UNIVERSITY OF
AT LOS
SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE
OR
REMINISCENCES OF ABERDEENSHIRE
FROM PINAFORE TO GOWN
BY
THE REV. DUNCAN ANDERSON, M.A.
AUTHOR Of " TH LAVS OF CANADA," KTC.
Eheu / fugaces labuntur anni.
NEW YORK
J. SELWIN TAIT & SONS, PUBLISHERS
65 FIFTH AVENUE
COPYRIGHT, 1895,
BY
J. SELWIN TAIT & SONS,
NEW YORK.
TO THEIR EXCELLENCIES,
Che <arl anb Countess of 21beroeett,
THIS HUMBLE WORK IS DEDICATED BY
SPECIAL PERMISSION :
DEDICATED, IN ACKNOWLEDGMENT OF SELF-DENYING LABORS,
ON TWO CONTINENTS, TO PROMOTE
HUMAN HAPPINESS ;
IN ADMIRATION OF UNTIRING PERFORMANCE OF EVERY
PUBLIC AND PRIVATE DUTY;
AND, ESPECIALLY, AS AN EXPRESSION OF THE
HEAKTIEST SYMPATHY WITH THAT NOBLEST OF TASKS THAT THEY
HAVE CHOSEN AS PECULIARLY THEIR OWN-
TO BUILD UP AND FOSTER
AMONGST ALL, A HIGHER, A PURER, A HOLIER
BROTHERHOOD.
MONYKUSK, November, 1896.
417318
GOVERNMENT HOUSE, OTTAWA,
October 15, 1895.
DEAR ME. ANDERSON,
To be associated with any of your literary or other
work, and more especially in the case of what can-
not fail to be a very interesting narrative, would be
agreeable to Lady Aberdeen and myself ; therefore
I cordially assent to your kind proposal regarding
the dedication of your forthcoming book. With best
wishes, I remain, very truly yours,
ABERDEEN.
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I.
MY PINAFORE.
PAGE
Introductory. The Pinafore I wore. The cobbler's
window broken. Interrupted friendship. Remorse. 5
CHAPTER II.
SILLERTON AND ITS SURROUNDINGS.
Products : Timber and whisky. Sillerton's geographi-
cal position. The black board for advertisements.
Standing stone for the beadle. Public notices cried
on Sunday. Incongruities of same. Minister and
beadle parade for church 12
CHAPTER III.
SILLERTON AND ITS NOTABILITIES.
The Episcopal chapel. The tower of the parish church
built by Malcolm Canmore for a groat too little.
John Laing and his visit to London. The exciseman
no naturalist. Domestic jars in consequence 17
CHAPTER IV.
THE DOMINIE.
Louis Alexander Daff in general. His preparations for
preaching his first sermon. Nervousness causes him
to retire early on Saturday night. Sunday dawns but
the bird has flown. . ... 25
Viii CONTENTS.
CHAPTER V.
THE DOMINIE CONTINUED.
PAGE
DafFs clandestine retreat. Leaves care behind and
enters Paradise. Chief gardener. His weak point.
Reward for plagiarizing a psalrn of David. Sympathy
between visitor and host increased by whisky. Daflf
reaches the manse when the " kye come hame" 32
CHAPTER VI.
THE DOMINIE MOUNTED.
Daff tries the saddle. Doctor Low and lie do now row
in the same boat. Daff's terrible ride accelerated by
Low's whip. A second John Gilpin reaches the vil-
lage. Daff retires from the cavalry 37
CHAPTER VII.
A DISSOLVING VIEW.
The gig supersedes the saddle. Daff employs the highest
art to wield the curry-comb. Dobbin gets more exer-
cise than grooming. The author up. Man and horse
down. The irate Dominie witnesses the catastrophe.
The curry-comb changes hands. Daff's affection for
the lower animals. One morning birds arrive, but no
Duff is at the window. Last will and testament 44
CHAPTER VHI.
THE STICKIT LAWYER.
Sandy Daff an M. A., but fails professionally. Kindly
message to Sandy and his sisters. The messenger
dropw "Mister" and has to run for it. Successful
campaign against the caterpillars. Sandy insulted by
8 - Revenge 57
CONTENTS. ix
CHAPTER IX.
DOCTOR LOW'S WATCH LOST AND FOUND.
PAGE
Low in old age. The Doctors jxiverty. Happy Christ-
mas thought. Shooting match on old Christmas Day.
Last shot a "bull's-eye." The watch carried home.
" Right-about-face." Another military order, "As
you were." The blessedness of giving ... 63
CHAPTER X.
HOW MARY MITCHELSON DISHED HER HUSBAND'S BROSE.
Mary's peculiarities. George Brodie's excellent appetite.
The muzzle too often applied. Strained relations.
War declared with sad results. An eye lost, and a
green patch won. Young Brodie at school. His
mother asks a question, and brings down the house.
Her sarcasm scathes the teacher, and sticks to him.
Nazareth finds a synonym 70
CHAPTER XL
THE QUEEN'S SCOTCH AS SPOKEN IN SILLERTON.
Influence of hills on language, etc. A Royal Academi-
cian on the warpath. Finds faces where Roy's wife
was lost to Johnnie. The orra man learns English in
a fortnight. Tullochgorum's Scotch. Spurious edi-
tion of pronouncing dictionary. Walker's key to
vowel sounds illustrated. Wandering Scotchmen re-
tain their accent. A dominie's " ticks " with result.
A comma misplaced almost ruins Diamond's
master 77
CHAPTER XII.
JEAN BARDEN'S MILK FOR BABES.
Traditionary literature of an exciting character.
Jean's peculiar talents. Her chamber of horrors,
X CONTENTS.
PAGE
and its effect. My first excursion at night. A basket
of bantams and the Lord's Prayer as a sedative.
Shades of evening close around. Terrible noises.
Treacherous fords. Terrors of the dismal Howe o'
Coghard. Home at last 89
CHAPTER XIII.
THE POOR PRIOR TO THE POOR LAWS.
The kirk session dole. Crumbs from the farmers'
tables. Huts of the poor. Intolerable smudge. Ditto
in a Canadian camp, with its uses. Scarcity of light.
Marnoch prefers ligl it from the chimney. Knitting
stockings a source of revenue. Elsewhere weaving
helped the poor. David going home with his wark
meets the Doctor. The Doctor going home with his
wark meets David 103
CHAPTER XIV.
LICENSED BEGGARS, THE FATUOUS AND INSANE.
No king's bedesmen in Sillerton. Jean Bay licensed to
beg. The " feels," so called. Jamie Nuckel's work
and wages. Nuckle's narrow escape. Sandy Forbes'
mail-bag. An heir-at-law interdicted. Jamie Muir
arrays himself in the "Garb of Old Gaul." His
brother a madman. Muir's visit to the school.
Scripture reading with a suggestive razor in the near
foreground. Better arrangements now 115
CHAPTER XV.
CONVIVIALITIES OP SILLERTON.
Football with poetical description. Halloween. Yule.
New Year's Day. The ball. Christenings. Wed-
dings. Paternal difficulties. Repeated attempts and
failures. An unanswerable argument. A Highland
CONTENTS. Xl
PAGE
wedding. The " Best Man " in the wrong place. The
air of Speyside dangerously exhilarating. Engage-
ments and interviews in prospect. Masterly retreat
upon Bennachie. Mountain dew, rather than moun-
tain air responsible for some tilings 180
CHAPTER XVI.
OTHER SILLERTON AMUSEMENTS : THE SOCIETY OF 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. Oldmeldrum 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 cheer. The vil-
lage wags get a finger in the pie, and Protty dines
again on sweetened turnips 145
CHAPTER XVII.
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 inexhaustible 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
Xii CONTENTS.
PAGE
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 repairs
ordered. Every Saturday night brings misery to
Baggs, and fun to Baggs' assembled customers. The
wind changes, and the laugh 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 LEG.
