE, CHAPTER VII. A DISSOLVIXa VIEW. *' The knights are dust ; their swords are rust ; Their souls are with the saints we trust." It appears to the author of this shnple yet au- thentic narrative as if he had determined in his own mind to write nothing about tlie folks of Sillerton but what might excite only our risible faculties. Now, this charge, if charge it is, we are inclined to explain, if not indeed to deny. There might have been, and there doitbtless were, many things that happened in the village and its surroundings in those boyhood days of ours that were well calculated to stir our better nature to its profoundest depths ; there were tragedies enacted there that perhaps sent the dagger of sorrow as straight to the heart as when the guileless Desdemona died beneath the hand of the loving but jealous Moor ; there were pages of remorse written there on the stricken soul that no pen shall ever chronicle ; tears shed that were felt only by the cheeks over which they flowed ; A DISSOLVIXG VIEn\ 45 and blighted hopes there were, that death, in summer's prime, might only faintly indieate; but in life the silent lips kept their secret well, and now the luimble, moss-grown tombstone tells no tales. Some things of a saddened character certainly happened occasionally in Sillerton, and were per- haps known and felt by us also ; but the tear and sigh were soon forgotten by the young, for to tliem the clouds return not after the rain; it was the laughter of the merry that still and ever kept ring- hig in our ears. And so, when much of the grave and sad lias been washed away from memory by the waves of time, the merry things that happened, and the quaint and jocular stories that were told, made deeper tracks in our memories, and in conse- quence yet linger round us still, and rise up before us as if the wand of some mighty magician had called them all back to new-born life and action. Well, there is nothing particularly merry before us at the present moment ; there may, however, be something pleasant to contemplate, and hence en- joyable. Louis Alexander Daff — not he of youthful days nor he of robust manhood, but Daff the now superaniuiated schoolmaster of Sillerton, still claims a few pages of notice ere he pass by to mingle with the shadows of the past. m Pi I ■;] l>l «l; II b. ' 's * if' 11^ :; ^i 4w SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE. t I can now see before me that old iiian, of whom I have Jilready siiid so much, weaned of tlie frivoUties of youth, few as they were, and descending into the vale of years, surrounded by the respect of his neighbors, and bearing along with him the hallowed privileges and dignities of age. He still enjoys his outing, but the saddle has long given jilace to the more sober social gig; Dobbin, the third in succes- sion of that name, gray like his master, walks along in harness, and Mrs. Daff, kindly and homely in all her ways, is always beside her loving lord as lie drives — save the mark ! — back and foilh between the eighteenth milestone and the schoolhouse of Siller- ton. Just at this point in my narrative, however* candor compels me to say something of my ov/n con- nection with the Dominie's stable arrangements, ;nid should the laugh be turned against me, as it certainly has every chance of being, it must at least be borne in mind that a barefooted callant on horseback is very apt to ride pretty much towards the same des- tination which beggars under similar conditions are said to reach. It might help also to break my own fall considerably to remind the reader that " he rides siccar that never faas." It may be as well also to mention that Daff kept no man or boy to look after outside affairs. A few v& A DISSOLVING VIEW. 4T days of a handy laborer sufficed to plant the kail and potatoes in spring, and to house thoni wlien autumn came. In fact the servant girl was n maid of all work ; looked pretty much after the iiMt,^ and faithfully bestowed upon the animal tlie daily allowance of oats and hay that Louis Alexander gave. Beyond, however, the feeding, Kirsty did no more, and to her the mysteries of curry-comb and brush were absolutely unknown. The truth was that had not Daft" been equal to the occasion, a modern Hercules would have speedily been re- quired to clean the Dominie's stable. But to fond off such a dilemma, Datf, cunning old rogue that he was, had succeeded in associating the brushing of Dobbin with the highest honors. Daily for a few minutes the old man entered the schoolroom to exchange greetings with his assistant, and to inquire particularly how the Latinists were getting on. After exhortuig the latter to study well and faithfully the ludiments, adding very emphati- cally on every occasion, "The rudiments are the very soul of the language," he detailed two of our number— Latinists, always Latinists — to brush up Dobbin fo, Jio afternoon's drive. T had often been one of the two detailed for fatigue duty, if fatigue it could be called, for the loose hairs on Dobbin were more likely to be rubbed off by our corduroy breeches ',ii i(\ !l -f Vli i :( a t i ' • l! A^ I 48 scorns II folk-lore. than by tho regulation curry-comb. The fact was that after a very suiall amount of rubbing down we were accustomed to take tiie old horse out of the stable, and with one boy on his back and another in the rear armed with a good whip, we liad lively times of it, and doubtless refreshed our own memo- ries of a former Dobbin's youthful gallop, with mad Doctor Low behind him. The pig, however, goes to the well till one day, and so with me and my stolen rides. My turn had now come, for my comrade was down, and I was "up." " Boots and saddles" had sounded, or in this case rather "Boots and no sad- dles," and with two or three smart cuts received from the whip, Dobbin seemed as if he would break the record. A shower had, however, rendered the race-course dangen isly slippery, and just as my gallant steed turned the corner of the hen-house — our winning post — man and horse came heavily to the ground. No doubt a feeling of fear crossed my mind at that supreme moment, not knowing ex- actly what the consequences of the tumble might be. Dr. Livingstone, the great African missir'iarj .i;id explorer, describes his sensations ir ne operat- ing teeth of an angry lion, and conci es, from per- sonal experience, that the rat in the clutcl ;s of his A DlSSOLViya VIEW. 40 natural enemy receives a siuUlen slio(;k to liis nerv- ous system that ])anishes both fear and suffering, and renders deatli almost, if not altogether, painless. This is doubtless true, but true it is also that a greater danger seems to entirely supersede a lesser one. And so in my case. In the act 1 falling I was sensible of the imminent danger to life and limb, but jusl then I caught a glimpse of the face of tlie thun(lerstrui;k and irate old man glaring omi- nously at me over tlie school fence. For once in my life I played fox and lay still. Tlie old horse, with sundry wriggles and struggles and groans, found liis legs again, but I deemed it more expedient not to find mine. Instantaneously the wrath of old Daff disappeared in the stronger feeling of fear lest one of his beloved Latinists had been rendered /tors de combat^ and with kindly hands I was lifted up. My ante-mortem statement was at once taken. It was found, or at least sur- mised, that I was not mortally wounded. No bones were broken, so far at least as Daffs very limited anatomical knowledge might venture on an opinion. But, from the dreadful lim[) that at once developed, it was plain that I must be hnit somewhere. A few kindly words, however, brought back the color to my cheek, and as I expressed an ability and wish to return at once to my place among the Latinists, the 4 jy :. 1 ill ^-i: < t. •J il U m mmaessfwoBmssssxi i^s^smai^*' f ' 11 i 1 1 v< ?. 1 J , 1 ^1 \ n 1} •1 \ fi :| '} i '■; ' U ' t .■ 1 1, ^},. 1 50 SCOITLSII FOLK-LOUE. fears of the Dominie Jit once Viinislied, and with a little assistance I was soon in the schoolroom and at work again. I received no scolding whatever, and my comrade, who was Q\^'iiY\y paHiaps cruninis, or "airt and pairt" as we express it in Scotch, got off as well. There were sly looks as we botli sat down in our places in the schoolroom to scan a few lines in Virgil, the losson for the afternoon, und the assistant teacher, who somehow, probably from information received from Daft' himself, seemed to take in the situation, could not resist the tempta- tion of quizzing us by showing the onomatopoetic beauties of the very appropriate line, Quadnqyed- ante putrem nouitn. quaiU uiifjula vampiun. Personal!} we did not enjoy the joke. Sore bones, aw^X bruised muscles, and the abrasion f a few square inches of cuticle on one's vdrson are not generally accom[)anied by very marked demonstra- tions of hilarity : and then, over and above all this, we had mental wounds as well to endure ; we knew and felt that we had lost our spurs ; curry combs and stolen gallops were no more for us ; we were reduced to the rank of infantry soldiers, and like good old Daft' himself in years gone by, dismounted for another reason forever — we liad liad our last ride on Dobbin. It was more, however, to depict the kindlier feelings of the village Dominie that this ■.^ W ^ M WWMI'ateWgfc*- A DISSOLVING VIEW, 61 chapter was begun than to immortalize my own exploits, may I not simply say failures ? Gladly I draw a veil over this youthful escapade, and direct your eyes to a more pleasing spectacle. Come, then, and let us take our place beside the piinip that stands exactly in the middle of the tree-shaded square. The original founder of Siller- ton had evidently been a mathematician, and, with a colossal pair of compasses in his hand, stuck one point down in the centre, saying, " Here is the well," and with a radius of a considerable number of yards, swung the other leg around till the circle was complete. Round that circumference a hedge of hawthorn and beech was planted, while elm and ash trees filled tlie inside of the circle. One bisecting line passed through this, terminating towards one end in the door of the inn, and towards the other in the great door of the church, and affording thus on either side an easy access to the water supply for the villagers. Hound this circle ran a well-kept road, and completing it there were four rows of houses form- ing a rectangle rather than an exact square. The trees rose to a considerable height, and opposite to Die Rchoolhouse a mighty elm threw out a giant mm as if to exchange courtesies witii the oid schoohuiister. ! K 'I % ':% ^K -r; r\ i :l il! 52 scorrisii folk-lore. The steeple clcKik has just struck nine, but scarcely has the last stroke sounded when a window opens; a night-capped head looks out; a khidly hand strews an abundance of crumbs upon the window-sill; a low whistle is heard, and iu an instant the hoary elm is alive with birds. Iloderick Dim's whistle brought stalwart warriors innumer- able from rock and tree and bracken bush, but Datt's quiet signal summons countless songsters, appar- ently from earth and heaven. The beautiful gold- finch is there; the more sombre chaflflnch; the brilliant bullfinch ; the homely but songful siskin ; while a whole army at least of robin redbreasts assert their claim to human sympathy — a claim also never disputed; while a considerable colony of overbearing, pugnacious, and ubiquitous sparrows all haste into that window-sill to share in a break- fast that, Saturday and Sunday, summer and win- ter, is never forgotten. Later on in the day, as the old man sits in the playground upon his easy-chair, we bring our pets to receive his praise, and a more tiingible acknowl- edgment at the same time, and also to hear his oft- repeated admonition, " Be kind, boys, to the lower animals." We would almost wish to stop here, but no ; the whole truth must needs be told, and there are still A DISSOLVING VIEW. in Sillerton men who as boys stood on that play- ground beside the schoohnaster, us lie dispensed his praise and his pence to those who had treated iiis pets with kindness, and who will perhaps recollect that we did not always act on the square with the old man. Poor Daff's eyesight had got dim, and his afifec- tion for birds and beasts was infinitely stronger than his memoiy. And did we not play upon these frailties ? Did not the jackdaw, that, five minutes ago belonged to Jack, become in an instant the l>roperty of Gill, and that, too, by a sleight of hand that might have done credit to the "Great Wizard of the North " ; and had we not frequently to hustle round to find new recruits for pay-day parade to supply the places of those who had all died in the meantime? This was very naughty on our part, but at all events, no matter our merits or demerits, Louis Alexander tried, in good faith, by rewards, to stimulato the young folks to exercise forbearance and kindliness towards the lower animals, and even if only too often his method of inculcating kind- ness was abused, yet still it ceased not to bear fruit. ITow often have we been Indebted to little inci- dents that happened to us in childhood for some of those tastes that thereafter grew with our growth I 1'* n B ! Hi «i 'Pi m i\ •r SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE. II I until they influenced our whole lives, and sometimes we could sciii'cely tell how they originated with us ! Personally I owe much to the simple alphabet of natural history that the old teacher taught me on the playground of Sillerton. On the playgreen of Sillerton there was little taught of the natural history of science, but there was much of that natural history with which the kindlier feelings of the heart have to do. We certainly learned but little there of the great classes into which the animal kingdom was divided; orders, families, genera, species, and varieties were not household words with the kindly schoolmaster, but if watching a ruby-throated humming bird sip- ping its nectar and drawing its other supplies from the storehouse of a flower, or listening to the newly- arrived Canadian rossignol pouring forth its sweet song, long ere the March winds had ceased to blow — if these are pleasures that T have been privileged to enjoy, how much of that enjoyment owed its very existence to the suggestive example of the kind Dominie; and the oft-repeated maxim, spoken on the schoolgreen of Sillerton, so many long years ago, still whispers in my ear, even amidst the solitudes of the primeval forest, " Boys, be kind to the lower animals." We owe this tribute, and we pay it wih- ingly, to the memory of the kind old man. A DISSOLVING VIEW. 55 The end came calmly as the quiet of a summer oloiuuing. The birds, as their wont was, flocked to tlie unopened window, but no breakfast awaited them that morning:; the hands that had long dis- l»ensed the crumbs to those that neither sow nor reap were folded in rest; the heart that had so often sent f.>rth its warm sympathies to the lower formations of the Creator's band was cold and still ; there was indeed a vacancy not only in the school of Sillerton, but in its village square as well ; the fluttering and twittering of the little winged orphans around the unopened schoolhouse window, and the absence of the well-known white nightcap, were the first in- timation to the villagers that their kindly neighbor would never again feed and clothe the poor, nor scatter crumbs to the little songsters that were still awaiting him at the draped window ; and so(m all that was mortal of the Rev. Louis Alexander Daft' was laid to rest beside his kindred dust in the old churchyard. After the funeral, a few friends gathered in the schoolhouse, as was the custom, to hear the will read. Daff had been a careful man, and left behind him a considerable amount of worldly wealth. Due provision was therefore made for the sorrowing widow; and, true to his character, amongst the legacies there was a weekly allowance set apart for ^ I '1 n 1 if il \ ' ' 1 jyilfl m SCOTTISH FOLKLORE. !' 1 '. ,.j- n I Dobbin, and an annual dole set aside also for the board of a favorite cock, these sums to be paid during the natural term of their lives. Strange to say, twenty years thereafter old Dobbin was still to be seen on the braes of Fetternear, and that identical cock was still crowing then, as if, like the eagles, he had renewed his age. Did a superabundance of kindly care keep the legatees in life? Did the caretaker of these two happy orphans discover and administer to his wards some elixir of life that enabled them to enjoy the bounty of their departed master long after the period usually allotted to the eiiuine or tlie gallinaceous animals; or was it possible, as some miserable misanthropes hinted, that old Dobbin and his ancient comrade had long ago ceased to neigh and crow, but that fit representatives had been found to enjoy that bounty that the village schoolmaster bestowetl upon at least two of the lower animals in his last will and testament? With the old squire we might say, " Much might be said on both sides." n f " He prayeth best who loveth best All things both great and small ; For the dear Gkxi who loveth us, He made and loveth all." TIIK STIC KIT LA WYER. 57 CHAPTER VIII. THE STKKIT LAWYER. The poor inliabitant boloNV "Was quick to Icuni :uul wise to know, And keenly feltrlu^ fiienut I had heard and seen enough; a species of terror now added wings to my feet, and I heard no more. The Master of Arts, however, Sandy or no Sandy, duly put in an appearance, and the potatoes that grew in the school-liouse garden of Sillerton were boiled by the niaidcMi sistei's of the ■Nfaster of Ails. I remember well one of Sandy's tricks. Fond of a liitle tohac(jo was he, but seldom was he able to imlulge in that luxury. Fortune, however, on one occasion at least, deigned to favor him. A sad in- flux of caterpillars came, the berry bushes were in inuninent danger, and tobacco smoke alone could put to flight the enemy. Poor Sandy for once in his life was happy. The ill wind blew him good on this occasion. His sisters purchased a few ounces of irf li ni'i -i.i it *Si, )■*■ ■J .1 HI ^11 00 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE. 1^ I :| i h i twist; a i)ii)o was procured, no inaltcr where, and I had sevei'iil limes l!ie i>leasm(! of s«'iin^- llie Master of Arts sniokin.'jj nwiiy eonlenlediy ih(! pests that threatened to hi'in.^; ruin npon Lis sisteis' g-oose- l)ei-ries. A wliole week was s[)ent in th(; conseii'ntions per- fornianeeof duty, and hadtiie sisters' i-nise held(M)t, Sandy Datt* would liave smoked on, \vitht)nt one g'rumhlH at tiie tronl)le it cost him, till the Lerrlos were fall in,i^ from the l)ushes, or to latter Lammas for auiirht I know. One incident more I shall relate to till up the ])ackgTound I have attem[)ted to paint, and we shall then finish with the Daff family. Sandy was fond of tobacco, but Sandy was also fond of whisky. Hence those tears ! hence the stick it lawyer! hence a misspent lil'e, anrth anything, Sandy had won a sw<;et revenge. Not very long after, that small building was ten- :n * 1 : A I if I I I! I: .SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE. antless— the two sisters had passed away — and the schoolmaster's brother, Sandy Datf, the Aberdeen Master of Arts, soon followed. In him death gleaned the last sheaf of the Datf family. Alas ! poor Yorick ! j lii r : t 1 I I , ^ JJH.L0\y'6 WATCU L06T AMj FOU^D. (i:j CHAPTER TX. DOCTOR LOWS WAT( 11 LOST AND FOUND. Ye ken Jock Hornbook i' the dachun. Deil mak' his king's-hoocl in a spleuchan ; He's grown sae weel ac([uaint wV Bucluin An' ither chaps, The weans had oot their fingers laughin', An' pouk my hips. Burns. Doctor Low had in youthful, palmy days acceler- ated the movements of young Dobbin and his canny master from Nethermains to the village of Sillerton. But this was many years before I knew Sillerton, and it was only the old stories that I heard. Hut I also knew Low. In a small "fell " biggin', in somewhat advanced age, and alone, lived the old doctor. Hut Low's occupation was gone. The xilaces that knew him once now knew him no more. Xew kings had risen that knew not Joseph. Young science had juado strides that left the old practitioner behi'ul. Like tlio old three-deckers whose last shot had been lired, and which now, giving place to the ironclads of a recent |if ! t i i i i, j T ■p I ■ ! I! J :iM' ill 1 I 61 .SCO 7 77.S7/ FOL K- LOUE. day, Ijiy stijiiuled, useless hulks upon the shore, so ii younger iin Is 1.5 ^t SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE. CHAPTER X. HOW MART MITCHELSON DISHED HER HUSBAND'S BROSE. •' She has an ee, she has butane, The cat has twa the very color, Sic a wife as WilHe had ! " Tall, wall-sided, speaking a dialect neither Scotch nor English, but made up of both, and wearing a green patch over one eye — such was the subject of this sketch. This rude outline might have been drawn a year or two before old Dobbin became an orphan, and while John Forres, a young teacher from a peculiarly quiet and secluded parish of Aberdeen- shire, was assistant to the old schoolmaster. I shall have occasion to touch lightly upon the young dominie by and by. Mary Mitchelson T called her, but probably I should have designated her Mis. George Brodie. It was the custom, however, in Sillerton, and probably elsewhere, for some married ladies to retain their maiden names, just as ladies, in these modern days, celebrated in literature or art, or by rank or riches, often retain the name under which they won their UOW MAU Y MITCfJELSON DISHED THE liUOSE. 