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. The 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 two 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 Christmas dinner.
John Sprot, the parson's man, a necessary unit in
CONTENTS. xiii
PAGE
the story. John's proclivities and temptations, with
usual consequences. A new leaf turned over, and
cure considered permanent. Renovation of horse and
gig successfully accomplished. Interruptions by a
threatened duel. Becomes peacemaker, but with de-
plorable consequences. Horse, gig and man 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 hostile bubbly-jock
leads him a sair life. Sillerton's terrible bubbly-jock.
Silver nest-eggs rare in the parish. The game
laws. Tenants compelled 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 Latinists it reaches 212
degrees. Ecclesiastical murmurs become material-
ized. Presentee to the parish of Culsalmond not popu-
lar. Feeling out of the parish and in it. Day of
settlement appointed. General excitement. Two
Xiv CONTENTS.
PAGE
Latinists start to witness the expected fray and spend
the night 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 the .... 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 round the church
doors to prevent the entiy of the clergy. An insinu-
ating constable turns the key. A human " crevasse."
Personal 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
unknown. Stat nominis 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 my success at 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. . 226
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. Some lost their heads.
Coolness in my case excluded maxies. Declaration
day dawns. Crowds, including Sillertonians, in the
college hall. Professors in high places. Blind old
Principal Jack presides. The sacrist and sceptre.
The roll unfolds. Every name greeted with thunders
of applause. Successful competitors radiant with de-
light. With me hope begins to sink low. Eleven
names, and yet no Sillertonian. The twelfth comes
from the Principal's lips. It is mine. Incredulous
and irresolute, kindly hands push me forward to the
place of honor, and friendly voices cheer me to the
echo. My father delighted. He leaves that evening
for home. I remain lonely but happy. The fare-
well.,. . 237
INTRODUCTION.
By these mysterious ties, the busy power
Of memory her ideal train preserves
Entire; or when they would elude her watch,
Reclaims their fleeting footsteps from the waste
Of dark oblivion.
AKENSIDE.
THE late Dean Ramsay of Edinburgh, in the pref-
ace to his Reminiscences, says, " It is interesting to
preserve national peculiarities which are passing
away from us."
The remark is one that strikes with peculiar force
every Scotchman, and as the years go by, and those
who capped our best stories with some of their own,
join the majority, the feeling deepens with us that
the opportunities of preserving such peculiarities are
indeed very materially lessening. Not much more
than a decade of years has passed since I- was in-
vited to meet, at the house of an intimate friend, two
or three acquaintances, formerly residents of Quebec,
but whose lines had now fallen to them in other
places.
We were all of us of that class, that, loving Scot-
1
2 INTRODUCTION.
land as it should be loved, enjoyed the pleasure of
telling, and hearing told, the stories of our native
land.
It need scarcely be remarked that the sum' hours
were reached long before we thought of separating.
Before, however, Auld Lang Syne was sung, the
host remarked, " "What a pity that these stories that
have been told here to-night should be lost ! Could
a stenographer have been stationed within earshot,
what an interesting paper might he have supplied to
thousands of readers, and would not the object be
thus gained of rendering imperishable what after
all, may, in a few years, be difficult, perhaps im-
possible, to recall ? "
This remark struck us all, and we then agreed, that,
if ever a convenient season came, we would put our
heads and pens together, and endeavor to do, each in
his way, what the reporter might have done for us.
That convenient season, however, never came, and
when I looked around me only lately, I was pain-
fully reminded that it could now never come. Im-
pelled by a feeling of regret, I resolved to do alone,
in a humble way, what might have been so much
better done by us all. I felt like the subaltern under
fire, who knows that, however unfit he may be, yet
it is still his duty to lead on, when his superior
officers have been laid low on the field of battle.
INTRODUCTION. 3
But how to perform my duty in the best way, I was
at a loss to determine. The mere stringing of anec-
dotes together did not take my fancy, and it would
be difficult to follow in the footsteps of such men as
Ramsay and O'Rell, without provoking a compari-
son that might be at least unpleasant, and I had, in
consequence, to relinquish all idea of relating almost
anything except what was mainly my own.
Another way then lay open to me, for which I had,
I believed, one special qualification, and that way I
adopted. So far as my recollection of individuals,
and of circumstances connected with them, was con-
cerned, memory never failed me. Like the musician
whom two or three notes will often enable to repeat
the almost forgotten melody, so, on recalling some
acquaintance of my early years, the outline, at first
only dim and indistinct, becomes gradually clothed
with a flood of light, and the minutest traits of ap-
pearance and character, and life and sayings, stand
out boldly as if I had been contemplating them but
yesterday. This decided me. I had no intention of
creating characters to suit my story, if indeed story
it might be called, for like Canning's needy knife-
grinder, I might say
" Story ? God bless your honor, I have none to tell, Sir,"
but there were men and women that I had known
4 INTRODUCTION.
nearly a half century ago, and these I would call as
witnesses, and make them once more tell their own
tale. In telling it, they would, at the same time,
give a faithful picture of a quiet Aberdeenshire
village and parish, about forty or fifty years ago.
Why I have used on my title-page, " From Pina-
fore to Gown," is readily enough explained. I
quickly found that the materials on hand would
soon swell to the proportions of a somewhat un-
wieldy volume, and I imagined that what I recol-
lected of Sillerton from boyhood till I entered
college, would be sufficient, in size and quality, to
test my chances of success as a faithful historian of
folk-lore.
I have contrived to throw what must prove a very
flimsy veil over places and individuals, but I feel
persuaded that if any one finds himself or his friends
portrayed in these humble pages, the recognition of
the likeness will not, under any circumstances, be
accompanied with pain.
I may add that I have attempted to sketch Siller-
tonians, certainly not as they should have been, but
such as they were ; if I fail to interest the reader, I
must pay the penalty of failure; if success crowns
my efforts, I shall not, in that case, present my
P. P. C. card.
D. A.
SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE.
CHAPTER I.
MY PINAFORE.
My eyes are dim with childish tears,
My heart is idly stirred;
For the same sound is in my ears
Which in those days I heard.
WORDSWORTH.
PINAFORE, did I say ? Yes, it was a blue pinafore
that I wore. Whether it was intended for orna-
ment or use, or perhaps for both 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-
fore 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
5
6 SCOTTISH 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 sprinkling 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
MY PINAFORE. 1
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 jingling 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 the 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
8 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE.
times, small hooks that pin things 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 delf ware that shone like old gold. With this stuck
in a pocket put in my new pinafore evidently for 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
and gathering my bouquet of daisies and primroses,
I 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 before. Out
of it I hud often looked, for Sandy Simms, the vil-
MY PINAFORE. 9
lage shoemaker, and I, notwithstanding the dis-
parity of ages, were good friends. Sandy 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.
in that quiet churchyard, on that calm and beauti-
ful Sunday morning, draw out of my pocket that
newly -acquired watch and with it coolly arid 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 I 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
" O Heaven ! to think of their white souls,
And mine so black and grim !
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. 11
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 makes cowards of us all. What
wonder then was it that my little ears ceased to
listen to the old stories that I had so often heard be-
fore from the eloquent lips of the kindly souter, or
that I had never forgotten the blue pinafore that I
had worn on that eventful and sadly -to-be-lam en ted
Sunday morning?
12 SCOTTISH 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 ploughboy's whistle and the milkmaid's song.
GRAHAM E.
SILLERTON, after all, 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 been wags in their way, and
given the name on the LUCKS a non lucendo princi-
ple, for siller did not lie about promiscuously in the
village, or in the parish either. It is true that there
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 that quantity must have been, seeing
that the manager, when trying to sell his goods one
SILLERTON AND ITS SURROUNDINGS. 13
market day to a jolly farmer who was moted 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
lung's we hae the same manager and the same part-
ners we are quite capable of drinking the haill browst
oursels." It is almost needless to say that the bib-
ulous manager got an order on the spot.
Sillerton then was somewhat like Rob Rorison's
bonnet. " It was not the bonnet, but the head that
was in it," and so with Sillerton : 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 Scotland 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
14 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE.
parish, and was composed of about two dozen dwell-
ing-houses, an 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 store, 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 carpenter's 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 be as they once were, what
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 what 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,
SILLERTON AND ITS SURROUNDINGS. 15
amongst the countless mounds that mark the last
resting-places of departed ones whom we never knew,
and of some, too, whom we knew right well and
whose memory, yet fresh and green, may bring a tear
to the eye and sometimes, alas ! a pang to the heart.
A framed board, attached to the church wall, is
eagerly scanned by the gathering crowd, anxious to
Iciim 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 elevated
above the ground, on which the beadle will by and
by take his stand, at the "skaihV o' the kirk," and,
in stentorian tones, announce the coming events of
importance that are on the tapis for the week, per-
haps ending with the pleasant announcement that
Jamie Robb, the pedler, will hold a riffle of Carse o'
Gowrie apples, handkerchiefs, and tobacco, on Wed-
nesday evening next, at the farm of Flechneuk, and
closing, 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 then found their proper
place among the advertisements of the daily or
weekly newspaper.
16 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE.
But, hush ! the bell has ceased tolling ; the wan-
derers among the 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 nmrmurings of love to each other,
and who now enter the sacred edifice by different
doors, for, strange to say, there were at least half 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
tones, opens the service of the sanctuary in the well-
known phrase " Let us worship God by singing to
His praise in the Hundredth Psalm."
SILLERTON AND ITS NOTABILITIES. 17
CHAPTER III.
SILLERTON AND ITS NOTABILITIES.
And the guid Culdees o' Sillerton
Might plead for King Malcolm's repose,
Wha vow'd to Sanct Andrew, their haly house,
For victory o'er his foes.
" The Devil's 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
18 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE.
lapidary's workshop, with a unique history of its own,
but now considerably remodelled, and almost covered
with ivy, and showing a Maltese cross upon either
gable, as if to indicate its now sacred character.
This building accommodated sufficiently a small
number of the parishioners who still clung to the
Episcopal form of worship, and who, along with about
a dozen aristocratic families who drove there from
considerable distances around, waited upon the min-
istrations of the Rev. 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 Sillerton, 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 was generally sup-
posed to have been built by Malcolm Carimore, King
of Scotland. Well it may be that Can more 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-
SILLERTON AND ITS NOTABILITIES. 19
ception displayed, though certainly in durability of
material used he takes the cake.
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 amount of overcharge or
undercharge of price for value received resembled
the breeches of King Robert the Bruce. 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 Robert rang,
Hia trews they cost but half a croon ;
He said they were a groat ower dear,
And ca'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
20 SCOTTISH FOLK-LOBE.
much the same as the cities in Galilee that Hiram
so heartily despised.
Now in attempting to describe the notabilities of
Sillerton, I feel it slightly difficult to decide exactly
where to begin. Are the greater or lesser lights to
come first ?
But, 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
dfiys, 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, tall 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
S1LLERTON AND ITS NOTABILITIES. 21
of story flowed from that little episode in his life !
Not Stanley 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 Laing described his
wonderful experiences on the round trip between
Sillerton and London.
The modern globe-trotter would have played only
second fiddle. I would not willingly touch the truth-
fulness of John'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 outcast and that were the devil to
carry him away, body and bones, there would be few
old wives in Scotland who would not take up the
chorus of that inimitable song of Burns
' ' We wish 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
22 SCOTTISH 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 Sillerton's usquebaugh with sugar and water than
in measuring the quantities that flowed into his
bonded cellars, or in tramping through 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. The 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 Mrs. 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 gauger should pro-
ceed thither, and that if cows were sold for any-
thing like feasible prices, he should become the
SILLERTON AND ITS NOTABILITIES. 23
purchaser of one, and at once bring his prize home
with him.
On the day of sale the exciseman sallied forth
accordingly to purchase the coveted cow. Thegauger,
however, no matter how competent he might be to
tell the quantity and quality of a cask of whisky,
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 sens 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
beforehand for the purchase, but as every member
of his family had long ere then gone to sleep, it
devolved upon Mr. M'Kay to make his cow com-
fortable for the night.
Somewhat later on his better half learned that the
cow was awaiting her attention, arid, armed with the
ordinary milking pail, she proceeded to business.
The result was almost fatal to Her Majesty's collector
of Excise. A quadruped was in the stable, Suit, alas !
the bovine characteristics were entirely wanting:
24 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE.
the obfuscated gauger had, instead of a cow, bought
a horse.
The wrath of Mrs. M'Kay needed no nursing to
keep it warm; it attained incandescent heat at
once ; and the hapless exciseman ! how did he fare?
Well, I would prefer not to penetrate too deeply into
the secrets of any man's fireside, but this I may say,
that if little milk came from the byre, there was a
corresponding scarcity of the milk of human kind-
ness everywhere about the ganger's surroundings
for some time. The wags of Sillerton did not
readily forget the oft-told story of the exciseman
leading home by a halter his so-called cow.
THE DOMINIE. 25
CHAPTER IV.
THE DOMINIE.
And still the wonder grew
That one small head should carry all he knew.
GOLDSMITH.
IN the tall house on the opposite side of the gate
lived the Reverend Louis Alexander Daff, M. A., the
parish schoolmaster. At the time I first recollect
the Reverend Louis, he had retired from some of the
duties of active life, and, in consequence, employed
an assistant, who attended to parochial duties, while
he himself enjoyed the major part of the revenue
that made the parish schoolmaster an envied man.
But, notwithstanding that the old dominie had not,
for several years, wielded the taws in training the
young ideas of Sillerton how to shoot, yet his history
was peculiarly green in the memories of his contem-
poraries, and how often has the writer of this
listened to the quaint stories of his life, and the
peculiar traits of character that he had shown
during an incumbency that had exceeded half a
century !
26 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE.
Could we but hear the village worthies, as they
gathered in the smithy on certain occasions, or while
they crowded the merchant's shop on a Saturday
evening, telling anecdotes of the old pedagogue, it
would be a treat that Max O'Rell himself might
long to enjoy. " Weel, he may be a very douce man
noo, but, by my certie, he wisna aye that," and so
out the story came, amongst many others, of how
Louis preached his first sermon at Sillerton ; in fact,
this is a species of Scottish bull, seeing that on the
occasion alluded to, when Louis certainly should
have preached, Louis did not preach at all.
We may just here state, for information's sake,
that the parish school was frequently the first rung
of the ladder that led to the parish church, and the
incumbent of the school of Sillerton, in his youth,
aimed, like most other dominies, at not only " shakin'
his head in a pu'pit," but at exchanging the ferula
of authority that he wielded for some cosy parish
church nay, perhaps for that of Sillerton itself,
which his father then occupied, and who, under
ordinary circumstances, might betimes require an
assistant and successor.
The old minister, therefore, was as anxious as his
son that the latter should become, as soon as pos-
sible, a licensed preacher of the Gospel, and thus
a fit candidate for any pastoral charge that might
T11E DOM IX IE. 27
offer. The ordinary sessions had been taken at the
Divinity Hall, thu ordinary examinations had been
undergone by the candidate for church patronage,
and after the last, Louis Alexander was licensed by
the Presbytery to preach the Gospel, the Presbytery
leaving it to the licentiate to choose some church,
within the 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, both in school and college days, and
where, perhaps, you might have made love to a few
of the prettiest maidens and there was truly no
lack of that commodity either in the village or in
the parish it was no easy matter for a participant
in all these vanities to cast off at once the old slough
of worldly-mindedness, trip up gayly the pulpit
stairs, and become at once the monitor, nay per-
chance, the judge, of those who had formerly (ah !
how short 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 FOLK-LORE,
he was, by his father's special request, to hold forth
to the parishioners of Sillerton. Days, nay, nights
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
Alexander was not a particularly happy man on
that eventful Saturday.