71 spurs, if I may be allowed to use the expression with reference to the fair sex. It seems to me indeed that this was more commonly the usage, perhaps I should have said universally the usage, when the gray mare was the better horse. Well, Mary Mitchelson was a woman of pro- nounced character, and affected a style of language and genteel manners that seemed considerably above her social position as a Sillertonian. Poor, simple, homely Geordie Brodie was only a sawyer, and before saw-mills were common in Sillerton earned his living by converting the Scotch firs that covered nine-tenths of the parish into boards and scantling. The labors of a sawyer were necessarily severe, and as long distances had frequently to be traversed between the home of the laborer and his workshoji, it was no wonder that Geordie Brodie often returned home weary, ay, weary and hungry as well. Thia was just as it should be under ordinary circum- stances; and wlien tliere was the wherewithal to satisfy the cravings of hnn|L;'er, the fact itself should have suggested a feeling of gnititnde, for our na- tional bard puts it thus — " Some luie meat and canna eat. And some wad eat that want it ; But we bae meat and wh can eat, Audbue the LurJ be Utuitkil," i 4 11 if! ill 4 \ ;i m 72 SCOTTISH FOLKLORE. ^ it % I have said that the sawyer should have heen grateful for the feeling of hunger under ordinary circumstances, but there was something more than ordinary in this case. Geordie Brodie and Mary Mitchelson were not precisely at one with regard to the quantity of eatables that should satisfy the gnawing appetite of a healtliy, hungry man. Mary, in fact, must have been first cousin to Mrs. Squeers, of Do-the-boys Hall, thonf»ii she did not adopt the same tactics in turning the edge of the appe- tite. And so it happened that the sawyer frequently, nay, invariably, complained of receiving short com- mons on his nightly return from his arduous labors. Philosophers had long ago discovered that "Nature abhorred a vacuum," but it needed no i»hllosopher to discover that when a vacuum existed in a man's stomach, the owner of said stomach was ill at ease with himself and the world at large. Mary ignored this fact, and day after day, and week after week, continued to dole out to Geordie a measure of brose to his supper that lacked at least a third of the quantity that he considered should fall to his lot. Complaints, grumblings, and recriminations in con- sequence passed between the pair, until one evening matters came to a climax, and Geordie Brodie abso- lutely refused to even tast€t his usual allowance. now MAliV MITCH 1:L soy DISHED TIIK lUiOSK. 73 Mary, ins tetul of yiel(lin,qjtliat obedience tluit slieluid doubtless once promised, l>iltiMly resented b(M' biis- biind's "evil temper," us siie wus pleased t.) vaW it, and brooded iji silence over her own fancied wrongs. Dnrincr tbe following day the same feeling; absorbed her thoughts, until near the time when preparation liad to be made for Geordie's return. Suddenly a happy thought seemed to strike Mrs. Brodie, and a smile of satisfaction flitted across her saturnine, pinched features. Eureka (I have found it), Mary might have exclaimed, had she known Greek, but, Greek or no Greek, she had found a hap- py solution to the problem that she had been so long pondering in her mind. To think, with Mary, was to act. She at once rose from her seat beside the fire that she had been stirring in anticipation of preparing her husband's evening meal, and hastened to the byre, that was only a few dozen of yards from the house. There, providing herself with the wood- en trough in which the cow was usually supplied with her allowance of boiled turnips and chaff, Mary was soon again in her own kitchen. Tlie trough was duly placed on the table where Geordie Brodie's cap of brose usually stood ; a large quantity of o;it- meal, butter, and boiling water were stirred together in the lordly dish, and with a grim smile of satisfac- tion, Mary awaited the denouement. ]>f^ u. »' r i ■ t \' t ill m T4 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE. She luul not long to wait. Brodie almost immedi- ately entered the little apartment that served the double purpose of kitchen and dining-room, and hungry and tired, as usual, his eye naturally turned to the table. A sarcastic jibe from his better-half might have accelerated his scrutinizing glance. Be that, however, as it may, the hungry sawyer took in the whole situation at once. And then, what a storm arose! Little did the wife anticipate the furious rage that, in one moment, converted the quiet and douce Geordie Brodie into a raving maniac. But so it was. What then and there took place was never known. Geordie Brodie went next morning to his daily toil as usual. Young Geordie — for they had one son — looked after such matters as required some atten- tion outside, and only after a long month's seclusion did Mary Mitchelson appear in the Sillerton Square. But an altered woman was she. Tier stiff and un- shapely form seemed even more acute-angled than before ; the sarcastic smile was perceptibly intensi- fied, and to crown all there was a green patch over one of her eyes, that was never removed during the many years that she thereafter lived in Sillerton. Poor Mary had few friends, and did little to con- ciliate the few who might have been friendly to her. Her bite was ever readier than her smile, and scath- uo ir MA li y M 1 1 aiKLsox uisii icd the brose. 75 iiig surciisui eumc inoiv freely iuul naturally from her lips than conimeiKlatioii ami praise. Sarcasm, indeed, with Mary Mituhelsun was always upon a hair-trigger. Once more we venture to fill up a background. The son, Geordie junior, was a pu^ul in the parish school, at this time taught by the assistant of Louis Alexander. One day during the recital of the fore- noon lessons, the door suddenly opened, the face of Mary Mitchelson appeared, and a shrill and some- what angry voice demanded — " George ! Avhere did you put the jocktaleg before you went to school ? " The question was put in words that stood out singly, as it were, and which were scarcely in the style commonly used in Sillerton. Very different were the accent and tone that came from Geordie, " In the greep ahint the coo, mither." The effect was irresistible. Even the smallest Scotch heads took it in. One roar of laughter rose from all present, which was also participated in by the youthful assistant. Mary, however, quailed not under the ridicule that her visit and question had evoked, but, ignoring all the others, she fixed her one eye upon the poor but guilty dominie, and speak- ing slowly, as if desiring that every word she uttered should be a species of dagger-thrust, she annihilated him with the scathing remark. "What — could — i hi ^i i li- ■^%. A^. IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) V A &?^ 1.0 LI m i^ :- IIIIM ; IIIM 1.8 1.25 1.4 1.6 ^ 6" ► V2 ^ w % 'a ^a >> V >^ Photographic Sciences Corporation rV « <,i>^ :\ \ ^^ <> !> 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, NY. 14580 (716) 872-4503 4^ 6^ w ri i'l . f I 76 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE. you — expect — out— of — Leochel ? " Leochel, I may explain, was the native parisli of the teacher. The door banged loudly and Mary Mitchelson was gone. Her remark, however, remained behind, and became a byword in the parish of Sillerton, and I doubt not, were I fortunate enough to ever revisit those scenes of my boyhood, I should still hear, many a time, a free and Scotch translation of the Jewish proverb, " Can any good thing come out of Naz- areth." qUEEN'S SCOICU Ati UPOKEN IN tSlLLERTON, 77 CHAPTER XI. THB queen's scotch AS SPOKEN IN SILLERTON. But he, I ween, was of the north coimtrie. Beattie's '•Minstrel.'" It was stated in the foregoing chapter that Mary Mitchelson spoke a dialect somewhat different from thiit used in Sillerton. At tlie same time it may be explained, that, for causes to be given, the Scotch of the Sillertonians was not precisely identical witli that spoken in other parishes of the Garioch, and especially in places lying to the west and north of the parish. It is curio^ s sometimes to note the effects pro- duced even by a range of hills surrounding a small community, and shutting it out, so to speak, from other communities ; effects that influence, in no small degree, language, character, both mental and physical, and last, but not least, religion itself. I recollect well, in boyhood's days, when spending my holiday among the hills that lie between the Don and Spey, I more than once came upon a connnu- ill ill f ■ , fill i il ^ I ^f■|| I 78 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE. i 'M { ■ nity of Roman Catholics living snugly in sonie sheltered valley that had remained uninfluenced by the great Reformation that had swept over Scot- land, but which had passed them by, simply on account of the gigantic bulwark of rocks and hills that rendered communication with the people living within this barrier very difficult, if not well-nigh impossible. I remember meeting on the Gaudie side of Ben- nachie, two members of the Royal Academy of Paintsrs, one of whom, the celebrated so-called " Philip of Spain," was searching closely for types of genuine Scottish faces, with which to fill up a his- torical scene he was painting. I sent him to such a spot as I have just described, the Cabrach, and years afterwards he assured me that he had found there exactly what he wanted. As to the influence of such a locality on language there can be no doubt whatever, and hence the Grampian range, that sheltered Sillerton from the west and north, rendered Sillerton's speech somewhat different from that spoken beyond the dividing line. There were other causes as well to influence our speech. SillerUm was, in one respect, somewhat ambitious, and amongst the farmers who cultivated its fair meadows and sunny slopes there were several who liad enjoyed the privilege of a college Q UEEN' 8 SCOTCH A H SPOKEN IN SILLER TON. 79 education. I do not mean to say that these men had given themselves the trouble of working for a degree in Arts^ but four years at the University had made them at least fair schohirs, while four years' intercourse with youths drawn from all parts of Scotland served, in no small measure, to influence their Doric Scotch, and through them to influence others with whom they were daily associ- ated. The degrees were more in the way of pro- fessional men; and ministers, schoolmasters, and medicals (we seemed to educate no lawyers in Sillerton) deemed it at least advisable to go in for the degree of M. A. From this it is evident that the Queen's Scotch was somewhat different among the upper ten of Sillerton society, for we were strictly conservative in those days, and when invited to a dance, dinner, or picnic, could always tell precisely who the individuals were, they at least of the parish, who would receive and accept invitations. All this had its influence beyond the immediate circle, like the stone cast into a still pond, that not only makes a splurge in the very spot where it falls, but sends countless ripples away on every side to the very shore. In fact, one can scarcely conceive how easily and readily language is affected by the circum- stances that surround us, and I remember well the :l %t\ Ki Mi; !■! i: mm !! \\i Uf 1-^ 80 .SCO /"r/87/ F07. K-LORE. remark of a pawky farmer of Silleitou in corrobora- tion of tiiis assertion on our part. A neighbor remarked tliat his "orra" man spoke in a style quite different from tliat used by the otlier servants. "Oh, aye," said tlie carl, "I ance sent Jock on some business to the Lothians ; lie was awa a hide fortniclit, and he has spoken pure English ever Since syne." There was also another factor at work which in due course affected the Queen's Scotch as spoken i:i Sillerton. Not many years before the commence- ment of my school-days, a good deal of Scotch was spoken by our schoolmasters, and it was no un- common circumstance to hear a commentary on a chapter of the Bible conducted from the pulpit in genuine Scotch. This was not the case with the Rev. Robert For- dyce, for with him both bearing and language were dignity personified ; but slightly farther north the old Scotch still held its sway, and an esteemed class-fellow of mine told me that he heard a note^ divine, not many miles from Aberlour, use the fol- lowing "grace before supper" on one occasion — " For what I and the ither three lads are aboot to receive, Lord, mak' us a' truly thankfu'. Amen." In this case, however, we must bear in mind that there was no doubt whatever about what language Q U t:K.Y S SCOTCU A S fiPOKEy /.V SIL L EH TON. 81 the speaker intended to use, uiid the T^ev. Mr. Wil- son, of Abei'louv, spoke Scotch becuuse he liked to speak it, and because probably he found himself more at home in it than were he using the Queen's English. l>ut in the case of educated men who knew English well, who could spell it correctly, and, were perfectly conversant with its grammar and idioms, we are well aware that they were frequently not acquainted with the proper vowel sounds. This fact is pointed out in the life of the author of " TuUochgorum." In one of Skinner's pieces, which is written in the purest English, the rhyme shows this defect. The piece we refer to is "John of Badenyon," and it is at least interesting to note how frequently the long sound of "o'' is made to ryhme to the last t^yllable ol the name of the hero, which is unquestionably short. Of course it might be pleaded that there are certahi "allowable rhymes," and that the greatest English poets have availed themselves of the privilege when necessary. In Pope we find the following lines — Thus Pegasus, a nearer way to take, May boldly deviate from the common track ; and in Dryden we have the following: — The sun his annual course obliquely made, Good days contracted and enlarg'd the bad. We might indeed quote such examples by the 6 : M i\ 1 •r t I I Vi • I I 82 8C0TTISU FOLK-LORE. hundred. This was iiiidoubteerablc dinicultiL's tliiit conhl not begot over, and in cnjise(j[iieiiue, wo luul ;i whole school of "Millo' Tiftie's Annies," nnd too frequently the conclusion poured foith the melancholy wail — -. " My true love died for me to-day ; I'll die for liini to-morrow." In f;ict Jeiin's clKunber of horrors would not have yielded to that of Mudaiiie Tussaud, and was dif- ferent only in this, tluit the wax figure a[>i)ealed simply to the eye, and was dumb, while JeaiTs bril- liant imagination not only placed the individuals before the mental eve, but made each one tell liis own tale. Truly the di-y boiies that Jean I>arden laid before us did not long remain such. There was soon a shaking amongst them, and under her magic touch, they became clothed anew with all the out- ward api)earances of animated life, and speedily fovuid living tongues to record once more their own experiences. There was also one peculiarity about many of Jean's ghost stories that gave them an interest that we could not otherwise have so keenly felt; they were localized and connected with places that we :«li knew well. In fact, there were few lonely phices in the parish without sojne brownie, or fairy, or hoodie of evil odor associated with it. JANE liAHDEy'S MILK FOR liAIilJS. 0- And there we sat and shivered, and listened willi rapt attention while the story sped on its w;iy ; listened with mouths and eyes widely opened to drink in all the absorbing details ; listened with a growing terror in our hearts at what might be, for all we knew, very near ourselves. And when the last word was spoken, and Jean, rising from her lecture chair, waved us to the door with the some- what abrupt good night — " Noo, bairns, aff to bed," we scampered off like a flock of frightened sheep. Xone of us had very far to go, but short as was the distance that intervened between Jean Barden's kitchen and my father's house, I woiUd rather have run the gauntlet between two lines of Indian braves, than traverse the few yards that I had to cover till I reached my own door. I fancied that there was a perfect host of malignant spirits behind me, with no running stream to bar pursuit. And so it hap- pened, that as the paternal door closed behind me, I felt, only then, that I could breathe again in safety. The question, indeed, might be asked, "But why listen to stories that produced such disagreeable consequences ; why go when the returning was ac- companied by such terrors as might have well kept us at home?" Alas ! gentle reader, is it then hard to find an answer ? Look at that poor bewildered 7 I . II ,1 (' ,ii :| ■ '1 l.'iffii' If If! si if Ml ii H \V U ,i ; f; moth circling nearer and nearer the flame that at last consumes its beauteous wings, and leaves it scorched and helpless on the ground to die. And has it never happened in your own experience, that you have felt just like that scorched moth — not while you were circling round your alluring light, but when — wings and hope all gone — you felt scorched and helpless ? We may not press the question further, for we well know what the answer should be, were the truth — the simple truth — the whole truth told. And so with us poor youngsters. There was a glamour about Jean Barden and her stories that we could not resist, and night after night, and week after week did we listen, until they became part and parcel of ourselves. And what was the conse- quence? There was not a youth amongst us that would have gone through the Home Park, or the Howe o' Coghard, after nightfall, could he by so doing have earned his weight in gold. Had we told ivt home all that we had heard, it might have been very different, but we evidently kept all this to our- selves. At the same time, in those days, there was little censorship exercised over tales told in the kitchen, and very probably there would have been no alarm at the result, even hud the whole been known. I JANE BARDEN 'S MILK FOB BABES. 00 ! I shall now step into the witness-box, and to sliow the unwholesonieness of suoh milk as Jean ladled out to the youngsters of Sillerton, I sliall honestly relate what I experienced on the very first trip that I made, after nightfall, and alone. I had l)een prom- ised a pair of " Bantams," by a farmer living some- where beyond Pitcaplr— that is to say, about fifteen miles from Sillerton. On a bright summer morning during the harvest holidays I saddled my pony, strapped on my back a suitable basket, and started for the home of my Bantams, the name of which place I have forgotten. I reached the farm all right, but every one was engaged in liarvest work in the distant fields, and so it happened that befoie I got my Bantams in my basket, and I was duly mounted on Donald's back, the sun had gone down and dark shadows were stealing along the sides and slopes of Bennachie. There was not much very startling in this, but as I trotted on, the shadows grew darker, until I found that I had to find my way home over a good dozen Scotch miles, and in the dark. This was my first experience of such a trial, and I certainly felt it. When I arrived at Gaudy Ford, the river seemed to me to have risen since T passed during the day, and there was;i'' iif)\^^ o.f;ni&liiii{J^iwvyters tUat kept me ' ,''■*'■ • ' ' ' ' ' i .' ' • , • ,' ' ' pondering 'oft ' fliy * bank • for «orti& tmio.* At last, • • • ♦ • • I • • • • I • <•• ••• t • . ' • • • •, » . . . .' I > • I • I I i I il :\ •I m III! !■! •I i -,-•-., ^^ .trttl I H 1^ 100 scorns II FOLK-LORE, however, realizing the fact that honit; lay beyond the ford, and recollecting that Donald could swim well, and so could his master, I pushed on and tlirough, and found that the stillness of night and the deep gloom had both combined to make thi.igs look worse than they actually were. Gaudy crossed and left behind, new troubles and fresh horrors came. The road passee teilewed strength and l>ac^l)one, and I trotted on. ' ' ' " • V • ' I < '-•4 • '»■ r- * ■ ■« . . . ♦ J . ."S .lANr: liAJiDENS MILK FOll liAltKS, 101 I • Tlie Howe o' Coghard was my la . painful experi- ence on lliat eventful journey. Jean l>;ii(len had shown a special favor for this place, and brownies, witches, and warlocks— ghosts with heads and with- out them were there — sighs and sounds that seemed to come from another world were often heard there, and in fact a finer field for awe-inspiring, gruesome influences could scarcely be imagined. I felt all this keenly. The horrible stories associated with the place all rushed back upon a memory that was perhaps on this occasi«m too retentive, and cau- tiously I drew bridle before plunging into the dismal shades of Coghard. The evening was now far spent. My progress had been unusually slow, as I had literally to often feel my way, and over and above the darkness of an autumn moonless night, there was an unpleasant sough among the tree-tops that threatened rain. There was, however, no help for it. I would have sooner joined a forlorn hope, and stormed a deadly breach, than ride that night through the Howe o' Coghard, but yet my home in Sillerton was beyond. How that basket rattled on my back, how the Bantams cackled and protested, and how fervently my prayers were said, I cannot tell now, but with the encouragement derived from both, and a more than usually liberal use of the heel upon Donald, U, i : ^, » 102 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE. ;.! the Howe was speedily and safely passed, and I soon thereafter found myself in the village of Sillerton. The same sensations I never again experienced. I was during that solitary ride almost cured of my superstitious weaknesses ; Jean Barden's teachings were, by a supreme, perhaps heroic effort, ignomin- iously cast aside, and I then learned to laugh at terrors, that have ere now turned some black heads almost instantaneously white. Jean, we doubt not, was honest in her convictions, as far as they went, and plied her art to the end of life, and doubtless was often thanked for the amuse- ment she afforded the youngsters. I must say, however, for myself, that had I learned that any one had been indoctrinating my own young bar- barians with such poison as I had personally sucked in Jean Barden's fir-lighted kitchen in the village of Sillerton fifty years ago, I would have said with the genial author of the "Ewie wi' the Crookit Horn"— ♦' O ! gin I had the loun that did it, Sworn I hae, as well as said it, Tho' a ' the warld should forbid it, I wadgiehisnecka thraw." , ■^ ^i^'.. THE POOR PlilOn TO T^^K POOR LAWS. 103 CHAPTER XIII. THE POOR PRIOR TO THE POOR LAWS. ^ *• For ye have the poor with you always." St. Mark, xiv., 7. Before Poor Laws were enacted, there existed a very primitive state of things as to those who wei-e denominated the poor. I do not mean to say that there were really no paupers, but poverty, at least in country places, aid not appear very oppressive. Most people put forth an effoi't to aid in support- ing their poor relations ; tlie Kirk-Session sent, per the hands of the elders, a quarterly dole of a few shillings to gladder the hearts of the aged recipients ; occasionally there were chnrities that provided a pittance for the deserving poor, and almost always, there were mill? and meal, and jieiliaps a few things besides, that found their way from the farmhouse to the humble abodes of those who, in some re- spects, like the Russian serf, seemed to belong to the soil. It should be mentioned, also, that on^ or two Jf: h\ ( IV. i I III 104 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE. 4 i i| (' ! channels