The work of the forenoon in the school engaged
his attention for some time, but as Saturday 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 ; maybe to get a glimpse of
THE DOMINIE. 29
some bonnie lassie that found it necessary to search
around for a seemly peat wherewith to " rest " her
fire for the night, for mind you those were yet
scarcely the days of lucifer matches. Well, strange
though it may seem, yet it invariably happened on
these Saturday nights, when curfew time came,
Jenny had difficulty in finding a suitable peat, and
just as she was almost giving up the task in
despair, Jocky chanced mark 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 homewards.
There is no doubt this should have been the case,
for the guidman and his helpmeet had long retired
to the privacy of their own chamber, but somehow
or other there was a difficulty in saying "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
30 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE.
has never been fully explained, the superlative
"good-night" seemed the hardest nut to crack in
the 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
difficulties that were sometimes encountered before
the lips could be framed to utter honestly that is,
without equivocation or mental reservation 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."
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, b* no Louis was
there j the sheets were cold the bird had flown.
SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE.
CHAPTER V.
THE DOMINIE, CONTINUED.
Gie him strong drink until he wink,
That's sinking in despair ;
And liquor guid to fire his bluid,
That's press'd wi' grief and care :
There 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., 6,7.
IN the last chapter it was suid that the ambitious
Dominie had retired to his own room. But, alas !
there was no rest there for him. Thoughts 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 DOM1X1E, CONTINUED. 33
to that sleep that would give him the respite of at
least a few hours. At length, however, his steps
somehow turned in the direction of Paradise, a
species of Oriental garden that graced one of the
many beautiful meadows of Sillerton, and where
the chief gardener was a crony of the schoolmaster.
Daff was wont to drop in occasionally there, and
generally before leaving there was produced a drop
of good Scotch whisky, just for auld lang syne, in
accordance with the habit and custom in those
days. But, out of respect to Mr. Daff s character,
we must say right here that he was universally
known as a strictly temperate man, and if his con-
duct that Saturday night was not precisely what it
should be, yet, if fall he did, he fell like better folk
in Paradise, and that the weakness which on that
occasion humbled him was never again, even
through a long lifetime, repeated.
John Tamson, the chief gardener, on the other
hand, was what the folk thereabouts called a
drouthy bodie. He was given to what were known
as " spates," and on those occasions, we fear, neg-
lected his duties as the chief custodian of Paradise,
and incensed accordingly his employer, Sir Archi-
bald Gamut, the old laird. Xay, it was known
that on one occasion Sir Archibald had, in great
wrath, dismissed his old servant, and had, there
3
34 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE.
and then, ordered him to look out for another
place.
The somewhat noisy sorrow of Tamson made a
very evident impression on his old master, who,
perhaps, in some degree relenting, demanded if he
had anything to say in his own behalf that might
stay the execution of the sentence that had .been
pronounced against him.
One peculiarity of Tamson was that while his
limbs, under the influence of innumerable glasses
of whisky, refused to be in any way directed by the
will of their owner, in fact produced what might
have been called a " locomotive strike," yet the
headpiece seemed to soar above such petty weak-
ness, and tongue and brain kept clear and cool as
ever. It has been said that this gift, if it might be
so called, was not confined to John Tamson, but
was a peculiarity of the folks of Sillerton, although
it has been said also to be common to most Scotch-
men, and in fact it has been not only whispered but
even printed, too, that an honest Scotch parson,
after a whole evening spent in recuperating an
exhausted frame, had been heard to say that he was
"michtily refreshed," the refreshment indicated on
this occasion being only thirteen tumblers of toddy.
Well, as to John Tamson, his limbs were sairly
out of order, but with a spade in one hand, and a
TI1E DOMINIE, CONTIX UED. 35
good grip of a yew tree, under which the laird and
he were standing, he was just able to articulate a
plagiarized verse of one the Psalms of David, and
parodized too at that :
" How lovely is thy dwelling-place,
Sir Ar-chi-bald, to me ;
The gravelled walks of Paradise,
Their like I'll never see."
When the old man reached the word " never " he
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 never 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 different from a genuine howl. The words
and music, however, produced a softening influence
upon 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 Daff's host on
that, memorable Saturday night.
The schoolmaster's story was soon told. The
<>ld-fnshioned blue bottle duly made its appearance.
A few glasses of the generous, soothing liquor
36 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 what 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 wi' fear he was o'ercome,
And partly he was drunk,
That night."
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 summer 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 "an equi-
librium that had been sadly disturbed amidst the
groves of Paradise, and as the sun 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 37
CHAPTER VI.
THE DOMINIE MOUNTED.
So stooping down, as needs he must
Who cannot sit upright,
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 hunts-
417318
38 SCOTTISH FOLK-LOBE.
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 Tarn o' Shanter's
carlin been behind him.
Bold Buffalo Bill was then a name unknown, and
cowboys had not as yet been evolved from the quiet
Scotch herd laddie, nor, in consequence, had their
feats on Mexican plugs or bucking mustangs been
exhibited in all their glory to awaken the admira-
tion or excite the rivalry of the British equestrian.
Without much schooling in the equinal 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. Many 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 cannon's mouth." 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. 89
falls on his shoulders, and the next thing we hear
of him is he is hunting buffalo with Blackfeet Indians
on the western prairies of America, or listening to
an original negro melod} 7 at the sources of the Nile.
Ah ! 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 him on far to
the eastward or westward of the boundary line
of the parish of Sillerton. The ambition of Duff,
such as it was, was circumscribed. That ambition,
though deferred for several years, was to possess a
horse, and to exhibit his figure upon that quadruped's
back every afternoon as far as the 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 were 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,
40 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE.
to which the slow, tranquil pace was the more
pleasing.
But hereby hangs a tale. Doctor Low, the village
medical practitioner, had exercised his profession
for some time in the district, for a doctor's field of
practice in those days extended frequently over
several parishes, and was bounded only by his repu-
tation, and the ability of his nag to carry him over
the long rides that he was often required to under-
take. Low was, without question, a harum-scarum,
a reckless horseman, and, for some reason unex-
plained, no admirer of the douce schoolmaster.
In Low's mind a suspicion had arisen why Daff's
equestrian exercises had never exceeded the simplest
movement, and overtaking him one day, just as lie
had turned his horse's head homeward, the mad doc-
tor at once proceeded to test the accuracy of his sus-
picions. Slipping up quietly, on his nag, behind the
unsuspecting Dominie, the doctor dealt Dobbin a
terrible cut with his whip over the hind-quarters.
The effect was electrical. Unused to such treat-
ment, the astonished brute threw his hind heels in
the air, and at a thundering gallop made for the
village as if something worse than a nest of hornets
was behind him.
That whip-cut also produced a very extraordinary
effect upon the horseman. His seat was naturally
THE DOMINIE MOUNTED. 41
anything but a good one, even at his usual pace, but
when, without any preliminaries, 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 changing sides, till the poor pedagogue seemed
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 equilibrium no matter how much that of
his body was disturbed. Danger he certainly felt,
but self-preservation 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 upon his horse's neck, left the flowing
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
42 SCOTTISH FOLK-LOBE.
his rider's importunities, while poor Dobbin, even
had all other things 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 Daff leading by a length.
The whole village man, woman, and child (there
were no canines 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 the 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.
Sillerton, in fact, in this proved that history often
repeats itself, for an ancient heathen poet says in
words that, freely translated into English, would
give the stanza as under
" By love of right, and native justice led,
In straight paths of equity they tread ;
Nor know the bar, nor fear the judge's frown,
Unpractis'd in the wranglings of the gown."
The sufferer had simply to grin and bear, and the
poor schoolmaster, on account of the many bruises
sustained by his lower limbs, was said to have worn
something resembling a kilt for ten days thereafter,
THE DOMINIE MOUNTED. 43
till the skin wounds were gradually and effectually
healed, though some mental and even physical scars
may have doubtless remained.
The village worthies delighted to tell this tale
when 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 come 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.
44 SCOTTISH FOLK-LOBE.
CHAPTER VII.
A DISSOLVING VIEW.
" The knights are dust ; their swords are rust ;
Their souls are with the saints we trust."
IT appears to the author of this simple yet au-
thentic narrative as if he had determined in his own
mind to write nothing about the 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 doubtless 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 DISSOLVING VIEW. 45
and blighted hopes there were, that death, in
summer's prime, might only faintly indicate; but
in life the silent lips kept their secret well, and
now the humble, 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 them
the clouds return not after the rain; it was the
laughter of the merry that still and ever kept ring-
ing in our ears. And so, when much of the grave
and sad has 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
superannuated schoolmaster of Sillerton, still claims
a few pages of notice ere he pass by to mingle with
the shadows of the past.
46 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE.
I can now see before me that old man, of whom I
have already said so much, weaned of the frivolities
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 place 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 he drives
save the mark! back and forth 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 own con-
nection with the Dominie's stable arrangements, and
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
A DISSOLVING VIEW. 47
days of a handy laborer sufficed to plant the kail
and potatoes in spring, and to house them when
autumn came. In fact the servant girl was a maid
of all work ; looked pretty much after the nag, and
faithfully bestowed upon the animal the 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 Daff been equal to the occasion,
a modern Hercules would have speedily been re-
quired to clean the Dominie's stable. But to fend
off such a dilemma, Daff, 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 exhorting the latter to study well
and faithfully the rudiments, 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 fd Jit, afternoon's drive. I 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
48 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE.
than by the regulation curry-comb. The fact was
that after a very small amount of rubbing down we
were accustomed to take the old horse out of the
stable, and with one boy on his back and another in
the rear armed with a good whip, we had 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-
dies," 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 dan gen isly slippery, and just as my
gallant steed turned the corner of the hen-house
our winning post man and horse came heavilj 7 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 missionary and
explorer, describes his sensations under the operat-
ing teeth of an angry lion, and concludes, from per-
sonal experience, that the rat in the clutches of his
A DISSOLVING VIEW. 49
natural enemy receives a sudden shock to his nerv-
ous system that banishes both fear and suffering,
and renders death 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 of falling I
was sensible of the imminent danger to life and
limb, but just then I caught a glimpse of the face of
the thunderstruck and irate old man glaring omi-
nously at me over the school fence.
For once in my life I played fox and lay still.
The old horse, with sundry wriggles and struggles
and groans, found his legs again, but I deemed it
more expedient not to find mine. Instantaneously
the wrath of old D;iiF disappeared in the stronger
feeling of fear lest one of his beloved Latinists had
been rendered hors 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 limp that at once developed,
it was plain that I must be hurt 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
50 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE.
fears of the Dominie at once vanished, 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 clearly particcps criminis, or
"airt and pairt" as we express it in Scotch, got off
as well. There were sly looks as we both sat down
in our places in the schoolroom to scan a few lines
in Virgil, the lesson for the afternoon, and the
assistant teacher, who somehow, probably from
information received from Daff 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, Quadruped-
ante putrem sonitu quatit unyula campum.
Personally we did not enjoy the joke. Sore
bones, and bruised muscles, and the abrasion of a
few square inches of cuticle on one's person are not
generally accompanied 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 Daff himself in years gone by, dismounted
for another reason forever we had hart our last
ride on Dobbin. It was more, however, to depict
the kindlier feelings of the village Dominie that this
A DISSOLVING VIEW. 51
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
pump 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 the 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.
Round 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 the
schoolhouse a mighty elm threw out a giant arm as
if to exchange courtesies with the old schoolmaster.
52 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE.
The steeple clock h;is just struck nine, but
scarcely has the last stroke sounded when a window
opens; a night-capped head looks out; a kindly
hand strews an abundance of crumbs upon the
window-sill; a low whistle is heard, and in an
instant the hoary elm is alive with birds. Roderick
Dim's whistle brought stalwart warriors innumer-
able from rock and tree and bracken bush, but Datf's
quiet signal summons countless songsters, appar-
ently from earth and heaven. The beautiful gold-
finch is there; the more sombre chaffinch; 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 tangible 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. 53
in Sillerton men who as boys stood on that play-
ground beside the schoolmaster, us lie dispensed his
praise and his pence to those who had treated his
pets with kindness, and who will perhaps recollect
that we did not always act on the square with the
old man.
Poor Dnff s eyesight had got dim, and his affec-
tion for birds and beasts was infinitely stronger than
his memory. And did we not play upon these
frailties ? Did not the jackdaw, that, five minutes
ago belonged to Jack, become in an instant the
property 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
stimulate 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.
How 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
54 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE.
until tbey influenced our whole lives, and sometimes
we could scarcely 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 I 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 will-
ingly, to the memory of the kind old man.
A DISSOLVING VIEW. 55
The end came calmly as the quiet of a summer
gloaming. The birds, as their wont was, flocked to
the unopened window, but no breakfast awaited
them that morning; the hands that had long dis-
pensed the crumbs to those that neither sow nor reap
were folded in rest ; the heart that had so often sent
forth its warm sympathies to the lower formations
of the Creator's hand 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 soon all
that was mortal of the Rev. Louis Alexander Daff
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
{>(> SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE.
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 equine or the 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 bestowed
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."
" He prayeth best who loveth best
All things both great and small ;
For the dear God who loveth vis,
He made and loveth all."
TUE STICKIT LA WYER. 57
CHAPTER VIII.
THE STICKIT LAWYER.
The poor inhabitant below
Was quick to learn and wise to know,
And keenly felt the friendly glow
And softer flame ;
But thoughtless follies laid him low,
And stain'd his name.
The Bard's Epitaph.
WE have looked into the last will and testament
of Louis Alexander Daff, whose tombstone still
adorns the quiet churchyard of Sillerton ; but ere
"we draw the curtain down," we would fain point
out one other scene in this connection, so to speak,
and touch, it may be but lightly, upon the other
members of the Daff family. There is little to be
said of them, but yet that little seems necessary to
(ill up and render complete, as it were, the back-
ground. Two maiden sisters and a ne'er-do-weel
brother, Sandy, complete the group.
Sandy was certainly an M. A. of Aberdeen, as we
shall see or hear, it may be, by and by, but he at-
tained the position of only a stickit lawyer, and
58 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE.
reached no higher. Some small provision had been
made for the two old maids, and with assiduous
care they were able to keep a roof over their heads
in a neighboring parish ; the said roof also, though
of heather, sheltered as well poor spendthrift Sandy.
Their brother the schoolmaster died in the spring,
and as the appointment of a successor would not
take place for some little time, a considerate friend,
the very reference to whom brings a tear to my eye,
suggested that it would be a work of charity to put
in a crop in the dead man's garden for the benefit of
the living members of the family. This was quietly
accomplished. The left hand, in this case, did not
know what the right hand had done. Potatoes had
been planted in the old monks' garden ; a reasonable
amount of labor had been bestowed upon them, and
when the autumn came the increase seemed to have
become at least thirty-fold.
I was then a stripling attending a neighboring
school, and passing every day the door of the Daff
family. It was now necessary to inform them what
had been done, and I had received a suitable message,
though it might have been altered in my mind and
memory as I hurried on to school. I knocked at the
humble door as directed, and instantly two .thin,
worn, ancient maidens stood before me, and rather
curtly demanded my business.
THE STICKIT LAWYER. 59
Somewhat confused, I blurted out " The taties
are ready for houkin' in the schoolyard o' Sillerton,
and your brither Sandy better gae up and look after
them." Ye gods ! what a scraich greeted me.