there were, in addition to the means already stated, by which the old and indigent could eke out their somewhat contracted living, so that altogether the inevitably poor could aianage to get the two ends to meet. This chapter is headed " The Poor prior to the Poor Laws." This heading is selected advisedly, since my acquaintance with tlie poor, under tlie new system, dated several years later — in fact, after I had left college. That these laws were necessary there can be no doubt, but as little doubt is there, thai, by their operation, a change for the worse was produced in the minds of the Scottish peasantry, and that honest pride, that stinted itself to keep a poor relative from becoming a charge on the parish, entirely died away, and, instead, the more matter-of- fact feeling crept in — "If I pay my public rates, then my private charity ceases." With this brief explanation of the reason why I circumscribe my acquaintance with those requiring charity, I shall at once proceed with the subject more immediately before me, and show how much or bow little I knew of the poor of Sillerton, before the Poor Laws were enacted for their benefit. In close proximity to several of the large farms, there were one or two cottages occupied by aged 4 f« it I ■4- 1 « THE POO It PRIOR TO TilK POOR LAWS. 105 people, who had, perhaps, in younger days, been em- ployed as laborers on Uio fariii. Did I say "ccjUagesV" Well, that would ])e a misnomer. These dwellings were huts of the most primitive character, built of rough stones and sods, com- pacted together somehow; thatched with straw or heather, and with a floor made of clay that hiid received nnich the same treatment it would have got in a brick-yard, with the exception of the baking pro- cess, which, in this case, was never applied, the feet of the occupjints and the footsteps of time being deemed sufficient to render this primitive flooi- fit for the purpose it was intended to soive. Tliere was generally but one bole, or small window, look- ing out to the south; two windows IxMug in order when the dwelling boasted a " but and ,'i ben." There was no ceiling in these simple abodes, and the wood or peat fires that burned upon large slab-stones that formed the hearth produced a smoke that curled gracefully among the blackened rafters, until it found its way out by a hole in the roof, that could scarcely be called by the respectiible name of a chimney, but which, at the same time, did duty for that excellent institution. I do not mean to insiiuiate in the slightest degree that these huts were not comfortable, and tiiat their occupants were not quite contented with them ; but 1 4 ■ 1 i , , ^ I!: 'I I 1 106 SCOTTISH FOLK-LOBE. hf ;^ k i; l! 4\\ < , they certainly had their drawbacks. In certain con- ditions of the weather the smoke seemed to get be- wildered, and could not find its way to the usual place of exit, but then the occupants, like the tradi- tional eels, were used to this pyroligneous tribula- tion, thougli I honestly confess that, to one unac- customed to it, it would have been simply intolerable. An old friend in Canada, who had amassed a lai'ge fortune, told me that he had once taken a holi- day to go and visit his aged mother, who lived near the banks of the Spey. He was most anxious to spend a few days with the old lady, but was literally driven out of the house by the smoke, and had to take up his quarters in the hotel at Carr-Bridge, whence he could make occas -lal trips to visit her. Willingly would he have built a chimney, but the old woman demurred. That would have been an innovation that would have completely upset all her arrangements, and the son left his aged parent con- tented to live and die in the smoke. Speaking of smoke in Scotland reminds me of an incident that once happened in Canada to a couple of officers of the Royal Engineers and your humble servant, tnen officiating chaplain for that distin- guished corps, and on which occasion smoke played a conspicuous part. We had gone, during the bleak and stormy month of January, to shoot, " promiscu- \ , THE POOH PlllOli TO THE POOH LAWS. 107 > i ously," I may call it, in that primeval forest of yel- low [)ine that then mantled the banks of the Chaii- (liere, and in which there then existed a paradise both for the sportsman and for the lumberman. We were the guests of a member of the latter class, and spent three or four days, I should rather say nights, in one of his camps, which was built in what was once the hunting-grounds of the Abena- quais Indians, of whom only one family lived now in all that region. That we were comfortable generally goes without saying. The old cook had once worn Her Majesty's uniform, and his heart warmed when he found that his guests were of the militant profession, whether clerical or otherwise, and every effort was put forth to render us as comfortable as gastronomic art could make us. If pork and beans, the other luxuries that are to be found in a lumber camp, and the ordinary et- ceteras that we brought along with us, could make mortals happy, we had been happy indeed. But the Bubbly Jock was there, even in that primitive camp. The large " caboose " that occupied the centre of the shanty would persist in sending jets of smoke indiscriminately to every corner of the camp. Had it been summer, and had the mosquitoes and other pests that then hold high holiday in Canadian IN 11,' r, if.: I 1/ ',:.!' 'i>. t. 4.1 $ m ! I 108 scorns II folk-lore. } -li iv woods been in force, we might have submitted with ii good grace to the smudge tliat was constantly ai;d ruthlessly permeating our whole system. We held a council of war ; our highest scientific skill was brought into play to devise a cure for the smoke nuisance, and after mature deliberation we felt that we could successfully grapple with and conquer our enemy. So far, so well. Peter Farley, the cook, was in- vited to join our caucus. He was shown the method we proposed to employ, to get rid of the vile smoke that was gradually lessening the distance between us and the noble red man, and we dreamt in imagi- nation — so fondly dreamt — of a few hours of serene, unclouded happineess in that camp, and in our ex- uberance of joy we asked Farley if we had not com- pletely solved the difficulty. Peter not for one moment hesitated. In his mind the smoke question had been long solved, and it gav(* him no trouble whatever to unfold his opinion on the matter. " Well, gentlemen," said the ex-privalo 01 Her Majesty's 16th Foot, and now chief cook of Grande Roche Camp, " we are not in England, and if you cure the smoke, there is no saying but that :.3 ne of the boys may find fault with the cooking." Having delivered himself of this oracular response, !• i dey left us to our own meditations, and quickly dis- THE POOH PRIOR TO TUE POOR LAWS. 109 appeared in the commingling cloud of smoke and steam that whirled and floated around and above tlie blazing caboose. It was very evident to us that thero were other things that troubled more the anxious cook than the vile pyroligneous acid that miglit pinch the eyes or excite the choler of his sorrowful guests, who verily had been gradually developing into a species of human " weeping willows." Our fate was undoubtedly sealed; from Peter's judgment there was no appeal. Another twenty- four-hours' rubbing in of this " Indian tan " would make us as yellow as the mocassins that we wore, and we simply bent to tlie inevitable. The very rapid depletion of our cigar-cases within the next half-hour, and the dense volume of tobacco-smoke that rose above us and gradually joined issue with the mightier cloud into which Farley had incon- tinently disappeared, might have easily convinced the most sceptical unbeliever, that the guests of the genial proprietor of Grand Roche Camp were firm believers in the great maxim of the homoeopath ists — Similia similihus curantur — "Likes are cured by likes." To return to our Sillerton poor and their smoky dwellings, we may remark, that, if they disregarded the smoke, they were equally callous with regard to the question of light. In fact, there came less light ^"'1 h it* I m I li: iX \4 i" !i no SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE. t ;i •: ' !;■ frr)m the iniiii;iture window thiin from the peat fire tli;it smouldered on the hearth. But yet tlie occu- \) ints were contented therewith ; they did not really loquirc much light; their duties inside were not of such a nature as to require the glare of an electric fifty-candle-power carbon -burner, and if additional light were necessary, it could readily be produced i!i a decidedly primitive way, namely, by sticking a lighted fir-spunk in a link of the crook that hung over the fireplace. In fact, they objected on prin- ciple to the enlargement of their windows. On one occasion, along with my father, I visited an old man who lived somewhere near the old house of Tillyfour in such a hut as I have described. James Marnoch was then upwards of a hundred years of age, but still retained all his faculties, and was quite al)le to care in every way for himself. In James's hut there was no window whatever, and all the light of heaven he received, he did so on the outside of his biggin', or in a subdued form down the chimney. The Lady of Sillerton took much kindly interest in the poor of the parish, and provided many a little comfort for them that came in handy during the cold months of w'-iter. Marnoch was one of her favorites, and generally received a visit trom his b3nefactress occasionally during the summer. \> -^-^ TUE POOR PRIOR TO TUK POOR LAWii. HI i> Liite in autumn she left for Engliiiul, but before leaving, usually constituted my father her ahnoner, and to him entrusted whatever she had provided for her numerous pensioners, accompanied oftentimes with kindly messages, and hopeful wishes for their welfare. To Marnoch, on this occasion, were handed sun- dry parcels containing clothing, tea, sugar, and many small yet necessary articles besides. To deliver these was an easy matter, but I observed that my father had evidently something else to communicate, but apparently he had some difficulty in broaching it. At last, out it came. lie had received in- structions to get a window placed in the hut, as an improvement that his benefactress doubtless thought would be heartily appreciated by the centenarian. My father had doubts on that subject, and these were speedily confirmed. Marnoch expressed his grateful thanks for all the kindness received, but positively refused to accept the window. He had got accustomed to the light that came in by open door, or chimney, and more light would be dis- agreeable to him, and, in addition to this, the open- ing of a space for the proposed improvement might admit the cold as well as the light. James Marnoch lived and died in that hut, but no window was ever inserted in its wall. ^ifi 'X lil ,6 ill l'\ i'i • :• 11 L y I : im) { i ;t ! I I '■1 M !i 'ii i I 112 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE. One source of earning a few sliillin;j;;s now juicl tlien Ciiine to tliose poor creatures, ;it least to the women, in the way of knitting stockings and otlier olotliing. There was always a demand for such articles amongst a cl iss, that had neither the inclination iitr perhaps the ime to do such work, and where t'.ie small chi»rge made was certainly a temptation to get the knitthig done elsewhere than at home. Uui beyond the local trade, if I might so call it, there was a larger trade that found abundant employment for such as were able and willing to work. An agent for some manufacturing firm, or firms, made periodical visits to Sillerton, on which occa- sions he sui)plied his knitters with yarn, and at the same time received from them the articles finished since his former visit. It is true that very small prices were allowed for such work, but yet what they received was to them a sort of " Godsend," and, after all, the work required made but little demand upon their time, and, in fact, it often appeared to me that the old " bodies " could go on with their knitting under any circumstances, and without any apparent effort whatever. It is at least worthy of remaik that no one pro- tested against either the hardships undergone by the aged knitters of agency goods, nor against the mea- greness of the pay received for the work done, and iv ; i \.- iHE POOR ritlOii TO TIlE POOH LAWS. 113 certainly no Sillcrtoiii.in Tliomas Hood arose to awftken the torpcn* of the rich by writing or singing "The Song of the Stocking." At all events, the amounts received, small as they were, doubtless pro- cured a few of those creature comfciT-ts that age still permitted them to enjoy. There were no weavers in Sillerton, but in some of the neighboring parishes, work was found for this class much in the same way as was done in the knitting department. Material was supplied by an agent, and the cloth returned to him when finished. It occasionally happened, however, that, forsome fault in the weaving, the web was rejected, and the value of the material supplied for its maimfacture had to be refunded by the unfortunate weaver. I shall now close this chapter with an anecdote, the gist of which depends upon the custom above indicated. One day a well-known medical practi- tioner residing in the ancient burgh of Inverurie, while going his rounds, met an acquaintance, a weaver, who was returning from a disagreeable in- terview with the cloth agent, and carrying a rejected web under his arm. The doctor was not aware that Davio had made a failure, and cheerily remarked, "Weel, Davie, are ye gain' hame wi' yourwark?" Davie fancied that the question was a piece of sar- casm on the doctor's part, and owed him one for it. 8 1; !^!r i: '■ ' V i ^ ' i k ' " 1 1 ll ;•!' j] lU S(JorHi6U tOLK-LOUE. An opportunity soon offered. A patient of the doctor, in spite of all that science and care liiid done for hiin, went the way of all flesli. The funeral cortege was passing along the street ou tlie way to the churchyard, and the doctor was walking behind the hearse witli the sorrowing relatives. Davie chanced to be on hand, and saw, at a glance, that his opportunity had come. Rushing forward to tlie astonished medical practitioner, he bawled out, loud enough to be heard on both sides of the street, " Weel, doctor, are ye gain' hame wi' your wark ?" putting great emphasis upon the possessive pronoun. It was not long before the doctor took in the situation, and enjoyed it accordingly, and sitting at his hospitable table years afterwards, I had the privilege of hearing the story from his own lips. From the doctor's unqualified merriment, I pre- sume that he was satisfied, in his own mind, that Davie's sarcasm was, at least on this occasion, nnmerited. LICENSED BEUGARS, 115 CHAPTER XIV. u LICENSED BEGGARS — THE FATUOUS AND INSANE. Angels and ministers of grace defend us ! Ilanilet. In the lust chapter, in stating what I knew about the poor before the poor hiws were enacted, tliere was no mention made of any aristocracy of poverty in Sillerton. We had no Edie Ochiltrees there, no King's Bedesmen, no Blue Gowns — in fact no one exercising the right of asking charity within certain, or perhaps uncertain, bounds. It was the fact, however, that there were individ- uals who travelled as professional beggars through many of the Aberdeenshire parishes,and who, doubt- less, had obtained the privilege of doing so. I rec- ollect the occasional visits to our village of two wanderhig paupers. One was called Dickey Daw, a poor harmless idiot, and her companion was a middle-aged female who solicited and collected means for their mutual support. We had no analogous case in Sillerton, but such cases did exist in some of the neighboring j)arislies, m ■!l ■'^i 1 A U t ^ 1 ■ '1 i3 . ' '1 .' '1 1 I, t ; .a|. i 116 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE. ''■ :\ ') ! 1 and I have in my possession a document, issued by the kirk-session of Forbes, which will clearly enough show thiit such were perhaps common enough. Tlie document referred to is as follows : — These testify tliat the Bearer hereof Jean Bay, Sister to Isobel Bay, Spouse to Arthur Mitchell in the Parisli of Forbes carries along with her Patrick Mitchell one of their children, of about five years of age, altogether deprived of the use of his Reason and Faculties of his Bod 3' ; and his Parents bein,'^ reduced to Sh'aitning Circumstances, and haA'ing other t\vo young children incapable thro' N\h}lc no order was ever under any circumstances forgotten. Sometimes it happeried that Sandy had been sent in another direction, and a substitute hiul to be sent instead, and as usual, came orders and cash from everv farmer and cottar's wife alon*'* the roadside. IJut what a reckoning was there 0*1 the return trip! LICENSED BEGGARS. 121 ^ \ Oi-dera were entirely forgotten, or changed, or delivered in the wrong qusirter; the guidwife of Pitfuffie found two ounces of tobacco where slie ex- pecteot only when the spurious postman had got at least a good hundred yards away — " I wish tiie peer feel, Sandy Forbes, had gane to the post in- stead of that gype." Here again nature seemed once more to make up in one direction what she had withheld in another, and where judgment was sadly deticient, memory was supplied with a greater liberality. I am here reminded of an anecdote that I heard told by one who was intimately acquainted with the folk-lore of the Garioch, and who was wont to anmse many a Sillerton dinner-party therewith. The anecdote rehited to a family connected with the parish, and showed the difficulty that some- times existed of determining the mental condition of an individual. iir if 4 S9B 122 ^SCOTTISH FOLK-LOUE. % I ' m A doubt had arisen whether the heir-at-law of a cer- tiiin estate could be considered perfectly sane or not, and tliis for legal reasons. lie had been guilty of no outrage against the ordinary decencies and con- ventionalities of society, and he was quiet and re- tiring in his manner, but yet legal forms required to be satisfied. A species Oi jury met to inquire into his mental condition, r"./* "^ook evidence accordingly. Several witnesses, i> . ii against, were examined, as there were conflicting interests involved, and at length the defendant im. v :" was brought before the Court. Several questions were put to him, all of which he answered with sufficient clearness, and the impression was growing that the verdict must be given in his favor. Tirhig of tlie questioning, however, to which he had been subjected, he slightly lost his temper, and asked the Court to luury up, as the cattle would not be housed till lie got home! The remark was fatiil, and turned the scale that was inclining some- what to his own side. Tlie incongruity of the heir of an ancient house acting as cow-boy was to his judges clear enough evidence of mental weakness. The verdict was accordingly given in favor of plaintiff, and the self-appointed cow-boy lived to a good old age, but never entered upon the possession L ICENSEI) BEG G A li S. 123 of liis inheritance, and remained divested of the right and power of managing his own affairs. Of the two undesirable classes I have mentioned, the "feel" has now been described as the repre- sentative of the one, and I shall now pass on to the "lunatic," as representing the other. It is a strange thing to think of, j^et not stranger than true, that lunatics, pure and simple — lunatics in every sense of the word — were, many of them at least, at large in "Bonnie Scotland" about fifty years ago; not the merely fatuous, but even those who, if not admitted to be normally dangei'ous, might become so at any moment. Of conrse a wild raving maniac had to be looked to, and si one walls, and the never-failing strait-jacket, either restored the equilibrium of nund that seemed to have been disturbed, or pi'ovided another unfortunate for the i'.nuMiil, where there was little sorrowing, and but few tears. The connecting link was certainly a very peculiar being, quiet generally and inotfensive, and able to speak discreetly on every subject except one; but no sooner was that one mentioned than all ration- ality fled, and the monomaniac came at once to the front. Examples of this class are often to be met with, but in Sillerton there was certainly a very peculiar variety of the species. r i '. 1 i 4 124 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE. k' 1 it.il' 'IV .Jf. James, or rather Jamie Muir, was a fine, strong, well-built chiel ; able to attend to any ordinary duties, and possessed of a garden tliat was tlie admiration of the whole country-side. lint Jamie was literally mad on tartans. Whether he luid got the idea that he was devscended from some great Highland chief, I could never leaiii, but on all marked occasions, when the good folks of Sillerton met for festive or other purposes, there was Muir in full Highland costume, and sporting a bonnet and feather that might have passed muster before a Field-Marshal. One other peculiarity Jamie had ; he made a prac- tice of climbing to the top of the tallest trees in the parish, and always left a small flag of tartan flut- tering from the topmost bough. On one occasion he slipped when leaving his loftiest perch, but as llie tree was a larch, the branches drew out, so to speak, as Jamie's weight came upon them, and when he arrived, or nearly arrived, at terra firma, he lay upon half a cartload of branches, and the stately tree was completely stripped on one side. Jamie was considerably flurried on this occasion, but a huge pinch of sneeshin' put him all right again. Nor did the accident wean him from liis dangerous proclivities. Jamie was still to be seen amongst the branches, like the Pigmies of Darkest LICENCED UEC d ARS. vro Africa, and his sniiill flags sLill fluttered nuist-lilgli over his favorite trees. His brotlier was, however, an entirely different character. Darlc in appearance — soHtary and mi- sociable in liis disposition, and imbued with mehm- clioly ideas witli regard to most religious subjects, Willie ]\Iuir had more than once been placed under restraint, and had returned honie, only after long intervals of absence. No one imagined that he was really dangerous, but yet there was a general desire to shun him. On these occasions, when it was evident that the disease, if disease it was, was growing on him, Willie, or rather mad Willie Muir, as he was com- monly called, was often to be seen passing through the little village, always bareheaded, and generally with a ponderous cudgel in his hand. On one of these occasions, instead of passing through the village, as was his wont, he miule at once for the parish school, and opening the door suddenly, stood before the terrified youngsters, and, if possible, the more terrified schoolmaster. Look- ing neither to the right hand nor to the left, he made direct for the bench where sat Marshal Graham, one of the biggest boys in the school, and probably one of the most self-possessed. " Marshal Graham I " roared the madman, " take 1 J. il r^ \'\ \ > i r 1 ■ « ' If ft! 4 I :i i i; t fi 126 scornsfi folk-loue. up your Bible there ; turn up the fifth chapter of Miuk, and read it before me, rouii' the vilhige square ; and if ye miss ae woi'd or letter, aff gaes yer head, like a carl doddie I " The carl doddie was one of those heavy-headed grasses with which we played some game of chance, by knocking off the heads against each other. Up rose Graham, without one moment's hesitation — took his Bible in his hands, duly turned up the chapter as directed, and quietly awaited further orders. With a quiet but tirm grip upon the collar of the jacket, Muir speedily put Graham in march- inq; order at the door of the school. But before the Scripture reading begtui, there was a preparation on the pait of the madman tliat utterly terrorized the whole connnunity. 3Iuir deliberately drew from his pocket a razor, evidently prepared for the occasion, and brandishing this several times befoi-e Graham's eyes, ordered him to proceed. During all this time, which, after all did not ex- tend beyond a very few minutes, the poor dominie seemed dumfounded and helpless, but as Muir and his Scripture reader marched away from the school door, he suddenly seemed to recover his senses, and escaping from one of the windows that opened to- wards the back, made for the manse as if a thousand LICENSED BEG a A i:s. 127 fiends were behind him. Luckily, quiet, gentle For- dyce was in his garden, and tliougli a peculiarly re- tiring and indeed timid man, he yet at once went with the still more timid schoolmaster to the rescue of Graham. But how progressed the reading all this time? Slowly yet firmly, Graham marched round the vil- lage square reading aloud the prescribed passage, with Muir following closely behind him, listening eagerly to the words as they fell from the boy's lips and watching if there was any divergence from the authorized text, for mad Willie ."Muir knew the pas- sage most accurately, and would, no doubt, have visited an error with instant and terrible punish- ment. There was something supremely awful in the madman's look as he stalked behind that almost doomed boy, and briuidished the weapon of punish- ment in his hand. Once had the square been gone over, yet the chapter was only half read, and the weird ordeal went on. At that hour there was scarcely a man in the village, and if man there was, he certainly made no sign. The terror stricken urchins did not dare to approach the scene openly, but from nooks and corners watched the progress of the reader and his judge. . Ah ! might not that judge at any moment have ' * 1 ii (: I i 1 ^ t . i, i! I i 128 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE. r' developed into the grim ftnislier of the law; while many a blanched face i^eeped out cautiously from the windows as the procession moved along, dread- ing at every instant lest the final tragedy might come. On still went Giaham and Muir, till the square was circled for the second time, and just at that point, as the minister and the schoolmaster reached the group, Graham's voice clearly and correctly re- peated tlie concluding words of the chapter. There was an ominous pause, only for a second or two, and then the madman's voice uttered a respon- sive " Amen." The unexpected appearance on the scene of the clergyman, whom Muir had been ever taught to respect, seemed to act like a sedative up- on his troubled mind, and slowly the open razor was closed and placed in his pocket. With admi- rable tact, Fordyce forebore to revert to the cause that had brought him so unexpectedly to the village square, and, as he made some commonplace remarks that at once attracted Muir's attention, the sorelv- tried but successful scripture-reader at once took in the situation, and quietly placing a few yards bts tween himself and the trio, suddenly put on a spuit that has probably seldom been beaten. There was no meeting again that day in the par- ish school of Sillerton. The dominie was congider- LK E.SsED liEaUAKS. uri ably demoralized, and the scholars had witnessod ii scene that might have well driven Latin, and Kn^^lish grammar, and everything else completely out of their heads for even longer time tiian an aftenioon. At all events, neither teacher nor taiight enter«Ml again that day the schcKil, and it was a long tiir.c before it ceased to be remembeied what the occasion was that gave a half-holiday to the children of Sillerton. Mad Willie Muir had to be pnt once more under restraint, and never again returned to the parish. It was generally said that on his recovery he emi- grated to America, while a few were wont to relate on social occasions, when talk and toddy flowed freely together about the village inn, that they had reason to believe that Muir was eventually devoured by grizzly beai's among the " Rookies" of the then "Far West." Be that as it may, we believe that some social Scottish customs have been changed for the better, and that there is no great chance now of any young- ster of Sillerton being paraded to read a Scripture lesson with a raving madman at his side, and with the suggestive accompaniment of an open razor blazing ominously before or behind him, '0' J' 11: lao bcorriisu folk-lore. CHAPTER XV. CONVIVIALITIES OF 8ILLERT0N. Wj' merry sangs an' friendly cracks, I wat they didna weary ; An' unco tales an' funnie jokes, Their sports were cheap an' cheery. Halloween. It is undoubtedly a relief to pass from the com- pany of fools, monomaniacs, and madmen to almost any other society whatever. But yet most of our pleasures are founded on contrast, or at least in- tensified by it. The poet has not forgotten to remind us that " Sweet is pleasure after pain," and we scarcely re- quire to go to the poet to become convinced of this truism. We seem to fall in love on some principle of contrast; the grave not unfrequently affect the company of the gay ; learned Lords of Session have, ill more than one instance, taken to themselves wives wliose cliief education consisted in the ability to roast a joint or broil a beefsteak ; while liow often have we seen a veritable giant of six feet and a few C O.VT'i VlALlTlEiiVF UlLLEliWy. 131 inches over, striding along with a wife hanging on his arm wlio might have passed for a first cousin of one of Gulliver's Liliputians ! Prohably it was the force of contrast that induced the comely Scotch lassie to marry, and who, when asked by a neighbor, " Fat made ye marry that ugly chiel?" very innocently replied, " Weel I wat, he's nae a beauty, but then he's sic a guid-natured ureet." Well, from the grave things discussed in last chapter we would now take a glance at tliose social amusements that occasionally and sometimes periodi- cally engaged the attention of the good folks of Sillerton. No better description of the lively game of foot- ball, as practised by the boys and hobbledehoys of the parish, could we give tiian that supplied by the author of "Tullochgorum," but alas! few Scotch- men now would get through averse without looking into Jamieson at least a dozen of times, and I much fear, I will scarcely be held to have thrown much enlightenment upon the subject by quoting the following stanza : — .1*1 ':| i^lli i ! \. *' Like bumbees bizzing frae a byke, When herds their riggins tirr, The swankies lap thro' mire and syke, Wow as their heads did birr 1 if I III , H '\ 132 SCOTTLSU FOLK-LORE. " They youff'd the ba' frae dyke to dyke Wi unco speed and virr ; Some baith their shou'dera up did fyke, For blythness some did flirr Their teeth that day." Then we had our Halloween, not perhaps witli all the different ingredients that Burns with arlislic hand has thrown into his wonderful poem, but yet we iiad many of these, as well as those grand bon- fires, that in our young days lighted up eveiy hill and brae from Aberdeen to the Moray Firth, for this much we could discern from the Mither Tap o' Bennachie ; how much farther north I caimot say. Tlien came genial Yule with all its wealth of fun and jollity, and Auld New Year's Day, that we all sat up to greet, with its lucky or unlucky "first foot," its inevitable whisky bottle, its sowens, both for the comfort of the inner man and for the ruin of the door of him who had perhaps weakly allowed sleep to steal upon him, and so forgot his midnight vigil ; those shooting matches that gave a deeper zest to the ploughman's holiday; and last, though not least, on high occasions, the grand ball in some public hall, or perhaps barn, swept and garnished for the nonce, and where high and low met on a common platform, where all went merry as a marriage bell, and ordinary jealousies and social n CONVIVIALITIES OF SILIERTON. 133 differences were forgotten, at least until next morn- iiijjj's sun threw into shade the tallow dips that still flared and spluttered on the wall. Then what of our weddings and christenings? Were they not social events well deserving of com- memoration ? Who could express a doubt who mingled in our merry-makings fifty years ago, [)er- haps less? The christening had, of course, its higher religious associations, but it had its social side as well, and the genial parson, as a rule, when he concluded one part, was by no means averse to mingle in tlie other, the fact being that in Scotland, and indeed amongst Scotchmen wherever located or domiciled, the minister's duty was only half per- formed when the child was duly enrolled a Chris- tian, and at the social board thereafter, his carving knife requiiod as fine an edge as his tongue pos- sessed l)efore grace was said. I cannot deny myself the pleasure of here repeat- ing an anecdote that I got from one of the fathers of the Church of Scotland in Canada. Would that I Vi\\\\{\ rei)roiluce the very words and gestures that i^ave such reality to the story I The scene was laid in Scotland, where a knowl- edge of ilie Shorter Catechism was supposed to be the property of every man, woman and child belong- ing to the Kirk, and where regular diets of catechis- vi ii Mil I -f Kl: ' II r-jr~ IP [fei i I 134 SCOTTISH FOLKLORE, ing were held throughout every parish at stated times hy the parish minister. A parishioner called upon his minister to request him to come and christen his first-born. The minister consented, but took the liberty, as was his duty, of asking John one or two questions in the Catechism that touched more particularly upon the question of baptism. John was found wanting, so far as knowledge on this subject was concerned, and the conscientious parson put off the christening to a more convenient season — in fact until John should call a second time at the manse, and prove that his knowledge of things sacred was on the increase. John duly came, but alas! no increase of knowledge came with him, and still the minister refused to name the baptismal day. In vain John pleaded that his brother and his brother's wife and various relatives had been invited, and could not decently be put off. But all in vain : the parson was obdurate. The baptism had to be delayed; the invited guests had to wait a little longer, and John had to compear at the manse again " on approbation." Once more John came, but frail memory refused still to repeat the information that the Catechism gave, and on which his wife had most perseveringly coached him, and the minister was, if possible, more obdurate than ever. John pressed the point hard ; CONVIVIALITIES OF SILLERTOX. 135 invited friends would be offended, and in fact insulted, and all that sort of thing. But no; the christening must be still delayed for reasons previously given. At last a happy thought struck the parishioner, and he at once unburdened himself of his secret. " Weel, minister, I may jist tell you the truth. Oor freens micht be put aff, bit, ye see, I hae bocht the whisky, and ye ken yourseP that whisky winna keep." My venerable friend did not enter into the whole scope of the argument that John so deftly handled, nor shall I either, but taking into account all the circumstances of the case, and after carefully coach- ing his somewhat obtuse pupil in his lesson, the worthy divine saw fit to shorten the term of purga- torial trial through which his parishioner was pass- ing; the christening was duly celebrated at the time desired, and friends and whisky were both there. As to how the good folks of Sillerton celebrated their weddings, I presume there was little difference between them and any other folks from " Maiden- kirk to John o' Groats." That little difference con- sisted, I believe, in a shortening* of tlio time, wliiiib must have been a happy relief to the newly-married couple, who, in those primitive days and places, did not start immediately after the '^ dejfMuier tl la fourchette," to spend their honeymoon amon^^st 4 1' ■, (• ^r •r' 'i If if' ^-li . 6 IT 136 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE, m ■: I r Btrangers, but who began to dispense the duties and graces of hospitality immediately after the nuptial knot had been tied. There was, of course, the usual feet-washing the night before, and all the fun connected with the performance of that preliminary portion of the mar- riage service, and shared in cliiefly by the nearer relatives and more intimate friends ; there was the gathering at the bride's home of the invited guests ; the bride in all the glory that such an occasion could supply; the groom scarcely knowing whether he stood on his head or heels; the bridesmaids and groomsmen wearing white glove:-i, and wondering what was their duty to do next; {»nd the parson, duly robed for the occasion, and presiding not only in the more sacred part of the service, but also in the merrymaking that followed the conclusion of the ceremonv. And then what fun and frolic came! How the tables verily groaned beneath the toothsome burdens that they bore ! What genial and humorous speeches were delivered as tlie fumes of the exhilarating toddy rose to the very ceiling of the banquetting room ! What sly wit and pawky humor flowed in one continuous stream from the sharpened tongues of the merry guests ; and at last, how the younger members of the community enjoyed the concluding* ^ CONVIVIALITIES OF SlLLEltTON. 137 scene of the evening's performance — if indeed three or four o'ciockln the morning; could be s(> designated — when the bride's stockinir was tin own anion jjf the revellers, and happy was the lad or hiss tliat had the good fortune to catch it ! Theii* turn undoubtedly came next. Yet, all the marriage festivities were comprised within two rounds of the clock in Sillerton, tiiougli farther north the celebration of a marriage some- times occupied nearly a week, and came to a close, only when provisions and mountain dew were both exhausted. A near relative of mine had the privilege of wit- nessing a wedding a hundred miles or so north of Sillerton, where the ceremonies were all conducted in Gaelic, where the ordinary conversation was kept up in that language, except occasionally when Eng- lish was employed in deference to the groom and liis best man, who both spoke the Doric of the Gari- och, and that only, and where my friend escaped matrimony, at least on that occasion, by what is sometimes called a "close shave." I shall allow him to tell his story in his own way : — "On one memorable occasion I witnessed a wed- ding on the banks of the Dulnan. A lad from Sil- lerton had found his fate beyond the Si>ey, and I was induced to accompany him to the home of his : t m ■ I ■I I; \ ^ ■ ^ I ! ! I 138 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE. bride. It was a long and weary road from a few miles south of Beniuiohie till Craigellachie and the riaughs of Croindcile passed, we crossed the swift- flowing Spey near Grantown, and pushed onward in the direction of the famed Aviemore. About three in the morning, in the month of May, we came in sight of our destination, but even at that uncanny hour there were no eyes closed at Carr-Bridge. One would have thought from appearances that the Prodigal Son had arrived, and that at least a dozen fatted calves had been sacrificed to welcome him. The feast had already begun, and music and dancing held high holiday. " A most cordial reception was accorded us ; Ori- ental hospitality could scarcely have surpassed in any way the welcome that met us on the banks of the Dulnan, and though the language of Ossian was not quite so familiar to us as the Doric Scotch that we had learned not far from where ' The Gadie rins at the back o' Bennachie,' yet we felt, and had every reason to feel, that we were highly honored guests. *' Resisting all temptations to indulge in a High- land fling, we soon sought the seclusion of our own rooms, and had the whole and entire company of the * Jolly Beggars' been rehearsing their celebrated cantata in the adjoining apartment, we would have remained as oblivious of their very existence as if iO.WU lAlJlJES OF SILLERTON. 139 1) 11 n n our own moLlieis bad rocked us to sleep. Soon — too soon t\)r us — the morning diiwned — dawned, I mean, when the shutters were removed — and the sun's rays proved that GUI Sol had beaten us by at least a couple of hours. ''A perfect ftt(, de juie was being fired within an easy distance of our windows; about as many pipers as the famous Fershon paraded to conquer and rav- age the Clan MacTavish seemed to be tuning their instruments in the immediate vicinity, and as your humble servant was groomsman, and deeply ven- erated the immortal Nelson's signal, * England ex- pects every man to do his duty,' we were soon ready for action. " What I or anybody else did on that memorable occasion seems to have slipped almost entirely from my recollection. I know that the old Celtic parson persisted in mistaking me for the groom. I had in fact joined hands with the blushing bride, at his urgent request, thinking that this was probably the right thing for the best man to do in the land of the Grants, until a kindly hand forbade the banns, and I at once took second place, but when that marriage commenced or ended, I am not quite prepared to say. " About a week after, I hpd a most exciting search after my Lowland garments, having evidently donned iMi J ' "" 1 ■:j '<■ f ■ n \m \\ ' i i^ii 140 SCO TTISU FOLK-L QUE. Iff the garb of old Gaul at a very early stage of tlie pro- ceedings ; and found to my surprise, by examining sundry documents that had been placed inside my sporran, that I had proposed to, and had been ac- cepted by, over a dozen young ladies of the Strath. "This, to me, was a somewhat startling revelation, and as I was not quite prepared to explain my pe- culiar position to all the stalwart fathers and broth- ers who might very soon be attempting to interview me, I beat a very precipitate retreat homewards, and as soon as possible, Craigellachie and Bennachie were by and by placed between me and the enemy. " I am not quite sure why I, on this occasion, for- got so far my usual caution. It may have been the demoralizing influence of the unseemly hours we kept; perhaps it may have been produced by the ex- traordinary stimulating nature of the mountain air in the neighboihood of the classic Spey. At all events I never attended another wedding within a day's march of Rothienmrchus ; the more staid and sober customs of a marriage in the Garioch were, like Artemus Ward's old flag, good enough for me. " I have, ever since that famous time, firmly be- lieved in the adage, that it is unwise for the shoe- maker to go beyond his last. Nay more, I had theo- rized upon the proverb, and began to think that it CONVIVIALITIES OF HILLEUTON. 141 might be better for Sillerton bachelors to keep to Sillerton belles, and if I ever again consent to aid and abet a friend in entangling himself in the nu[)- tial noose, I shall insist on a Garioch celebration, and will personally appear rather in decent Garioch continuations, than befool myself in assisting to per- form the same function arrayed in the garb of old Gaul, with a Gaelic Psalm or Pibroch or Coronach, or something of that sort, ringing in my ears, and that too a hundred miles nearer the North Pole than I should be." Such was the account that my friend gave me of his experiences at a wedding on Speyside. It will no doubt provoke a smile, his difficulty in finding a good reason for his forgetting so many circumstances connected with the celebration, as also his forgetting his Lowland caution so much as to enter into lov j engagements wholesale and retail. No doubt the pure air that was wafted to the Strath from the snowy heights and heath-clad sides of Cairngorm and Benmachdhui might have had an exhilarating effect upon a Garioch Scotsman, but there might have also been other causes. I once was one of twelve, who celebrated the open- ing of salmon-fishing on the crystal waters of the Dee by a capital dinner in one of those hotels on Deeside, that were common enough in my young A. » '. h 1 i II ! , ■ .'•ii i il ^ t' I ft i ■ \ ! 