" Sandy ! What Sandy dae ye mean ? Sandy !
Sandy ! Sandy ! " rising in the inflection till the
last " Sandy " reached a note that I have never since
heard, even through the trained lips of a pri ma-
donna. " Ye aiblins mean Maister Alexander Daff,
our brither. He is nae Sandy, but a Maister o' Airts
of Aberdeen, for weel-a-wat our father paid good
siller for the honor Sandy, did ye say ? " But 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-house garden of Sillerton were boiled by
the maiden sisters of the Muster of Arts.
I remember well one of Sandy's tricks. Fond of
a little tobacco was he, but seldom was he able to
indulge 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
imminent 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
(50 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE.
twist ; a pipe was procured, no matter where, and I
had several times the pleasure of seeing the Master
of Arts smoking away contentedly (lie pests that
threatened to bring ruin upon his sisters' goose-
berries.
A whole week was spent in the conscientious per-
formance of duty, and had the sisters' purse held out,
Sandy Daft' would have smoked on, without one
grumble at the trouble it cost him, till the berries
were falling from the bushes, or to latter Lammas
for aught I know.
One incident more I shall relate to rill up the
background I have attempted 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 stickifc
lawyer! hence a misspent life, and smoking vile
tobacco beneath a gooseberry bush, when instead,
arrayed in silken gown, he should have been reaping
a golden harvest at the bar. But such, alas ! was
not for Sandy. Occasionally he reached Sillerton on
Saturday evening, but for what purpose it were hard
to say. Long habit, may have made the journey
chronic, if journeys ever become so, but the chance
of a drop of the barley bree was inducement enough
to him to walk a few miles on the pleasures of hope.
One Saturday evening he had, for probably good
THE STICK IT LA WYER. 61
cause, been turned out of the village shop. Sandy
bent to the inevitable, but he recollected and winced
under the insult. In those primitive days a monthly
market was held in the town of Inverurie, and there
congregated business men from every surrounding
district. Sandy was waiting and watching for his
revenge.
Down, next market day, came slowly about a
dozen riders from Sillerton. They must needs pass
very close to Daffs humble dwelling. As they ap-
proached, the Master of Arts rushed forward to meet
them, stood on the highway, and most obsequiously
lifted his hat to the shopkeeper, who was one of the
party, and who, little more then a week before, had
turned him out of his store.
Pleased by Sandy's attention, Baggs, who was a
vain man, drew up his nag, and addressed his re-
spectful friend. This was just what and all that
Sandy wanted. Emitting a series of sounds that
were admirably adapted to express his contempt, he
turned away hastily on his heel, muttering loud
enough to be heard by all the party " Excuse ine,
sir; I mistook you for a gentleman." If the scow T l
that came from one, and the roar of laughter that
rose from all the rest were worth anything, Sandy
had won a sweet revenge.
Not very long after, that small building was ten-
62 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE.
antless the two sisters had passed away and the
schoolmaster's brother, Sandy Daft', the Aberdeen
Master of Arts, soon followed. In him death gleaned
the last sheaf of the Daff family. Alas ! poor Yorick !
DM. LO W ' 6i WA TCH LOS T AXU FO UND. 63
CHAPTER IX.
DOCTOR LOW'S WATCH LOST AND FOUND.
Ye ken Jock Hornbook i' the clachan,
Deil mak' his king's-hood in a spleuchan ;
He's grown sae weel acquaint wi' Buchan
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. But I also
knew Low.
In a small " fell " biggin', in somewhat advanced
age, and alone, lived the old doctor. But Low's
occupation was gone. The places that knew him
once now knew him no more. Xew kings had risen
that knew not Joseph. Young science had made
strides that left the old practitioner behind. Like the
old three-deckers whose last shot had been fired, and
which now, giving place to the ironclads of a recent
64 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE.
day, lay stranded, useless hulks upon the shore, so
a younger and better educated class of medicals had
come in to place their predecessors high and dry
upon the shelf; and the old practitioners, if they had
failed to provide something for a rainy day, now
sank into abject poverty, or depended upon the
charity of one or two who enabled them to live with-
out knowing that they were actual paupers. Such,
alas ! was poor old Low.
Times had gone hard with the old man. Ah!
could he have lived upon the stories about himself
that the writer of this has listened to, he would have
died of obesity. And such stories, too ! Our grand-
fathers, and grandmothers also, had a plain way of
talking, and told tales in the drawing-room that
could not now be whispered in the kitchen, for the
modern cook would blush at the recital and the
pretty housemaid would play bopeep through her
fingers, and declare that old fellows like Low were
very naughty boys indeed.
Well, I may not, and shall not, tell all the funny
things that T have heard about the old doctor; but
one story at least may be told, and no one need
blush at its recital. Christmas and New Year were
drawing near, and all the parish was bent on enjoy-
ment. But there was one exception. In that turf-
built cottage an old man is sitting on his so-called
DR. LOWS WATCH LOST AND FOUND. Go
easy-chair; the little shell lamp that burns beside
him helps the December day to look longer than it
really is ; and the bright peat fire sheds a ruddy
glow (that would have charmed the eye of a Rem-
brandt,) over the old doctor's face, as my father and
I, after a quiet knock upon the door, lift the latch and
" step ben " as the cheery welcome strikes our ears.
With kindly tact the truth is elicited that funds
had never been at so low an ebb before; the Yule
and New Year that promised so much pleasure to
almost all, had no welcome tidings for poor, poverty-
stricken Low ; and as he dwelt fondly upon the rude
yet hearty experiences of merrymakings now long
gone by, and in which he himself played no unim-
portant part, a slight quaver came softly from his
lips, and one big tear of regret rolled down his
wrinkled cheek. The kindly visitor, however, had
not come there that evening to add to the old man's
sorrows, but to take some of them away if possible,
and in a quiet and sympathetic way it was suggested
that the doctor's gold watch should be shot for
on Old Christmas Day by the sporting youths of
Sillerton.
The passing of the watch into other hands would
have occasioned its present possessor no inconven-
ience whatever. It was now many years since the
old timekeeper had in fact struck work. Its owner
5
66 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE.
firmly believed that the motion connected with exer-
cise on horseback was necessary to bring out all its
sterling qualities, and that its silence now was caused
simply because its wearer no longer patronized the
gallop, but had descended to the more sober pace of
"Shank's mare." Be that, however, as it may, it
was then and there agreed to, that the gold watch
should be shot for at Mains of Pitfuffie on old
Christmas day ; that subscription lists should be at
once opened; and that the successful shot should
wear the gold watch. Quimeruitpalmamferat, was
the motto of our Sillerton Wapinschaw. Steadily
went on the canvass during the days that intervened
between that December evening and the day of the
great shooting match.
There was no limit to the number of subscribers ;
the ancient timepiece possessed a value that half-
crowns scarcely indicated ; and when the youth of
Sillerton stood to their guns on the heights of Pit-
fuffie on that bleak January morning (remember it
was old style that we kept then) it \v;ss found that
the old watch had realized for its owner nearly forty
pounds sterling, no small sum amongst that quiet
and simple people, and a perfect godsend to the im-
pecunious old man. The cash had all been deposited
in the hands of the umpire, the rules and regulations
had been duly read, and the firing briskly began.
DR. LOW'S \VATCI1 LOST AND FOUND. 67
Old Christinas was certainly a legal holiday in
Sillerton, though there were neither bank clerks nor
Government officials there to enjoy their privileges,
and it devolved upon the schoolboys alone, with a
few dozen ploughmen and hobbledehoys of the par-
ish, to demonstrate that this was a day to be de-
voted fully and freely to social liberty and enjoy-
ment. Steadily from morn to night the guns blazed
away, and the roll of subscribing marksmen was
not completed until the shades of evening began to
creep across the scarred brows of Bennachie. No
shot had gained a bull's eye, though there were a
score at least of ties that had almost grazed the
black ball that marked the centre. These ties were
about to be shot off, when the remark was made
that my father, who had collected nearly nine-tenths,
of the whole amount, and who was as well a liberal
subscriber, was not on the ground, and had not
claimed a shot.