1 { i! 112 SCO IT IS II FO L K- L li E. IK 'i I I f 1 days, and wliere notliing was wanting, in the way of cither solids or liquids, to make every one as happy and contented as mortals may be. Of course, amongst many otlier luxuries, the "Salmo Salar" played a conspicuous part. Many good stories of the rod and reel were told; and a few good fishing songs were sung, and could llie gentle Tzaac have revisited the earth, he would, I flatter myself, have felt perfectly at home amongst us. It is almost needless to say that at due inter- vals the sn\all thistle circled ra[)idly round the table, and that after the wiilnuts and the wine had run their course, the rest of the evening was mainly de- voted to the mixing of those ingredients, that in days of old accompanied and closed every entertain- ment. What we brewed or drank on that occasion I shall not specify precisely, but may simply state, that not particularly long before sunrise we all wended our way, to our respective homes. Next day we met by special appointment, and it seemed that every one had some ailment that last evening's dinner ^uul given him — not anything very serious or r^ .,us, but sufficient to place him below " par." The salmon had disagreed with the digestive or- gans of several ; the pudding had been disastrous to a few more, and one or two lamented that they If !1 CONVIVIALITIES OF SILLEliTON. US never indulged in cheese without proving mutyrs to their indiscretion the following day. One thing struck me as very j^eculiar, nnmely, that none for a moment suspected that the . ^ry lib- eral allowance of barley bree that they had con- sumed had any hand in their troubles. And yet, after all, I strongly suspect, that had a jury given a verdict upon the evidence before tliem, the fisli, pud- ding, and cheese would have been declared innocent, and that a true bill would have been found against John Barleycorn. Is it possible that tlie peat-reek had anything to do witli my fiiend's peculiar con- duct on the banks of the Spey ? I presume, after all, that the exhilaration was more due to its po- tency than to even the pure air of the Strath. Times, doubtless, have changed now, but the last time I spent a few days in that quarter of the globe, a guest at the hospitable shooting quarters of a world-renowned English brewer, tlie first vision of the morning was the head-keeper with some genu- ine mountain dew to " wasli down," as he said, " the cobwebs that had accumulated during the night." When a sportsman got wearied beyond his strength, breasting the rocks and braes in pursuit of the often- times wild and scared red grouse, the same panacea was at hand with the remark that one spur in the head was better than two in the heel ; and the last 111 i ; i 1 I 144 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE. thing at night was the liquid and aroiuatic night- cup— unfailing herald of that sweet and unhrf»k«;n slumber, that in those days, or perhaps nights wa should say, we never missed. Ah! well may v. y say with the old Roman Burns — Tempora mutantur, et nos mutamur in ittii. ^n n OTHER SlLLEiiTON AMUiiEMENTiS. 145 CHAPTER XVI. OTHER SILLERTON AMUSEMENTS — THE SOCIETY OF GARDENERS. I hear them still, unchanged — though some from earth Are music parted, and the tones of mirth — Wild, silvery tones, that rang through days more bright ! Have died in others, yet to me they come, Singing of boyhood back — the voices of my home ! Hemans, Were it for no other reason than to look up the old records of the parish, I would fam revisit Siller- ton. But what records, after all, could I look into, except those of the kirk-session, and I scarcely think that T would find there anythhig like a paragraph headed, "One of the amusements of Sillerton." I might find the record, carefully and circum- stantially told, of grave offences against the laws of the kirk, and morality in general ; T might learn, if I did not know before, how tlie kirk-session dealt with transgre.ssors, who certainly in those days " found tlieir ways hard ;" well and faithfully would I find it recorded that some incorrigible black sheep had to occupy the " cutty stool," or seat of repent- 10 11^ i :| >' f if' 1 liG aCOTTlSU FOLK-LORE. 11 I 1^ Hi t I ance, sometimes for many consecutive Sundays, and receive ilie public rebuke of the stern minister, and the sour and unrelenting looks of many an old saint, who had himself, perchance, turned over a new leaf, and, clothed in his robes of self-righteousness, had forgotten the warning, "Judge not, that ye be not judged." Sitting at that session table, now many years ago, not as judge or jury, but as a simple scribe wielding not the tongue but the pen ; listening to sobs that came from the very depths, and seeing tears that did not merely trickle, but freely flowed over young, yet careworn cheeks, my thoughts wandered back to that grand old Temple of Jerusa- lem, whose greatest glory was, that it saw Ilim who came to carry back the wandering lambs to the sheep-fold. A woman, bowed down with grief, and perchance remorse, bends before One who traces letters on the sand, indicating probably the ease with which rec- ords of sin might or should be blotted out, and utterly disregarding the stern faces that accused their frail sister, and demanding a judgment upon lier sin. At length a voice says— "He that is with out (this) sin, let him cast the first stone at hei." The shaft has struck home, and one by one her accusers silently steal away. "When the Saviour IT OTHER SILLEHTON AMUiSEMEJ^TS. 147 looks up, none but the accused is there, and ten- derly come the words from His gentle lips — " Neither do I condemn thee. Go, and sin no more." Ah ! how much more kindly was that erring one dealt with in the Jewish temple, than many an erring but repentant sinner in the auld kirk of Sillerton ! Such scenes would, unbidden, flit before my mind, and refuse to be driven away. They relentlessly left the stamp of an iron heel upon my soul ; they came to stay, and with little effort I can recall, alas ! too many of them otill. AVell, I might, and certainly would, find recorded, tersely and coldly, such scenes as I have hinted at, but of any mere worldly amusements, or things of that nature, no, not one line. And yet Sillerton had its gala days, when the parish put on its best looks, and work was pretty much at a standstill. There, for example, was the one great Fair that came once a year to gladden the hearts of not only the Sillertonians, but those of the neigliboring parishes as well. Tliere was, how- ever, an object in the great annual Fair. Farmers gathered from all cpiarters to l)ny and sell ; servants were engaged for t!je coming half-year luid r<;ceiv('d the "arles" that were as binding nearly as the Queen's shilling. Jockey was able to buy ribbons •'' i . if s n I ' : Is \ ; !i 148 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE. to tie up Jeannie^s " bonnie brown hair ; " quarrels between rivals in the paths of love or war were either settled over a few glasses of Sillerton whisky, or decided with gloveless hands, in a fight to the finish, and according to some rules well-known t(» all, and which probably formed the basis of the Marquis of Queensbury's rules; and last, but not least, the annual Fair gave the boys and girls that usually attended the parish school of Sillerton a full and genuine holiday. We can readily see the "why" and "wherefore" in all this, but in the case of the great annual meet- ing and grand parade of the Sillerton Gardeners, I was never able to fathom the cause of their existence in any shape whatever. This society, if it might be so called, is amongst the shadows of the past, and it requires some effort to recall it very clearly. Like the shadows whose hands ^neas attempted to grasp in Hades, and who eluded hirn like a flit- ting dream, so appear now these shadowy Giii- deners to me. As Wordsworth has it in his "Laodamia": " Forth sprang the impassioned Queen lior Lord to clasp ; Again that consummation she essay'd ; But unsubstantial form eludes her grasp As often as that eager grasp was made," \imt»,im€mm OTHER SJLLERTON AMUSEMENTS. 149 :s . And yet all is not mere shadow, and some figures rise above the ordinary level, like liiiltops over a fog-covered landscape. The origin, howevei", and some other points connected with the Gardeners' Society of Sillerton, for a society it was really named, must remain, I fear, in profound obscurity. It is liliely enough tliat when Sillerton Paradise was planned, and became an accomplished fact, with life-size figures of Adam and Eve, half-hidden amongst the yew-tree branches, the Gardeners may have been organized to represent some visiting com- mittee of good or evil. This, at all events, I do know, it was at least no benefit society, but the funds and dues collected at the annual parade were simply transferred from the pockets to the stomachs of the Gardeners, the ex- penses of the annual dinner requiring all the funds on hand, and rendering a cash account quite un- necessary. This parade took place, I believe, about midsum- mer, at any rate when flowers were in their highest perfection, and in the village and neighborhood there were great preparations made for the gather- ing. Floral designs were then in order, and to our juvenile imaginations it seemed very wonderful, what the artistic talent of Sillerton could produce in that line. These designs were a'^ ready the ! 'fil * .if i ,; « K fii 'Hii J 150 SCOTTliiU FQLK-LOHE, evening before, and made their appearance only when tlie floral warriors were ready to march. At last the eventful day dawned. There was a distant sound of music, if not of revelry ; the brass band of Oldnieldruni weavers had been engag-ed for the occasion, and scouts, who were out in force on such an exciting time, reported that the musicians had already crossed at Boaty's Ferry, and were now approaching the village in full blast. It would be difficult to say whether the cattle in the Druid Park or the youngsters of the village were the more impressed and delighted. I use the expression advisedly, for surely if dolphins could be charmed by the lyre of Orpheus, the bovines of Sillerton became equally suscei)til)le of pleasing impressions at the brazen blasts of the Oldmeldrum weavers. And there in the village square stood the venerable Gardeners with flowers and banners and spears ready to receive them. The author of the " Siller Gun " must have had such a vision before his mind's eye when penning the lines : " But ne'er, for uniform or air, Was sic a group reviewed elsewhere I The short, the tall ; fat folk and spare ; Syde coats, and doc^kit, Wigs, queues, and clubs, and curly hair ; Round hats, and cockit 1 OTUER SILLERTON AMUSEMENTS. 151 Wr that the dinlin drums rebound, Fifes, clarionets, and hautboys sound ! Tlirough crowds &n crowds, collected round, The Corporations Trudge off, while Eclio's self is drowned In acclamations ! Whether there was a special costume besides the aprons that the members wore, and on which anude Adam and Eve, the Serpent, and an apple-tree in full bearing, were all depicted in the most cunning siimpler stitch that the parish maidens could supply, I know not ; but there was one figure there that I remember as if I had seen him only yesterday. Sourie, as he was familiarly called from Sourfauld, the name of his little farm, seemed, for some reason or other, to have been appointed perpetual Brigadier- General. An old man then was Sourie, but still straight as a ramrod, and approaching the heroic in height. There were few opportunities for training orators in Sillerton, but had there been, Sourie would certainly have borne the bell. I recollect some of the old man's quaint sayings, and there was a very marked difference between them and the utterances that came from his less gifted neighbors. Perhaps, were I ever to visit the churchyard of the old parish T might trace the rudely-carved lines that tell where llu' farmer of I ■ fi i '. It- \ I ! I M t I lo2 SCOTTISJI FOLK-LOHE. Sourfauld was gathered to liis fathers, and not inap- propriately repeat the line — " Some mute, inglorious Milton hore may rest." It is with the live Sourie, however, that I am now dealing, and as he stands there at the head of the Gardeners of Sillerton. But what a wonderful metamorphosis has taken place, and who would recognize the plainly-clad and somewliat patched tenant of Sourfauld in the towering Goliath who directs the movements of the Gardeners ? The bearskin cap of a Life-Guardsman would liave hid its diminished head before the lofty headpiece that Sourie wore. Who designed it, or why it was so designed, has not been written amongst the chronicles of Sillerton. The Spartan warrior who fell in battle was borne home upon his shield. Was it possible that the Sil- lerton designer of martial garments knew something of ancient history, and moved by the careful thrift of his own countrymen, and profiting by the recol- lection of Spartan adaptation, so constructed the helmets of our local warriors that, should the wearer fall in battle, he might be easily and eco- nomicjiUy buried in his capacious headgear? A bright scarlet coat, somewhat resembling what our fighting forefathers wore about a half-century ■■I OTHER SIL L Kli Toy A M I. > KM K\ I S. ir>:j before, covered the greater part of tlie olon^aled form of the coinmander-iii-chief, and partly eoncciiled a pair of gigantic boots that resembled vtMy miu.h those worn by swashbucklers in the time of Ciom- well, while a remarkably long sword com})letcd the outfit, so far at least as my memory warrants a description. Whence that sword came has often been a source of wonder to my boyhood days. C'ould it havf been found near Wallace Xenk in the brave toon o' Uon- Accord ? Might some local antiquary have lent it for the occasion, or did the village blacksmith, in a moment of high warlike s[)iiit, desij^n and fashion the ti^'- rible weapon that, like the helmet of Navarre, blazed as a guiding star in front of the Gardeners, who now, to the clang of maitial music, tramjied around the village s(piar{', and four deep, ma relied straight through the sliady walks ot the home park to the House of Sillerton, the residence of the Hon- orary Chief of the Gardeners, and where the com- mander-in-chief and his men went thiough a species of royal salute? Poor Sourie! when I recall the old man to my memory, I think of him as Oliver Wen- dell Holmes thought of his so-called " Last Leaf " : — " I know it ia a sin For iiie to yit aiid grin S* t! i\ I •4i i i; 154 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE. At him here ; Put the old three-cornered hat, And the breeches, and all that, Are so queer ! " Oil the conclusion of these preliminary exercises, prizes were given for the best floral designs, slight refreshments were handed round, the patron's health was drunk in a bumper of good Scotch, three ring- ing elieers were given, and to the inspiring music of the brass band, whose whistles had now been duly moistened, tlie Ancient Gardeners wended their way back to the village. Probably the gentle reader may here be ready to say, " We are done with the Gardeners now." Not by any means. The parade is over, flags and spears, and aprons, drums, fifes, and swords are laid aside, but the real business of the Gardeners of Sillerton is now only begiiniing. I have heard it said, that after all, the Gardeners of Sillerton were incorporated simply to enjoy a dinner once a year in the roomy dining-room of the Giimut Arms. This may or may not be the case, but I certahdy knew one individual who joined the society for this special ol)ject, and for no other. "Protty," as he was nicknamed, was one of the characters of the locality, and while usually leading a sober and industrious life, yet, on high occasions, OTUEn SILLKliTOX AMrsKMKXTS. 1.'.') got somewhat befuddled, and on the occasion of tlio Gardeners' dinner got gloriously fou. Protty, like Lazarus of old, got few of the good things of this life, but he determined that at least once a year there should be an exception to the rule, and cheerfully paid his annual subscription toenjf y the coveted luxuries of the annual dinner. And what a dinner was there! The season fu* haggis had not yet come, but haggis was quite a common dish in the locality, and did not exercise that influence upon the salivaiy glands that it does upon Scotchmen in foreign lands, who meet to enjoy that great national dish once a year, namely, on the natal day of Scotland's patron saint. But beef and greens were there ; mighty rounds fit to set befoie a Queen; fish, fowl, and all the etceteras that in tiiose days went to constitute a feast that was re- quired by, and demanded too, a vigorous appetite. It was verily "strong meat for strong men." I»nt how much of these luxuries fell to the lot of poor Protty ? The fact was that the wags of Siller- ton — and their name was " Legion " — knowing Protty's relish for good things, had so ordered it that not one of the luxuries should reach, in Protty's case, their legitimate destination. Protty was able, during the progress of the dinner, to enjoy the nips of whisky that followed, or perhaps accompanied, ., I: -■'I ! I' ■ ii 1 i I M\ 1 T iii 156 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE. l; iiiii certuiii courses, but a dish of mashed turnips, lieavily sweetened with sugar, and i(*i)lenislied again and again, was all that Protly was permitted to enjoy, l*roLty being too obfuscated l»y repeated liba- tions to see the trick that was being phiyed upon him. Such was oneof the standing, prnetleal, and j)eren- nial jokes that were relished i)i tliose dnys, and doubtless very heartily laughed at by those who cheated the Ancient Gardener of his due. That all this was very reprehensible who will deny, yet, personally, I feel no responsibility. I promised to paint Sillerton, not as it should have been, but simply as it was, and I doubt not there are some yet amongst the denizens of the parish,who, if they ever cast their eyes upon this page will lemem- ber well the stalwart frame and honest, homely speech of the leader of the Ancient Gardeners — Hourie of Sourfauld : and as they revive the story of the mashed turnips — the only dish partaken of by the fuddled Gardener— will not the phrase— the well-known, the oft-repeated phrase — be repeated again—" Pretty ! Pretty ! Sandy Mackie " ? TUE WAU6 OF THE HOSES. 157 CITAPTEUXVII. 'A THK WAllS OF THE UOSKS. " Sparo your comparisons," replied An angry Rose, wlio grew beside ; " Of all mankind you should not flout us ; What can a pool do without us? In every love-song roses bloom ; We lend you color and jierfume." — Jo:'iN Gay. Fkak not, gentle render ; the humble liistoiiun of Sillerton's quiet ways luis no intention of appro- priating the pen of a Maeaulay or a Napier, and whisking you off to the great battlelieldsof Ilindos- tan or of Merrie England. A theme more becomhig an Aberdeenshire chron- ieler, were he martially inclined, might bu found nearer home, and doubtless he would tind a suitable subject for his talent in the "sair field o' liar- law"— *' When Donald came branking down the brae Wi' twenty thousjind men." Our "Wars of the Hoses" were simply the friendly competitions that took place at the annual meeting of the Gardeners of Sillerton, between our ^i 1- ( 1^ in 158 SCOTTISH FOLK-LOltE. riviil horticulturists, and where the rose, }mr excel- knee., played ii very prominent part. Indeed, before dismissing tlie parade of the said Gardeners, if I have not already done so, I have one incident more to relate, without which my narrative, to me, at least, would seem incomplete. I have already remarked the extraordinary in- terest that the Gardeners' Day excited both in village and district. The local amateur horticult- urists — and there were several such in the neighbor- hood, who, in addition to success in growing their favorites, possessed the art as well ()f arranging tlicm in l>eautiful forms and combiiuitions — had a peculiarly deep interest in the day. Apart from the pleasure that success would bring, there was, in addition, the satisfaction that the money value of the prizes won would also alfoi'd. And thas there was a double stimulant supplied. Secretly each competitor formed his i»hins and carried them out. Xo State secret was more jeal- ously guarded than his, and no rival, or indeed any- body else, would be allowed to obtain the faintest glimpse of the mere skeleton that now, bare and unintei'esting, would, on the great niarslialling day of the Gardeners, stand in the Sillerton Square arrayed in all the beauty that a rainbow robe of exquisite flowers would lend. THE WAR^ OF THE HOSES, 169 Truly Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. The interest also wms of a double character., and that of the competitor was shared by all the boys of Sillerton. We had each of us our favorite, and liini wo were pledged to aid and abet to tlie best of our ability. I fancy 1 hear one saying — "But in whnt way could aid be given ? " Well, that is an easy matter to explain. While the embryo floral crown, or whatever device it might be, was complete in every part — complete in so far as the mere skeleton or framework conld be called complete — yet its flowery robes and adorn- ments must needs bo all julded on the morniiif^- of the parade. And thus we became jackals to the lion. We arranged beforehand with non-conipeti- tors, who would, early on the morning of the event- ful day, give us the gleanings, nay, the whole yield, of their gardens. The friend who j)iovidcd me with my floral liibute was known in the parisli by the name of General Hay. Let me now intioduce the old man. Upwards of six feet in height, at least four.score years of age, yet unbent by time or infirmity, tlie General has anticipated our errand, and is already in his garden awaiting our arrival. lie greets is kindly and smiles as ho marks the number of 'i H if J III ;^l! IGO tiCO Til S II FOLK-LORE. \ 1 baskets we carry, tor I liad secured a partner in tlie carrying business, and the said baskets conveyed the gentlest of hints that our demands upon his flower-garden would not by any means be of a modest nature. I believe, however, he took this as a complimeni, and had he been possessed of the Oriental "CJardens of Gul," or been entitled to glean Mount Ilybla's roses, he would have culled every flower, rather than send us away unsatisfied. As to the old gentleman's habiliments, a pair of knee-breeches, with long tight stockings, and buckled shoes, as a continuation, finished his outfit as to the lower extremities, and showed a pair of long, thin legs that harmonized admirably with his "tout en- semble." The coat had a half military look, showing a very capacious and high collar, and extending nearly to his knees. The well-buttoned vest did not allow much of liis breast linen to be seen, but this was more than equalized by a remarkably high shirt collar that rose above the ears. I never saw such another but once, when I made one of ray first visits to Aberdeen. The amount of cloth ai'ound the indi- vidual's ne(!k induced me to ask his name^ and my companion informed me that the wags hac' : if, ] >■ ^i ' ii/ ^^, ^%. 0^\^^ IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) 1.0 I.I m Ilia ■i IM ^1 m IM |||M 1 2.0 1.8 1.25 1.4 1.6 M 6" — ► V] f^^/ % v^ ^ I: '../ ! I ill if i| 170 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE. It is needless to say that this process went on much ill the siiiDc wjiy till the end of the twelve months. Thestory mcanlimo had got wind, and every young- ster who could find an excuse for purchasing the suiallest article contrived to be in the village store just about the hour when Dick generally put in an appearance, and almost invariably with a pair of dilapidated !)oots. - Everybody enjoyed the chagrin of poor Baggs, who was the butt of the parii:h for a twelvemonth and more, and no happier man was there in Sillerton than he when the boot contract was eventually and finally closed. Curiosity tried hard to worm out of Baggs the exact state of his account in this boot transaction, but the village shopkeeper declined to respond ; silent was l>aggs as a very oyster; he pre- ferred to keep his own secret, and the village book- keepers succeeded in arriving only at an approxi- mation. It was well known, however, that the balance was on the wrong side of " Profit and Loss, " at least so far as Baggs was concerned. Probably a Yankee might have guessed that the boot was on the wrong leg. The only one that had reason to regret the closing of the boot-contract was my pony Donald. When Baggs' boots ceased to be worn on con- tract, Donald's services were on demand once more, PUACTICAL JOKIJUS AT WORK. 171 5h and Saturday afternoons now found him no longer enjoying his ease in liis cosy stall, but on a return trip from the back of Hejinachie, and alternately carrying on his back his light-weight master, and :i somewhat sturdier rider, who no longer wore boot ; supplied by contract, and who now enjoyed a "lift ' on his Saturday trip homeward. After all Baggs was only a little in advance of his age, and was a true type of those who sell everything, from a " needle to an anchor, " and who would feel ashamed were they unable to supply on demand an umbrella or a sentry box. " He had a fouth o' auld nick-nackets, Rusty aim caps and jinglin' jackets, Wad baud the Lothians three in tackets, Atowmont guid, And parritch-pats and auld saut-baokett : Before the Flood." ' I » ' II ' ; y ■■Ml -''I i ii. I! 172 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE, Ii CHAPTER XIX. THE WINNING LEG. Ae market night Tarn had got planted unco right ; Fast by an ingle bleezin' finely, Wi' reaming swats that drank divinely, Tam o' Shanter. Had I the intention of being mysterious, I could scarcely have adopted a better heading to this chapter than I liave done. The winning card might be easily understood, even in the quiet village of Sillerton, where a friendly rubber was played by the upper ten in the manse parlor or in the gentleman- farmer's drawing-room, and where " catch- the- ten " was the favorite game amongst the lads and lasses of the parish, with a touch " of old maid " now and then indulged in, just to vary the entertainment. The winning horse might also be understood, when farmer bodies, with sharper spurs in their heads than on their heels, occasionally tried the mettle of their nags. But the winning leg was out of the ordinary run of the village vocabulary, and would have puzzled THE Wr^NING LEG. 173 a Sillertonian as iiiuch as a quadratic equation would have done a celebrated Aberdeen professor, who never got past the golden rule of three, but whose fervid eloquence has roused Scotchmen to enthusi- asm from John O'Groats to wherever Scotchmen are known, and that means the " warr ower." Well, it will be in order now to explain, but I claim the privilege ot telling my story in my own way. As was said in a previous chapter, the Inver- urie markets, which I think were of monthly oc- currence, were a source of pleasure and profit to the business folks of Sillerton, and groups of these, mounted on their bob-tailed nags (for the blood horse had scarcely yet become a favorite amongst our rugged hill roads, and the gig or phaeton was put into requisition only when ladies were in the case), were to be scon trotting along quietly and doucely towards the ancient burgh. I would not say that the pace homeward in the evening was quite so quiet and formal, but this might be easily accounted for by the fact known to every naturalist, that the horse on the home-stretch is a much fleeter animal than when his head is turned away from his own oat-bin. The Rev. Sydney Smith, of happy memoiy, who lived for years in Edinburgh, where there were lit- erary giants in those days, and who yet gravely ■J ■) ('- i: !'■ V- t 'I, . : ■ I it m w !^' 174 btO TT1.SI[ FOL K-L OR E. V ■■' f II ii;;5 asserted tliat it would require a surgical operation to get a j that such should be. Opinion, indeed, leant exactly in the other way. I once heard a very jieculiar exemplification of this. A well-to-do farmer was boasting that he at least had never come home from ;i market in that happy and exhilarated state. Ilis wife, a lady of the highest culture, and certainly one of the leaders of fashion in the parish, but withal possessed of a considerable amount of homely Scotch humor, very naively replied to her husband's boast, " Well, George, and if you did sometimes, I would not think a bit the less of you." Did it follow that she would have thought the more ? I often joined the cavalcade as a matter, not of business, but of pleasure, and if I did not learn much about the price and quality of different sorts of grain, nor of those agricultural questions that were often keenly discussed, even in the saddle, I yet gleaned some knowledge of human nature, that may have sometimes helped me in after-life. On our arrival the horses were usually stabled at a well-known hostelry within the burgh, and there, towards evening, when all market business was at an end, the riders met to enjoy the stirrup-cup before mounting their nags for the homeward ride. Maybe strict veracity might suggest that cup should be used in the plural number, as there were occasions when Tom Ledingham^s blend rendered it some- a. :i II if^l i 176 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE. ■ '■? i\ i 1 1 1 what difficult to leave the table just at the end of the first tumbler. Stories, too, did not always (luite fit the emptying of the glasses, and the equalizinj^ of the two things often cost time and money botli, when an "eke" had to be taken to get ends to meet. One evening matters were precisely in this stale, and a Sillertou farmer, to twit mine host of tlie Elphinstone Arms, would persist in telling funny things about Inverurie, and, amongst others, a story of one of the local clergy who had preached lately in the neighboring church, very soon after the close of a keenly-contested election of bailies and other officials for the burgh. Things had not gone precisely in accordance with the minister's political views, and probably he would have preferred to take no notice whatever of the magistracy that now sat very conspicuously before him. The custom, however, was, in the closing prayer, to pray for those in authority over us, and custom in the Auld Kirk was like a law of the Medes and Persians, " it altered not." The minister duly conformed to the custom, and pray he did, but in a way that doubtless failed to excite the admiration of the subjects of his supplications, "God bless the Magistrates o' this ancient burgh, sic as they are." One roar of laughter from the Sillertonians greeted this anecdote, and mine host had to own TUE wiNyiya le(;. 177 that the tale had been truthfully told. One story led to another, one of which referred to feats of strength that the narrator had witnessed, and this probably tempted the landloid, who was a man of ponderous dimensions, to wager a bottle of hot Scotch, that his leg would measure, round the calf, more than that of any man in the company. At first no one seemed inclined to take up the challenge, but at length a farmer who lived near us, and who was certainly the smallest man in the room, called out, " Tam, I'll tak' your bet, man." Sim Eddie was our neighbor, and I quietly at- tempted to dissuade him from his rash offer, but to no purpose. He was resolute, and I was ap- pointed judge or umpire. The landlord's leg was produced and duly taped, and from appearances no one doubted but that little Sim would have to foot the bill, for no one thought that he could possibly leg it. Nothing daunted, Sim in turn presented his leg for measurement, but, ye gods ! what a leg was there ! We were all amazed, and any measurement seemed unnecessary, but yet the tape had to do its duty, and Eddie's leg took two inches of the line more than Tom's. This settled the matter, and the bottle of hot Scotch was a free stirrup-cup to the farmers of Sillerton, i ' '.I ! «. 'I t II I tii 178 fiCOTTLiU FOL K-LO li E. w t\ ^ ,; 1 'c As we rode homeward I could not help wonder- ing how it WHS possible that so small a man should have so larj^e a leg, and, sidling up to the winner of the l)et, I plumped the question, " How does it hap- pen, Sim, that you have so big a leg?" The honest farmer answered me at once, " Weel, laddie, I'll jist tell you. Ye'll recollect I had ance the scarlet fivver, an' got a' richt again ; bit the dregs o't settled in that leg. That's jist it ; bit eh, man, wasna I frichtened that I wad liae to exhibit the ither ane, for as sure's death it's a perfect spindleshank ! " The reader may readily conceive the merriment that rose at the explanation. l}ut the joke did not end here exactly. It oozed out over the whole countryside, for Ledingham v/as well known through- out the bounds of the Garioch, and the badgering he got over that leg- wager was enough to kill any ordi- nary man. It worked, however, in a different way with the host of the Elphinstone Arms. In fact, Ledingham nearly killed two commercial travellers who had carried their quizzing rather far, and after some time it came to be understood generally, and particularly amongst the farmers of Sillerton, that, in the matter of the "Winning Leg," silence was golden, and would undoubtedly prove a winning card, at least in one of the hotels in the neiojhborhood of Inverurie. THE MINISTKH^S CHRISTMAS DINNER, lid '■» CHAPTEK XX. w- r ■ it: } THE MINISTER 8 CHRISTMAS DINNER. And now farewell each dainty dish, With sundry sorts of sugared wine ! Farewell, I say, fine flesh and fish, To please this dainty mouth of mine ! I now, alas, must leave all these, And make good cheer with bread and cheese ! —Breton. The Rev. Robert Fordyce, minister of Sillcrton, was a douce, sober man in every way — the last man in the woi'ld to poke fun at anybody, and the very last, certainly, who should have been the victim of a practical joke. Tlie festive season was now ap- proaching, and his reverence hud been duly invited to eat his sixtieth Christinas dinner at the liospi- table table of a parishioner, the tenant of Milton. Invitations in those days did not contain the cabalistic letters, " R.S.V.P.," but yet tiie Reverend Robert had forwarded his acceptance, and had every intention of honoring the entertainment with his presence. The guidwife of Milton soared soniewluit above the ordinary run of farmers' wives. She liad seen li *,*■ '■ n ■\ii i '^ I! li uc, m i\ ! i.. 180 HSCOTTISU FOLK-LORE, a little of the world beyond the boundary line of Sillerton, and she dearly loved, on occasion, to see a choice company enjoying themselves round her groaning mahogany. And so the minister and a few other favored ones were invited to eat their Christmas dinner at Milton. But here it behoves us to introduce another char- acter upon the scene. No minister was ever com- plete without his man, and even the Scriptural fox-tail stoiy could scarcely have been told, witliout a minister to preach, and a minister's man to whistle. Gentle reader, allow me to introduce to you John Sprot, the minister's man. John, indeed, was no ordinary man. From boyliood he had served the clergy, and if not yet arrived at the years of discretion, certainly from the influence of precept and example he should have reached that goal long ago. John had, in fact, become manse and glebe prop- erty, and in that capacity had described a circle, a sort of ecclesiastical circle, throughout tlie bounds of the Presbytery, until he now found himself gen- eral managev for Mr. Fordyce of Sillerton, delving ic the manse garden, cultivating the glebe generally, and when his master, who was no Jehu, held his annual "catechizing" throughout the parish, or once on a while accepted an invitatioD to dinner, TUE MIS IS TEIV s C Hit Is TMA S DINNER. 1 « 1 driving him in tlie old gig that liad now for more than a quarter of a century been the admiration of tlie little boys of Sillerton. But just here the question naturally arises — Why had not Sprot settled down in one favored spot? Why was John still a rolling stone that gathers no moss? Well, there is a delicacy in the answer that the writer of this humble imrrative feels keenly, but yet the truth, the >ober truth, must be told. John Sprot was, in fact, a . No, I don't exactly mean that, but while Joliii was a strong advocate of temperance, yet the flesh was sometimes weak, and so it happened iliat, on a few occasions, John hi J been what Scotch folks kindly call "overtaken." The consequence of this was that when his i*ev- erence then weighed his man in the scales of sobriety, and found him \^'anting, i)astures new had to be looked for, and another manse door closed behind him forever. During, however, one of John's escapades, an acci- dent had converted one of his seemly legs into some- thing resembling an arc of a circle, and while this gave him a most peculiar style of perambulation, even in his soberest seasons, yet it was generally believed that good would come of it, and that his conduct in the future would be as straight as his lower member was crooked. 1 I ] t 'I :'^i i il 182 SCOTTISU FOLK-LORE. ii m i M:l A whole year, last Martinmas, had come and gone, a!]d John Sprot was still the minister's man of Sil- leiton. If temptation had come, it had evidently also been snccessfiilly resisted, and the more ob- servant of the villagers had begun to express an opinion, that John might close his earthly career in the cosy manse of Siilerton. Alas ! how weak is human nature at best — but no, we must not antici- pate. The day of Milton's dinner-party came, and, if great preparations were made by the guidwife of iMilton, the minister's man was far from idle. Under the genial influence of soap-suds and an abundant supply of elbow-grease, the ancient gig had actually renewed its age, and the old gray, through the persuasive action of a new curry-comb, had parted with a few pounds of that fur which, if it increased warmth, at the same time very mate- rially diminished speed. John felt somewhat ex- hausted with his unwonted exertions, but experienced a keen satisfaction in the reflection that man, horse, and gig were ready for action. Seating himself upon an old wheelbarrow that stood invitingly near, he contemplated with con- siderable satisfaction his work, and, as he lighted his pipe, and began to feel the influence of the subtle narcotic, he felt supremely happy, and it is at least TIJ}': MINISTJ'Ji'6 CURISTMAS DIN N Eli. ISJi doubtful, had the change been possible, if at that moment he Avould have exchanged places with the Reverend Robert Fordyce of Sillerton. Just then a small callant that ran messages about the village appeared on the scene, and intimated to JoiiU, that Marshal Graham, now manager of the Sillerton distillery, requested to see hiin with the least possible delay. Graham was a confirmed prac- tical joker, and seldom did a week pass without some new cantrip on his part that set the whole country side roaring with laughter. Sprot, impressed with the seeming importance of the message, hesitated not for a moment, but at once proceeded to the office, where he was received with marked courtesy. Graham informed him with the utmost gravity that last night he had been grossly insulted by the land steward, James Power, and, knowing John's character for probity and caution, he requested him to carry to Power a note demand- ing an immediate apology, failing which he said he believed the matter would end in bloodshed. John was considerably dumfounded by this start- ling intelligence, but a sense of the confidence placed in him, along with a horn of Sillerton's best dew, nerved him for his delicate mission, and awjiy he went to deliver the somewhat hostile note. Having read the threatening message. Power pretended to get Hi .; I! i l| Ij 1 a ! T i ! I ■ ■f I ii ih'. 1 184 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE. into a terrible passion, tearing the letter in pieces and swearing that blood alone could settle the dis- pute between them. A reply was instantly penned, and, charged with another horn of the same generous sedative that he had swallowed only a few minutes before, John soon placed Power's note in Graham's hands. The fact was, that the two worthies, knowing that the minister was due that evening at Milton, con- ceived the brilliant idea of putting John Sprot hors de combat^ and so spoil the parson's dinner, seeing that it was an established fact that the old gentle- man could no more drive a horse and buggy, than lie could have directed the manoeuvres of an ironclad. Back and forth went Sprot ; letter after letter was wiitten by the two belligerents, horti followed horn with the now decidedly obfuscated minister's man, until Milton's Christmas dinner had passed from his memory like a flitting dream. The bailey bree that makes some men pugnacious, only softened the teuderest sensibilities of John's heart. He fancied that he was engaged in tlie noble work of pouring oil on troubled waters; witiiour bis in- dividual efforts, human blood might have been shed, and, feeling thus, we fear the malt got aboon the meal ; the heartless jokers were only loo successful, and the apostle of peace fell before the syren bland- THE MINISTER'S CHRISTMAS DINNER. 185 ishments of Sillerton's ripest — mellowest — purest mountain dew. But where was the Reverend Ilobert Ft rdyce nil this time? He had seen the earlier exertions of his faithful servant ; he had watched from the manse windows the marked progress of John's work ; the old gray looked as if the vagaries of colthood might be again assumed; the antiquated gig reminded the douce parson that correct truly was Keats wlien he penned the line : — *' A thing of beauty is a joy for ever," and dreaming of no malign influence to cross his path, he resigns himself to pleasing waking dreams of many a merry Christmas that he had seen and kept, before the manse was still and lonely as now ; when childish voices and pattering feet ^ere wont to reach unchallenged his own quiet snuggery, and before he had known what it was to read a portion of one's own history on the mossgrown stone that he could even now see from the study window. But dreaming will scarcely clothe the minister of Sillerton for his Christinas dinner. And so he besti is himself anew. The decent broadcloth becomes his rounded figure well; the shirt front, heavily ruflled, looks like the driven snow; a chain, resplendent with keys and seals, passes to and forth across his breast ; 'i -.1 180 SCOTTISa FOLK-LORE. m and with feet encased in warm overshoes, and closely buttoned in a ponderous overcoat that two maiden daughters arrange lovingly around him, the Reverend Mr. Fordyce smiles kindly upon his surroundings, and, passing through his hall to the gravelled walk in front, takes his first step in the direction of his Cliristmas dinner. But where was Jolm Sprot now? Where the ren- ovated gig ? Where the rejuvenated gray ? The minister j^eers curiously towaids the manse stables, lie sees something approaching, but not precisely what he expected. The horse and gig v/ere just as they should be, but, alas ! John Sprot, the minister's man, was where no minister's man should be, at least when under orders to drive his master to a Christmas dinner. , John had been placed, by officious hands doubt- less, upon the back of the gallant gray, but there was assuredly a bar-sinister in his surroundings — his face was towards tlie tail, and two callants, who had evidently been engaged for the occasion, were trying as best they could, to enable the driver to i)reserve his equilibrium, and to direct at the same time the movements of the astonished gray towards the manse door. One gljvnce at the strange procession was enough for the minister, who quickly sought and found THE MINISTER'S CHRISTMAS DINNER. 187 again the privacy of his own chamber ; the now irate maidens divested him of his more outside cover- ings ; the immaculate black was speedily exchanged for less pretentious garments ; and instead of the savory turkey and ham, with all the et-ceteras that flUed and adorned, that evening, the groaning table of the tenant of Milton, our douce minister was per- force content to dine on a cold joint that had done duty on the manse table the day before. ITow the gig, the gray, and John Sprot (we here, for conscientious reasons, reverse the order of pre- cedence) found their due and allotted places I know not. 1 do know that John awoke the day after Christmas " a sadder but a wiser man." This, how- ever, was a season of mutual forbearance ; forgive- ness was asked and found; the meny wags were inclined to own that they luul carried the joke a little too far ; and in after-years, when the Reverend liobert Fordyce dispensed, on special and favored occasions, the blessings that covered his own table, he sometimes condescended to tell the story, with a slightly sad and pensive smile, how it happened that he missed his ^lilton dinner, on that now long-past Christmas day. I need hardly say that Sprot's escapade was not so quickly forgotten by the jovial Sillertonians, as it was forgiven by the kindly minister, and the jokea M 188 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE, that were cracked on the occasion, and the excruci- ating qnizzing to wliieh John was subjected, could scarcely be borne by the victim wiih genuine equanimity. Tlie fact also that it occurred at a time when con- vivialities were in order, drew more attention to it than had it happened at a busier season, and often at bachelor dinners, long after, have I heard a song sung, recounthig John's Yuletime adventure, that local talent had both composed and set to music. There were three stanzas of this song, two of which my memory had faithfully retained ; one had irrevocably, at least so far as I was concerned, passed away. An esteemed correspondent, however, living near the locality, and who, when very sliglitly prompted, recollected all the circumstances of the case, sent me the missing verse — strange to say, the only one he could call to mind. I am tlius able to supply the three verses, wnich, perhai)s, are curious enough to prove of interest to individuals fond of "folk-lore." The music I am unable to give ; I believe it was as original as the song. The loss of this, at the same time, is less to be regretted as the poetic effusion is not likely to occupy a place on the programmes of many "musical entertainments." I give the song, chorus, etc., as I heard them of THE MINISTER' S CIIUISTMAS DLWyi'Jli. 189 old, only eliminating a few words tliiiL veie slightly harsher than modern taste is now inclined to employ: — JOHN SPROT. Great Johnny Sprot, the parson's man's A man o' muckle pith, " Wi' his fall, hill, derattle. tall, Fall, lall, deday ! Gin ye except the crookit leg, He's soun' in limb an' lith, Wi' his falMall, derattle, tall, Fall, lall, deday ! As Johnny Sprot gaed o'er the burn, He tram pit on a snail, Wi' his fall, lall, derattle, tall, Fall, lall, deday ! Then up got Johnny's crookit leg, An' in the burn he fell, Wi' his fall, lall, derattle tall. Fall, lall, deday ! The minister cam' stappin, oot, Says, " John, far are ye, man ? Wi' yer fall, laU, derattle, tall, Fall, lall, deday!" Says John. " I've trampit on a snail, An' d me bit I've faan, Wi' my fall, lall, derattle, tall, Fall, lall, deday ! ' Si **■ I- I!' J ^? \ » it m ^ 1 li)0 SCOTTISH FOLK-LOBE. CHAPTER XXI. sillerton's burdens. Go, therefore, now, and work ; for there shall no straw be given you, yet shall ye deliver the tale of bricks. Hie Israelites in Eg yjjt. I RECOLLECT distinctly an old friend of mine illus- trating well the remark that we have all, in some respect or other, something to trouble us. Two elders of the kirk were engaged in a fiiendly controversy, one urging that we all have some trouble, the other as stoutly insisting that some seemed to have no care whatever. During the dis- cussion of the knotty question, which occurred as they walked along the road, a well-known " feel " — Jamie — hove in sight. " Now," said the one elder, " I am ready to wager that Jamie has no troul)le in this world v/hatevei'." The other as doggedly disbelieved this, and mean- while the "feel" drew near. " Xoo," says he who believed in Jamie's perfect happiness, "hae ye ony- thing to trouble ye, Jamie ? " " Fint a thing," quoth Jamie, and was passing on. " Bide a vree," says the T SILLER TON' S B URDENS. 