It was then and there carried by acclamation that
a shot should be fired on his behalf, his proxy being
the exciseman, who was unquestionably the best shot
in the parish. It was agreed, at the same time, that
the ties should be fired off after the ganger's shot.
A few moments of intense suspense came; the ex-
ciseman during that time looked as if carved out of
Millstonehill granite; a puff of blue smoke at last
68 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE.
came from the old musket, while every breath was
hushed, and every eye strained to catch a glimpse
of the now battered target. The marker quietly
and deliberately performed his duty, and then lei-
surely faced the expectant crowd. At last the sig-
nal came a bull's eye! One shout rose over the
field ; no ties had to be shot off; the watch, the gold
watch of the old doctor, had been waged and won,
and in less time than it takes to tell it, I was hurry-
ing homeward with that gold watch nestling in my
breast pocket, while the temporary custodian of the
same felt as proud and happy as if he had won and
worn the Victoria Cross.
What were the thoughts that passed through my
mind as I sped homewards that evening, I can
scarcely tell. Probably I thought that as my father
required but one watch, I was likely to become tl.e
happy owner of the gold one, but if not of that cov-
eted prize, yet I felt that one of the watches must
fall to my lot, assuredly under any circumstances.
No sooner had my father arrived than I hastened
to exhibit to him the trophy that he had won. He
assured me that there was some mistake, as he had
claimed no shot. I then recounted the occurrences
of the day, and the firing of the shot that made the
bull's eye. I shall never forget the look of sadness
that stole over his features as I told my story. Prob-
DR. LOW'S WATCH LOST AND FOUND. 69
ably lie felt in his own mind that I was too young
to take it upon myself to refuse the prize, but I
know I felt supremely happy at that moment that I
had expressed no craving for the ownership of the
doctor's watch, and I believe he never once suspected
the nature of my feelings. " Go," said he, " at once
to Dr. Low ; give him again his watch with my com-
pliments and say that I hope he may be long spared
to wear it." Then in a low voice he added " I would
not that that old man should fall asleep this night
without his watch, no, not for all the gold watches
that were ever made."
As I placed the prize half an hour later in the old
doctor's hand, with my father's compliments and
wishes, I heard no word of thanks spoken, but a
silent tear stole down the furrowed cheek. I had
seen a tear there once before ; a tear of regret as he
looked backward to a prosperous and merry past
that could never return, and as he felt and feared
that only a gloomy future was in store for him.
The tear that came now was the handmaid of a
grateful heart, and whispered a message of deepest
thanks that no langunge could have expressed so
well. I returned home glad that I no longer wore a
watch. Did my father feel that night that it was
more blessed to give than to receive ?
70 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE.
CHAPTER X.
HOW MARY MITCHELSON DISHED HER HUSBAND'S
BROSE.
" She has an ee, she has butane,
The cat has twa the very color,
Sic a wife as Willie 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 Torres, 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 I called her, but probably I
should have designated her Mrs. 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
11O \V MARY MITCIIELSON DISHED THE BROSE. 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 workshop,
it was no wonder that Geordie Brodie often returned
home weary, ay, weary and hungry as well. This
was just as it should be under ordinary circum-
stances; and when there was the wherewithal to
satisfy the cravings of hunger, the fact itself should
have suggested a feeling of gratitude, for our na-
tional bard puts it thus
" Some hae meat and canna eat.
And some wad eat that want it ;
But we hae meat and we can eat,
Andsae the Lord be thankit."
72 SCOTTISH FOLK-LOBE.
I have said that the sawyer should have been
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 healthy, hungry man. Mary,
in fact, must have been first cousin to Mrs. Squeers,
of Do-the-boys Hall, though 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 philosopher 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 taste his usual allowance.
HOW MA R Y Ml TCIIEL SON DISHED THE BROSE. 73
Mary, instead of yielding that obedience that she had
doubtless once promised, bitterly resented her hus-
band's "evil temper," as she was pleased to call it,
and brooded in silence over her own fancied wrongs.
During the following day the same feeling absorbed
her thoughts, until near the time when preparation
had 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. The trough
was duly placed on the table where Geordie Brodie's
cap of brose usually stood ; a large quantity of oat-
meal, butter, and boiling water were stirred together
in the lordly dish, and with a grim smile of satisfac-
tion, Mary awaited the denouement.
74 SCOTTISH FOLK-LOME.
She had 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. Her 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-
no w MA n r MITVIIELSON DISHED THE BROSE. 75
ing sarcasm came more freely find naturally from
her lips than commendation and praise. Sarcasm,
indeed, with Mary Mitchelson was always upon a
hair-trigger.
Once more we venture to fill up a background.
The son, Geordie junior, was a pupil 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 ! where 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
76 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE.
you expect out of Leochel?" Leochel, I may
explain, was the native parish 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."
y UEEN' S SCOTCH AS SPOKEN IN KILLER TON. 77
CHAPTER XI.
THE QUEEN'S SCOTCH AS SPOKEN IN SILLERTON.
But he, I ween, was of the north countrie.
BEAT-TIE'S " Minstrel."
IT was stated in the foregoing chapter that Mary
Mitchelson spoke a dialect somewhat different from
that used in Sillerton. At the same time it may be
explained, that, for causes to be given, the Scotch
of the Sillertonians was not precisely identical with
that spoken in other parishes of tho Garioch, and
especially in places lying to the west and north of
the parish.
It is curious 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 com urn-
78 SCOTTISH FOLK-LOBE.
nity of Roman Catholics living snugly in some
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
Painters, 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. Sillerton was, in one respect, somewhat
ambitious, and amongst the farmers who cultivated
its fair meadows and sunny slopes there were
several who had enjoyed the privilege of a college
QUEEN'S SCOTCH AS SPOKEN IN SILLERTON. 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 scholars, 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 ill
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
80 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE.
remark of a pawky farmer of Sillerton in corrobora-
tion of this assertion on our part. A neighbor
remarked that his "orra" man spoke in a style
quite different from that used by the other servants.
"Oh, aye," said the carl, "I ance sent Jock on
some business to the Lothians ; he was awa a hale
fortnicht, 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 noted
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
QUEEN'S SCOTCH AS SPOKEN IN SILLERTON. 81
the speaker intended to use, and the Rev. Mr. Wil-
son, of Aberlour, spoke Scotch because he liked to
speak it, and because probably he found himself
more at home in it than were he using the Queen's
English. But 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
" Tullochgorum." 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 syllable of the name of the hero, which
is unquestionably short. Of course it might be
pleaded that there are certain "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
82 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE.
hundred. This was undoubtedly a species of poetical
license, but among my own personal clerical friends
there were a half-dozen at least, who, in certain
vowel sounds, and especially when in the pulpit,
used, liberties with the Queen's English positively
startling, and it always appeared a puzzle to me
how such pronunciation could have been acquired.
But such it was.
Doubtless, the introduction of railways, and a
freer intercourse between the natives on both sides
of the Tweed have done much during the last half-
century to enable even the more highly-educated
Scot to distinguish correctly between the different
sounds of the same vowel, and we doubt not, that
the next northern bard who tries his hand at a new
version of " John o' Badenyon " will steer clear,
without difficulty, of those solecisms that were ere-
while committed by the genial pastor of Linshart.
I knew intimately a very excellent divine on
Donside; a man distinguished for his learning;
valued and honored in Church courts; eloquent
either on the platform or in the pulpit ; and above
all one of the most genial of men, and yet as to his
pronunciation of the Queen's English he was a veri-
table barbarian. The witty editor of an Aberdeen
weekly remarked, that it was a pity that the learned
and popular minister of T had, in his youth, got
S SCOTCH At> SPOKEN IN SILLERTOX. 83
a spurious edition of Walker's pronouncing dic-
tionary.