191 other ; " is there iiaething ava, Jamie, that bothers ye ? " " Weel," repUes the " feel," " John Tamsoirs bubbly jock leads me sometimes a sair time o't ftii Tm gaen up the road." " Ah ! " said the believer in universal sorrow, " ye see everybody has his ' bubbly- jock.'" Gentle reader, this axiom or postulate was true also of Sillerton, for Sillerton undoubtedly had its " bubbly jock." I do not here refer so much to the village, in this case, but rather to tlie farmers of the parish. It was true tluit the villagers had found no royal road to affluence, nor did they expect to find it. They earned little, but their '*>'ants were in pro- poi'tion to their means, and many of them, no doubt, felt like a celebrated Xew York divine, who. Socrates- like, was accustomed to stand periodically before one of the magnificently-filled windows of Broad- way, and fervently thank the Lord that there were so many things in that window th;it he could do without. Now the plain folks of Sillerton felt like the par- son, without requiring to see the window. Certainly, in their case, whore ignorance was bliss 'twere folly to be wise, and thejMvere ignorantat least of greater wants, and hence were contented. But amongst the farming community there was a slightly altered state of things. The common laborer scarcely hoped to lay past more than the t ■. ; I Mi I I : -! iM: I If. 11;2 aCOTTISU FOLK-LOliE. merest trifle for a rainy day. The farmer aspired to something higher. He employed capital in his efforts to live, and he expected, not only to be able to pay his half-yearly rent, but also to iiave some- thing besides on the right side of the "profit and loss" account. Xor was the farmer, on many of the larger estates, disappointed in his expectations. It is related that Lord Aberdeen (the Premier Earl, I mean), when he met Her Majesty on her way to visit him at Haddu House, was accompanied by about four hundred horsemen. The Queen inquired who they were, and was informed that they were a portion of his tenantry. Expressing surprise that farmers could be so well mounted, his lordship ex- plained that he would be ashamed to have a tenant on his estate who could not afford to keep as good a horse as he owned himself. On the Richmond and Gordon property also a like liberal policy prevailed, and indeed on many or most of the large estates ; but on smaller properties things were managed in a different way, and if there were wanting the Irish "middleman," yet Me small Scotch laird extracted from his almost help- less tenant a considerably larger " tale of bricks" than that to which he was, in right and justice, en- titled ; and hence the anxiety and care and actual suffering that were so often the farmer^s lot, and SILLERTON'S BURDENS. VJi which were the natural cotiDequences of that iniqui- tous system of " itick-i-ent " that, alas ! was so prevalent. In Sillerton, successful fanning was difficult of realization. Rents wei'e confessedly high— [Kjrhaps a little XajC) high — but the so-called Game Laws were the veritHble " bubbly- jock " of tire parish. No farmer on the estate, or in the parish, whicli in this case were synonymous terms, had the right to keep even a collie dog ; no farmer was allowed to use a gun over his farm ; and no farmer might trap or kill a hare or even rabbit, under any circumstances what- ever — MO, not in his own kail-yard. Nor was this merely a negative condition, for by the terms and conditions of his lease, he was bound to protect tliese, and woe to him who failed to fulfil his duty in this respect. Wei'e I imbued with the genius of a Mark Twain or an Artemus Ward I might ^)ause here simply to moralize, and prove that the good Laird of Sillerton was acting only in a true Christian spirit, and that his leases, small (xxlicils to the Gospels, made his tenants better Christians, in that they were not only admonished, but even compelled, to love their ene- mies the rabbits, and to do good to evtn the lower animals that never ceased, night or day, to eat them out, root, stock, and branch. 13 n in m VJi .SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE. Personal tiistes also may have influenced the leases, for the Laird was an ardent lover of game : he did not enjoy wandering for hours over his preserves without filing a shot, and he had as little wish to see his invited guests subjected to a like trying experience. The expression " invited guests " leads me to note the fact, that, so far as parishioners were concerned, no one, no matter his education or social status, was ever invited to cast a fly upon the rippling waters of the "Bonnie Don," to try his luck with a fresh- run salmo sahir, nor had he ever the chance to bag a snipe or moorfowl in the company of the Laird and his guests, the latter of whom came generally from England to spend a short holiday among the heather, or who belonged to the more aristocratic families of the district. A few boys about the village plied their trouting rods over one or two mill-dams in the neighborhood, and were never challenged for doing so, but liad we ventured a cast on the Don, we should have soon come to grief at the hands of the game-keepers. We also contrived to make respectable baskets occasionally by a process we called "knittlin"' — probablv the boys call it "tickling" now. We lay down on our faces close to a narrow stream, spread- ing out our arms to their utmost stretch, and while sjLLi:inos\s nviiDEXs. ior> 'ing ikets drawing tliem togctlKi*, below tlio bjiiik, wo tVll gently for trout, until our fingers creeping heiul- wards, reached tlic gills. 'IMiis point reiiclied, llu'y closed like a vice upon the victim, and the finny beauty was transferred to the creel. This was a small privilege that the Laird allowed US, and yet it was of considerat.le value afterwards to the boys who enjoyed it. We manufactured our own rods; we conslructe::» ».F.«*-. ^.ij'jjg >'.f..' x''r ■ *l soy-iMiiuaioN, 208 r CHAPTER XXII. NON-INTRUSIOX — THE XTGHT BEFORE THE BATTLE. Oh ! what a parish, a parish, a parish ! Oh 1 what a parish was drucken Dunkeld 1 They hang'd the minister, droon'd the precentor, Pull'd doon the steeple, and fuddl'd the bell. Old Song. I HAVE no intention whatever of entering into the arena of Church politics that agitated Scotland for many years prior to the " forties," and which in 1843 culminated in what has been called the Disruption. It was certainly a hardship that any patron exer- cising the right of patronage over a church or churches possessed the power of giving the cure of souls in the Church, where he exercised this right, to any probationer to whom the Presbytery had given a licence to preach the Gospel, and whose life had been unpointed at by the finger of scandal. It might have indeed been urged that it was almost impossible for any one to enter the inner courts of the Church of Scotland, who was unacquainted with those marks of erudition that had been considered indispensable in completing the education of the scholar and the gentleman. y ■! i I I 204 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE. m It might fairly enough have been held, that no one of immoral character could continue to inscribe himself a probationer of the Kirlc ; and it was specially provided that the ministers of the Church of Scotland iiad to ])e, like the Paschal lamb, with- out blemisli. And yet, notwitlistandinj^ such safe- guards, it was quite possible that one miglit be forced upon a cons^regation who was obnoxious to the great majority of those who, in the event of his settlement over them, must of necessity listen to his teachings, and pay due respect to him as their spiritual adviser. This undoubtedly was a state of things most devoutly to be avoided, but for all that, it may liave occasionally happened. It was, however, as unquestionably true that sometimes, and more particularly near the period of the Disruption, extraordinary external influences were often brought to bear to induce Church mem- bers to ostracize a presentee, who, had no such in- fluence been employed, would have quietly entered into possession of the duties and emoluments of his office without any hitch whatever. Sillerton had changed somewhat ecclesiastically since the days when Louis Alexander Daff failed to put in an Appearance in his father's pulpit. Both sire and son had ceased from their labors, and church and school were occupied by strangers. Noy-iNTiirsiox. 205 The Reverend Robert Fordyce whom we have oc- casionally met before this in this narrative, was a quiet, unassuming man, quite satisfied w ith tilings as they were, and by no means of that volatile nature that the smallest spark of excitement mijjht fan into flame. Non-intrusion, therefore, did not make mucli prog- ress in the parish, and, with the exception of a friendly discussion of the question in the shoe- maker's workshop or the more commodious smitljy? we knew remarkably little about events that were bringing some sections of the religious world to an incandescent heat. That Mr. Fordyce would stick to the Establish- ment went without saying, and as the Laird would not allow a tenant to harbor even a collie dog for fear of disturbing the game, it was not at all likely that he would give much countenance to men who were wielding every influence in their power to upset the present state of things. One or two " Week- lies" came to the parish, but few conned their pages, and these few were not very favorable to the advo- cates of change. A considerable revolution had, however, taken place in our educational department. The old type of dominie had passed away, and a new one had come in, lacking many of the peculiar characteristics i! Pi ii Mi 206 .SCO TTl b II FOLK-L RE. % M ?'i »'■ u 'Hi' ;: of the old masters, but yet full of admiration for a system that had educated men who, in popular opin- ion, could walk from Al)erdeen to the Wall of China without meetinji^ with any diflBculties m the way of unknown tongues. These new pedagogues loved learning on its own account, and soon began to awaken an interest in the youth of the parish, who looked forward to the probabilities of a college course, and perhaps a i)ro- fessional career beyond. Amongst half a dozen youths then, scanning their Horace, advancing cautiously through Greek sen- tences, and beginning to master the difficulties of Euclid and algebra, the burning Church question was at all times welcome, and the arguments that were wielded on one side or the other were all duly w^eighed and gravely considered — nay, ofttimes argued as well. Without, however, entering into polemics ; with- out discussing the " V^eto Act " or marking out the beauties or defects of methods that had been re- commended to pour oil upon those troubled waters that thereafter obtained the designation of the "Ten Years Conflict," I shall at once come to what may be termed the crowning point of oui' ecclesias- tical troubles — the " Culsalmond Riot." There were doubtless grievances connected with T NON-INTliUSIOy. 207 the law of patronage, and there were rights belong- ing to Church membership that were utterly ignored, and, to remove the one class and secure the other, a torrent of burning zcil had rolled over tl»e land like a mighty stream, that half measures were as powerless to stem as was Mrs. Partington's broom to sweep back the waves of the Atlantic. In Sillerton we knew that trouble was to be ex- pected. It was not certainly known that there was on the programme a " Hiot at Culsalmond," but it as certainly was anticipated that the settlement there would be anything but peaceful, while it was also pretty generally believed that the parishioners would, on the day of settlement, be reinforced by sympathizers who would leave no means untried to prevent the settlement from taking place. We shall here epitomize the circumstances of the case. There was a vacancy in Culsalmond — a sad one certainly — and the Presbytery of Garioch had de- cided to induct the Rev. Mr. Middleton, assistant to the late incumbent, and the patron's presentee, on the eleventh day of November, to the church and parish of Culsalmond. Now, seeing that the late incumbent had been deposed for drunkenness, it might have been a wise thing to have settled there some man of more than ordinary ability and parts, who might have gradu- n 1 , ^ 20« .SCO TTIS II FOL K L O U E, all} uiidniie llic evil that his eniii;* brotlMjr hRd c'Diitrivi'd to do. Uut tliis, of course, whs not usually a mailer of inteiesl to tiie patron, wIk), if lie presciittul liie sou of an aspiring tenant to the liviii;;', r(>!if(;n'i'd a lasliug favor, and occasionally rei)li'iiislied his own depleted pocket-book. WhaU'ver was the cause, it was well known that the IJevcieiid Mr. Middleton was not by any ineaus the ehoici! of the people. At the same time, the Preshylery were precisely in the position of a jud^e who had to pass sentence in accordance with exisi- ing laws. The judge had no jurisdiction over the franiiii ;;(>f laws, hut had simply to act in accordance with sue'i as had been placed upon the Statute Book. And so with Ihe Presbyteiy of Garioch ; they were not the f rauiers of laws, but simply the execu- tive. The [neseutee of Culsalniond came before them armed with the legal documents tliat proved his position, and as soon as the Presbytery were satisfied as to his learning, character, and divinity, and no relevant objections were offered aiid sus- tained, there was but one coui*8e open to them. The Presbytery of Garioch therefore decided to induct Mr. Middleton on the eleventh d«y of No- vember, and appointed the Reverend George Peter, of Kem nay, to preside on the occasion. From rumors that liad reached Silleit<«i thnt r NoX'iyTiicsroy. '20',) the parish ioiiers would, by fair or foul moans, resist the settlcnieiit, a fellow-studeiit jind I thcreuiKin resolved to put in an appearance at Culsaluiond on that eventful November day. Only fouiteen miles or so separated us from the field of exi)oct(Ml battle, and the day before found us, about its close, in the village of Old llayne, where we arranged to pass the night. Brussels, the night before Waterloo, was not more moved than that quiet village the night before tht Culsalmond settlement. Alas ! no Uryside Byron has arisen to perpetuate in song what then tran- spired. Speedily it seemed to ooze out that two Moder- ates, youths certainly, had come so far to see the conflict that was likely to take place the following day. Old Rayne, unlike Sillerton, was strong hi Non-intrusion sentiment, and soon its champions appeared, prepared to do bfvttle for the great cause. I have now but a dim, a very dim recollection of the debate that followed. We two stood alone against the Rayne warriors, find did battle for the Auld Kirk as best we could. It was, however, a hard fis'ht, and when I think of it now, after these long years, I feel considerably surprised to think that two mere schoolboys could have held their own against the sturdy common 14 I ^ 210 SCOTTLSU FOLK-LORE. sense iiiul genuine wit and rustic irony tliat were employed against ttieni. Truly the race is not ever to the swift, nor the battle to the strong. Notwithstanding, however, the points we made, and the foes we routed, we began to weary of the apparently interminable nature of the contest. Just then a happy thought seemed to strike my comrade, who ^vas at least four or live years my senior, that it w, but beyond a sharp cry of p.iin we knew nothhig. We were sensible of a slow jjiinding motion that was in unceasing progress ; we faced sometimes the gable of the church and sometimes the everlasting hills ; we were conscious of a compressive force that was almost unbearable; we had no power whatever to alter, hi the very slightest degree, the course we were involuntarily taking, but we saw and felt that we were approach- hig slowly, but surely, the open door. With hands high overhead, and with feet inno- cent of contact with the gravel or grass that lay be- neath them, that door was reached. That particular moment, amidst all my subsequent experiences and wanderings, has never been forgotten. If two hun- dred pounds upon the square hich was what I en- dured before, there were at least a thousand as I slowly rolled past one of the doorposts. Not more swiftly does the tensioned string regain its normal condition when the tension ceases, than my corporation came back to its original form. I seemed to shoot forward as if an old resuscitated catapult had propelled me. But, in fact, there was a double propulsion. The ■m I 218 SCOTTISH FOLK-LOIiE. ■\ ;1 !^ I 4 h I' ;} >i r ;'; " i? N4; one was produced by a species of vacuum in front, and tlie propelling power behind ; the other sprang- from that principle of love of life that stimulates many of the forces of the human mind. But, to explain: no sooner was I within the door than a soiuid struck on my ear that precluded all other sounds whatever. That there was a perfect pandemonium there, may go without saying. The roar of a flooded cata- ract was nothing in comparison to the mingled sounds that were heard within that building. And yet the distinct crack of a beam overhead was louder still. With the agility of youth, stimulated by the spur of fear, the top of a pew was reached, a few bounds left the cracked and still cracking gallery behind, and with a careful eye to the possibilities of falling stars and things of that sort, I speedily found my- self in a window, and considered that I was as secure from the evil clianoes of war, as any one might w^ell be while be remained under that roof. From my perch I could now look with some equanimity upon things transpiring about me. I am not aware whether or not tlie Moderator ever ascended the pulpit stei)s. It would have been an act of supreme folly to have even attempted such a thing, as both stair and pulpit were already occupied THE C'UL SALMON JJ RIOT. 219 to repletion, and as the uproar that raged on every side would have precluded the possibihty of any human voice being heard, were it loud as that of an African lion. Piitiently, very patiently, the members of Presby- tery kept their usual places beside the pulpit foot. Xor was this an easy or desirable task. The cease- less roar of angry and determined men, irritated the more by their failure to del)iir the clergy from the church, was not the only disturbing element there, but i:)ieceb of wood, of stone, and of lime were being thrown in every direction throughout the build- ing. And well did the Presbytery of Garioch stand the test. There might have been ditt'erences of opinion as to the goodness of their cause ; there was but one with respect to their bearinn' under such peculiarly trying circumstances, and that was one of general sidmiration. Pei'sonally, I was prejudiced in favor of our clergy, but I could not look that day upon their calm, determined bearing without thinking of their Covenanting forefathei's preaching to their scattered followers amidst the mosses and moors of troubled Scotland, .vhere the sabres of Claverhouse's dragoons might at any moment have ended both preaching and life together. Such, thought I, were our fathers once, and such 1-,^' i, 2*20 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE. are their sons now. After waiting for a consider- able time for ii putieiit jjejiiiii^', the members of Presbytery wilbdi't'W in a l)()(Iy from the buildinjj;;^ and sought the quieler rooms of llie neij^iiboriiig nr.inse, where the settlement of the [)resentee was legally and ecclesiastically consummated. The storm that raged, however, within the walls of the church was not hushed to rest when the clergy left it. " IToly Willie's Prayer" was given from the pulpit by special request; ribald songs were sung by the excited and sometimes inebriated ploughmen ; the bell never ceased its jowl until the shades of evening were coming down upon the church and churchyard, and not until almost all the chief actois had left the manse for their com- paratively distant homes, did the revellers pause in their weird-like work, did the su'oke of hundreds of pipes cease to roll forth from the shattered and glassless windows of the now dilapidated building, and did that old bell abandon a lugubrious refrain that has never been rung again, and we sincerely hope may never again,on the world-renowned heights of Culsahnond. A few days afterwards I attended a wedding in the neighborhood of Sillerton, where the Reverend Robert Fordyce officiated. It was, of course, well known that he had been at Culsahnond as a member TUE Ci'LSALMOM) lilOT. »> >i of the Presbytery, uud thiit while on his way home the day following, and not veiy far from the village, some slight accident happened to the horse, and, in consequence, minister, man, and vehicle got landed in the ditch. A friendly parishioner and his ploughman who witnessed the accident kindly came to the rescue, and, with some little difficulty, all were, like J(>hii Gilpin's hat and wig, soon again on the road. The father of the bride was somewhat dull of heai-iiin-, but on this occasion he seemed duller than usual. The fact was that the old farmer meant to quiz the minister and succeeded. Three times I heard the question put, " Far war ye comin' fnie, minister, the ither day fin yer beastie fell i' the ditch?" As often the answer came, but in rather sttbdued tones. The fourth "speerin"' brought a reply that was heard all over the room, " From Culsalmond, sir I from Culsalmond." The smothered titter that rippled through the w^ell-filledapai'tment showed that the shot had told, and the good-natured host, showing only a merry twinkle in his eye, did not pursue the conversation. Another cleric:i] friend of mine in after years was not so reticent as to things that transpired at the riot, and more than once induced me to tell the story. I had seen him leave the manse of Culsalmond on r?"*"**"- .bCO in SI I FOLK- LOR L\ I- n m thiit eventful evening, und, Jis a number of ruistics alLenipted to bur his way along Her .Majesty's high- way, he leapt his horse into a turni[) iield. Here lie was rather elosely followed for some distanee by the rabble, but, being well mounted, lie got "ght dis- tance ahead, and at last saw his way clear to the highway again. Wheelii)g his panting nag towards his pursuers, he lifted his hat, made a profound sa- laam, and rode awav. This was too much for liis tor- mentors. One cheer was raised, and the chase ended. This story he delighted to repeat long yciirs after- wards, and that exciting ride through that siiff tur- nip-field gave him, in its remembrancje, more delight than the recollections of the best sermon ) had e\ er preached. Such are we all ; such is hu nature everywhere. I saw the carriage of an aristocratic member of Presbytery also leave the manse under difficulties. A shower of something h;irder and Irrger than hail- stones damaged considerably the "• Dali'ynii)le Arms'' on the well varnished panels, but the ecpianimity of the occupant was in no way disturbed. In conver- sation afterwards tlit^ gallant baronet ex[)l^(^ errore. These were certainly anxious and hard times. With us, truly, there was no royal road to the grand truths contained in the writings of ancient Greece and Rome. The Latin lludiments, from title-page to finis; Melvin's Grannnar, with its hundreds of lines of Latin hexameteis ; Greek grammars, Caesar, Virgil, Horace, Xenophon, and, as a species of alter- ative, arithmetic, algebra, and geometry thrown in — this was the "bill of fare" on which the choice youths of Sillerton were encouraged to try their mental teeth. Nor did we flinch from the ordeal. We were well coached, as stated before. The master had himself travelled over the same road. 230 SCOTTISH FOLKLORE. He knew every step of the way, and we never lacked encouragement to press on — his motto and ours being ever " Excelsior." As an example of the ju- dicious treatment we received, I shall recount jin experience of my own in the earlier stages of our Latin ity. I had mastered a few hundred lines of Melvin's hexameters without any extraordinary difficulties, and to the satisfaction of the master, when suddenly a change — a change for the worse — came ovei' me. My memory seemed to fail ; the lines, usually so easily committed, would scarcely limp along; and lessons generally were, without doubt, a sad failure. I must have looked unhappy, but the teacher's coun- tenance expressed despaii'. He quietly took me aside, asked wliat was the matter, and questioned me with evident anxiety if I really had lost my in- terest in classical studies, lost my senses, lost any- thing that should not have been lost. I owned up at once. Young George Washington, when he carved the paternal cherry tree without the paternal permission, was not more candid than T. I had, unfortunately — very unfortunately — Inid my hands upon one of Jane Porter's novels — "Thaddeiis of Warsaw " — and from that ill-fated moment no line of Melvin's Grammar could find a resting-place in my memory. LAST DAYS AT SCHOOL. 231 I received there and then, and most kindly too, a holiday sufficiently long to enable me to finish my story ; I received also at the same time some very ex- cellent advice which I have never since forgotten, ^i due course the romance speedily passed away ; ]>i\< !: came the hexameters in all their beauty and smoolli- ness ; and the beam of satisfaction that played over the teacher's face as he listened to the wisdom of the old stern grammarian (known by the nickname of " Old Grim " ) repeated carefully and correctly by the lips of his pupil, showed clearly that our golden age had again returned. Summer was now amongst the things of the past, the golden sheaves of autumn had all been stored away in the huge cornstacks that gladdened the farmers' hearts, and adorned their courtyards. The little boys and girls of the village were looking forward anxiously to the next moon to enjoy the rustic game of "hide and seek" amongst the lights and shadows that would be found there; but, alas! there was no " hide and seek " in store for the busy Latinists. Probably we thought and said, too, with a sigh, "Every dog has its day," and we may have had ours also among the cornstacks. " Hide nnd sn^k" was Unquestionably a fascinating game even wiieii played by boys, but when the challenge came, ' lioys and 232 SCOTTISH FOLK-LOUE. ;t m i\ h^ girls come out to play," its cliarms were increased a thousand-fold. It is asserted by scientists that, on even a calm ocean, there is an attraction between vessels lying near each other, that may bring them into danger- ous proximity, nay, into perilous contact. And so, in the sweet game of "hide and seek," how often did one find himself, in tiie friendly shadow of the cornstacks, near some youthful maiden, whose sums he had often worked out for her, and whose hand he was, in consequence, permitted to gently press, away from the gairy and tell tale n^oonbearas. Ah! much do I fear, were the truth told, that Thaddeus of Warsaw was not the only disturbing influence that crept into the i>arish scliool to cripple our hexameters ; there were little episodes of lo- mance amidst even our school-days that would cross our paths to interfere at times with sterner duties, and when I think of it, the reciprocating squeeze of a gentle hand, or the kindly blink of a loving eye, did sometimes make sad havoc in our ranks. 1 fear, also, that in these cases we were not quite so candid as when the Polish patriot was at fault* it. would have taken more than thumbscrews to make us own to the douce dominie that samebonnie Jean had come between us and our allotted tasks; we were willing to stand unlimited chaffing in such LAST DAYS Ai SCHOOL. 1:33 a cause; the secret, after all, was our own, iind were we not acting wyt to Uio advice of our great bard, imd who knew better? — " i\iid keep aye sonietliiiig to yoiirsell, ye diniia tell to ony." The autumn games were then not for ns, and when we returned to school, after our six weeks of holidays, it was only to say, "Good-bye," and to re- ceive credentials to one or other of the (irannnur Schools, that in Old or New Aberdeen prepared youths for the approaching competition. This course was not always adopted. Boys often re- mained at the parish school to the very last ; but many sought the Grammar School, as affording a wider arena, where the classical athlete could find a larger number of competitors with whom to measure his own strength and prowess. My own departure from home was accompanied with more than one trial. Leaving home with all its agreeable associations, and generally, for the first time, is far from pleasant. Looking forward to the dandy jacket of a smart "middy," or even to a month's fishing among the lochs and tarns of the gi'eat Grampian range, makes home-leaving any- thing but painful, but in our case, there was no play in pros|)ect, but only good stern work before us; the midnight oil must needs be burned ; our lottery was not *' all prizes and no blanks ; " the prizes were 234 SCOTTISH FOLK-LOUK. indeed only for a few, and when the short roll of the successful competitors should be called, at least four-fifths of the crowd would return in disapi)oliit- ment to their lioines. Many of these last, however, would enter the classes with their more fortunate companions, but to not a few this would be denied. Prior to the competition I ranked myself among this number. I had been given to understand that my entering the college depended entirely on my proving a successful competitor. Whether it was wise or otherwise to give such an assurance may be diffiiMilt to determine. Much might be said on l)oth sidc^s. Douljtless what was done was done for the best, and at all events, in the present cjise, while it hinted at the painful consequences of defeat, it neither ^^'o:lkened hand nor heart in preparing for the fray. My fatiier, with commendable caution, had, un- known to any member of the family, procured for nuMhe promise of a presentation bursary, in the event of my defeat at the competition, but with commendable pride he much preferred a bursary won by merit alone. Whether or not he was grat- ified in this, we shall see hereafter. Often have I burned the midnight oil, but never more unremit- tingly and faithfully than then ; often have I seen the rising sun peep in at the attic window to startle eyes that had not yet tasted sleep, but there was •I? LAST J)Ays AT SCHOOL. 235 an intenseness in the work (lonotlien, that was never felt afterwards in the sjuno ratio. There was tlien an issue at stake that might cast sunshine or shadow over a whole lifetime — an issue that, in its intensity, never seemed to be approached in after years. My own fate seemed to he within the compass of my own hands, and hke tlie youthful warrior who buckled on for the flrst time, his maiden sword, to me victory and defeat seemed to poise upon a level beam. I knew that all Sillerton stood on tiptoe of expec- tation ; the genial, anxious dominie never failed to send messages of encouragement and good cheer ; and round the family hearth I well knew that kindly hearts felt the deepest sympathy in all my experi- ences, and never ceased to long and pray earnestly for a " Godspeed." And thus the weeks passed by ; the versions approached in correctness the models that were day by day placed before us, till sine errore became the rule instead of being the exception. And so also with other studies. We were approaching the end very perceptibly, and as the rector closed his book on the Saturday preceding the great day of competition, I can almost recall his parting bow before dismissing us, and hear 236 SCOTTISH FOL K-LCUE. ^ again the fervent wish that we might distinguish miiselves in tiie approacliiiig classic tournanienL, and shed fresh lustre, not only ui)on ourselves, hut uiK)n the Grammar School of Old Aberdeen, nay, upon its ipotor as well. Well miglit we luive all replied, prayerfully, fer- vently, humbly, *' 80 mote it be." I*; • * - I .. •■ sh l(i ts THE CONCLUSION. 237 CHAPTER XXV. THE CONCLUSION — THE rO^rPETITION AND THK GOWN. He that no more must say, is listened more Than they whom youth and ease have taught to gloze ; More are men's ends mark'd, than their lives before • The setting sun, and music at f'.e close, As the last taste of sweets is sweetest last ; Writ in remembrance, more tlian things long past. —Hichard II, On a bleak inoniing near the end of Oct(»l)cr, between the year 1840 and a decade later, some- what over one hundred and fifty competitors sat down in the long room of King's College, to test their skill in an academic tourney, that had, alter all, but a few prizes to offer, and wliere also, tlie great majority would feel like the unhorsed knights of old, when sword and lance both lay shivered on the ground. No roll was called, for the competition was open to Scotland, or, for that matter, to the world at large; and had a "heathen Chinee" and a fur-clad Esquimaux presented themselves at that table, they 2^8 -SCO TTlt^lI FOLK-LOhE. would have found a place, and, provided their La- tinity was up to the mark, they had as good a chance of success as the Scottish youth who had studied his classics in some of the famous Grammar Schools of ths north. Two or three professors were on duty. Poor lit- tle Tulioch went limping round the room, as anx- ious niid fidgety as if he were one of the competi- tors I'imself ; Greok "iralA-y,/' tliougli old and frail, still lield his own, and looked us if, wlien hi liis pnnie,he would have been morelikely to have proved the victor in an old-time wrestling match than t^ win the poet's crown at the Olympic games. And last, though not least, came 1 ' rly Prosody, as we always called our Professor of Humanity. We believed, indeed, that Prosody would rather have arrayed himself in a Roman toga than encase his massive limbs in the more artificial habiliments of a modern Scot. I never looked at Ir'm without dreaming of Cicero, and it was generally believed, at least amongst the " I^ageants," that Prosody thought in Latin hexameters. The version, as it was called, was slowly dictated, and thereafter we all bent ourselves resolutely to our task. The only book allowed us was the ordi- nniy Latin dictionary, and keen eyes watched that no other tome or notes of any kind were used. The THE CONCLUSION. 230 hours wore on in profound stillness, broken only by the peculiar sound that a hundred and fifty pens, operating all at the same time, make upon a hun- dred and fifty sheets of paper. A change of watchmen comes, and as the guard is relieved in comes the good old Dr. Hercules Scott, with a smile upon his kindly face that told as plainly as so many words, that he personally would be glad could we all be first bursars or prizemen. Dr. Fyfe follows trippingly, and walks along with as little apparent interest as if he would gladly boil down all the Latin and mathematics in the universe in one of his own retorts. And last glides in, for all the world like a feline, the erudite Professor of Natural Philosophy. Smooth-tongued was he as "Oily Gammon" him- self, but, a stranger to our northland ways, he never gained the students' hearts, and never awoke any- thing more than a hiss in after-days, when profes- sors and students sought the Public Ilall on oc- casions of discipline. There were more professors present than those mentioned, but I have sketched, very roughly it may be, at least the principal figures. And so the day wears on. Time was called at last, and each candidate, after placing a certain number on his exercise and the same number and 240 .SCO msii FO L K- L <) i:e. ii m It-!- r^ Ijis iiuine on a coui)oii Jittaclied, separated U>e tvi and placed the pieces in different Ixjxes. Tiiis closed the first day's work— in fact, the rrore inipoitant part of the coniixititif n — as the transhi tion of Latin into English was not considered 1 y any moans so drastic ii test of mental capacity, i;s the turning of English hito choice ('i(er»niian Liitin. Xext day found us at our post again, with lie same guard mounted over us, and wlien the lamrs for work weie exhausted time was again calle^l, ihe same boxing operation took place as on the dny previous, and we, alone or in snnill gi'oups, wende our respective places of abode, to g«r over our work again in the quiet of our own rooms, to mark what errors we had made, if any, and to calculate our chances of success. The few" days that intervened between the competi tion days and that on which the list of prizemen or bursars would be published in the Public Hall of the College dragged very wearily .along. I had examined and re-examined every word and line and sentence ; idioms had all been thoroughly kmked into; genders of nouns, conjugations of verks, and rules of syntax had all been api>lied as a line and plummet to the double exercise, and! felt reasonably satisfied with what T had done. The schoolmaster of Sillerton was duly communi- THE CONCLUSION. 1>41 cated with and his opinion requested. His reply came — We of Sillerton were pretty equally matched, so far as talents or scholarship went, but in nervous susceptibility we were indeed very different. The strain had proved too much for my comrades ; they liiid simply lost their heads, and in consequence errors had crept in — errors that might, nay, that certainly would, count heavily against them. I alone seemed likely to be successful : in my exercises there were no maxies — no glaring errors ; there was, in one or two places, room for improve- ment, but taking one thing with another, the chances of success were on my side. Mark, " chances " only. The kindly teacher felt very confident, as he after- wards told me, but he feared to raise my hopes too high, lest I might feel disappointment the more bitterly should I have already almost anticipated the joys of triumph. At last the day — the eventful day — arrived. Accompanied by ray father, who had come from Sillerton that morning with a few others equally in- terested, I wended my way from New to Old Aber- deen, past the canal bridge, beneath which then passed many a barge laden with the produce of the Garioch and Buchan districts ; past the Red Lion of famous memory, with the Latin motto, iServa Jugunij painted boldly upon its capacious signboard, x6 242 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE, f and which all students, from time immemorial, persisted in translating, " Hand round the jug " — past this famous hostelry, I said, until, passing under the lofty and elegant granite crown that distin- guishes the well-known and ancient seat of learning, we entered the great square, which we found crowded by hundreds, attracted thither by a motive the same as that which had drawn ourselves. A few anxious and restless moments pass ; then the old bell clangs loudly from a neighboring tower ; the massive doors are thrown open, and we rush in, as if every man and boy among us firmly believed in the adage, " Deil tak' the hindmost." There, in a railed-in dais, clothed in silken gowns, and wearing shiny hats, sat the members of the Senatus Academicus, prepared to disclose the secrets that were contained in a roll that lay on the book- board before them. Soon every sound was hushed in expectation of the approaching denouement, and I doubt not every competitor felt much as a 'julprit does, as the jury- men file into the room, and the foreman stands ready to make known the decision of the twelve men — « good and true." The sacrist, armed with the symbol of authority, approaches the dais, and laying the sceptre upon the table, steps aside to await the issue of events. There TIJi: CONCLUSION. 243 1^; is still a moment's pause, and then a whisper paspes along the professorial line, and seems particularly directed to the centre figure of the group. 1 at once recognize a very aged man, whom I had observed while we were waiting outside, ap- proaching the great hall door, leaning on the arm of a lady, who there left him in the care of one of the College officials. This I learned afterwards to be Principal Jack, now, of course, relieved from duty, except, perhaps, when his venerable appearance and great age would tend to add additional dignity to a professorial meeting. I observed also at a glance that the old Principal was blind. As he rose slowly to his feet, the other members of the Senatus rose ; the roll of names was placed in the old man's hands, and the Professor standing next to him seemed ready to whisper each name, as it came in order of merit, to the Principal's ear. I need not say how awful was the silence now. At last, at last it was broken ; the whispered name came in measured, yet in tremulous tones from the old Principal's lips, and one shout of triumph rose " loud and long " from the friends and relatives of the successful first bursar, who now stepped forward at the beck of the sacrist to a place of honor nearer the Professorial line. 244 aCOTTISII FOLK-LOBE. If ; Another and another name is called, and my hopes lire beginning to sink low. Ten or eleven names have been called, and yet Sillertou is un- represented amongst the beaming line of happy faces now lifted immeasurably above all the rest. The twelfth name comes. Can it be possible ? Can I be deceived ? Could there be another of the same name ? No major, no minor is appended. A hearty shout greets my victory; a dozen friendly hands push me forward, and Donald An- drew, of Sillerton, stands amongst the acclaimed bursars of King's College and University of Aber- deen. Little more remains to be told. The same after- noon my delighted father had me arrayed in cap and gown in one of the famous clothing establishments of Bon- Accord. I would have fain taken a run to Sillerton to spend a quiet day at home, and in truth I needed it, and perhaps to enjoy the congratulations of mv friends and acquaintances there, but this might not be. There was no railroad in those days to Sillerton, and matriculation day was close at hand. I decided to remain, and that evening I saw my father off on the old « Defiance " mail-coach. " Good-bye, Donald, and God bless you," said the old man, cheerily, in a dialect learned in school on 1^ i THE CONCLUSION. 245 the banks of the Spey, leiirned as Sillerton boys leurned their Latin and Greek, and which still, on occasions, even after tiie lapse of so many years, I sometimes seem to hear as the softened echo of a familiar voice gently thrown back from a distant hill. "Wherever you are," he said, "never forget that you are a gentleman." As the driver gathered together the reins in his hand, and the scarlet-coated guard gave the last signal on his official horn that Her Majesty's " De- fiance" was ready to start on its journey northward, he had only time to add, " I will remember you kindly to the schoolmaster, and to your other friends in Sillerton, nor will I forget to tell all at home that you looked right well in your King's College Cap and Gown." THE END. « • • • • ' • » • • > • i » » u .'I « » » , 4.S *■#*. 4 g V • .' I < • I • • > I i • t ■ • 4 J • » i t • » » • » » 1. * 1 V t t t > * ■ • • t • • •