But, after all, are these things to be considered
strange in the case of Scotchmen, when we find
Englishmen themselves sometimes, nay oftentimes,
anything but correct in the pronunciation of their
own language ?
I have heard in an English Cathedral from the
lips of a graduate of an English University, and
from one, too, enjoying those marks of distinction
after his name that stamp men eminent for scholar-
ship I have heard, I say, false pronunciation of
English that was perfectly startling. Need we
wonder then when we hear an educated Scotch-
man calling a Presbyterian Synod " this reverend
coort," or employing equally eccentric modes of
speech that should have been eliminated, if not in
the nursery, then in the parish school ?
I may remark here, that the inspectorship of
schools also, in connection with bequests that ap-
plied to our parochial system, made it imperative
that a sound English education should be given in
our schools, and while the classics and mathematics
scarcely jarred with the pure Doric of the Garioch,
yet with the teaching of English it was quite differ-
ent.
It was indeed difficult to find teachers in those
84 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE.
days who had anything like a correct idea of the
different vowel sounds, and how could they, under
the circumstances? Many of our teachers held that
English grammar was unnecessary where the Latin
grammar had to be taught, and hence, while spell-
ing and some other things were correct enough, yet
the pronunciation was sadly defective.
Here, however, is a case in point. The inspector
of the Dick Bequest was examining a school not far
from the shady side of Bennachie, and took occasion
to correct a class for their inattention to the different
sounds of the vowel " u," the word "bull" having
occurred in the lesson, and pointing out in the dic-
tionary key, how the vowel should be sounded in
different words. The dominie could not stand this,
but interrupted the proceedings with the remark,
"Xn, na, sir; it's bull, full, pull," pronouncing the
three words in the broadest Doric, Scotch, "an' the
loons are richt."
This may be an exceptional case, but doubtless
its existence in a greater or less extent brought it
about, that when a vacancy occurred in Sillerton,
the place was filled by young men who had enjoyed
a town training in addition to the usual classical
education. This was truly the piece of leaven that
leavened the lump.
Old Louis Alexander Daff indoctrinated his pupils
QUEEN' S SCOTCH AS SPOKEN IN SILLERTON. 85
with as pure Latinity as we got from the more modern
teachers, but the latter taught us English Grammar,
and gave us such a pronunciation of English as would
enable us to become tutors in any of our more
ambitious Scotch families, or even successful
teachers beyond the border in English schools.
Gentle reader, bear in mind that it is not here
pretended that the youths of Sillerton succeeded in
acquiring an English accent. No, no; not often do
we find Scotchmen who do this, and while we
occasionally meet our countrymen who were perhaps
educated in England, and who had been long strang-
ers to the land of the heather, speaking a language
that would scarcely indicate their nationality, yet
when we enter into familiar conversation with them,
there generally slips out a word or phrase that be-
trays its northern origin. It is not universally the
case that the accent remains, but it is very frequently
so, and in proof I may mention an incident that
happened in my own experience. Dining at a mess
table, where I had the honor of performing the
duties of regimental chaplain, an English lady who
sat next to me said, " How is it that Scotchmen so
often retain their Scotch accent, even after many
years' absence from Scotland ? I have often asked
the question, but I confess that I have never received
a satisfactory answer." I replied that I felt satisfied
86 SCOTTISH FOLK-LOBE.
that it would be unnecessary for her to ask the same
question again, as I could give a conclusive answer.
" How is it then ? " she inquired. Raising my head,
and looking as dignified as possible. I replied, " We
are proud of our accent."
"Ah ! I just thought as much."
There was a slight lull in the conversation, and I
very quietly threw in the additional information,
" But, madam, there is another reason, for were we
to try to get rid of our accent I do believe that
we would find it impossible." It is needless to
say that I brought down the house and that my
fair questioner laughingly remarked, " I am quite
satisfied now."
I shall close this chapter with showing the care
that our pedagogues took not only in teaching what
they held to be pure English, but in getting their
pupils to read with an eye to punctuation as well,
without which the sense of the passage might have
escaped them altogether. A neighboring teacher
foil upon the unique plan of getting his pupils to
pronounce the word "tick"' whenever a comma
occurred in a sentence; a semi-colon and colon re-
ceived two "ticks," while the full stop elicited three
" ticks." This was to be practised, however, for a
short time only, and as the school examination
approached, the "ticks" were duly dropped, and
QUEEN'S SCOTCH AS SPOKEN IX SILLERTON. 87
"dummy ticks," so to speak, were used instead.
The great day at last came, and the Bible-class was
paraded for duty. Unfortunately the dux had been
absent for a few days, and had not been made aware
of the new order for abolishing the " ticks."
The chapter for the day was duly pointed out, and
the dux, evidently in his nervousness, skipping
several important parts of the passage, yet, in a clear
and distinct voice, astonished the listening divines
with a new rendering of the Scripture lesson :
t; And the Lord said unto Moses, tick, say unto the
children of Israel, tick, tick ; and Moses said unto
the children of Israel, tick, tick, tick."
And lastly, as some of our preachers were wont
to say, even after the conclusion, I shall instance the
case of Willie Nuckel, so called, a crofter in the
village, who nearly lost his croft by inattention to the
due punctuation of his speech, if I may so designate
the blunder. Nuckel evidently had never been duly
drilled in school days in the proper use of the " ticks,"
and in consequence nearly came to grief. Nuckel
was the owner of a horse called Diamond, why so
called I am now unable to say probably for some
excellent qualities that the animal possessed. In
those days few pedestrians were allowed to pass
through the Home Park, which separated the laird's
residence from the village of Sillerton, and to be
FOLK-LORE.
seen there with a horse and cart, or in fact with any
vehicle whatever, would have been considered a
species of sacrilege.
Nuckel, however, had received orders from the
proper quarter, and early one morning was met by
the laird while carting a load of fallen branches from
the said park to the village. The somewhat irate
proprietor demanded of Nuckel, and not in very
pleasant tones, why and what he was carting there.
Nuckel was decidedly in a hurry, and was little
inclined to parley with any one, the only words heard
by the squire being, " Sticks for the forester ye
brute Diamond, get up."
Poor Nuckel was served with the usual notice to
leave his croft and cottage at next Martinmas, the
laird having imagined that the word " brute " was
applied to himself personally. A due explanation
stayed the sentence, and Nuckel sleeps in Sillerton
churchyard. The obnoxious epithet, after all, was
really not intended for the laird, but for the horse:
but still the proper application of the "tick" in the
right place, would have in this case saved days and
weeks, nay, months, of misery.
JANE BAIWEN ' S MILK FOR BABES. 89
CHAPTER XII.
JEAN BARDEN'S MILK FOR BABES.
Though the " Brownie o' Blednoch " lang be gane,
The mark o' his feet's left on mony a stane ;
An' mony a wife an' mony a wean
Tell the feats of Aiken-drum.
E'en now, light loons that jibe an' sneer
At spiritual guests an' a' sic gear,
At the Glashnoch mill hae swat wi' fear,
An' looked roun' for Aiken-drum.
And guidly folks hae gotten a fright,
When the moon was set, and the stars gied nae light,
At the roaring linn in the howe o' the night,
Wi' sughs like Aiken-drum.
The Brownie o' Blednoch.
I OFTEN wonder if those who were most zealous in
indoctrinating our young minds with all the 'super-
stitions of those days ever reflected on the great
wrong they were doing. I wonder if they ever
thought that it would take, in some cases, the
effort of years to root out the weeds that they were
then so anxious to sow ; nay, that in some cases so
deeply would these weeds penetrate into the mind,
90 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE.
that they would grow with our growth, and
blossom as freely in old age, as when we clung to
our mother's apron strings.
It is said that noted travellers who have spent
years amongst savage tribes, even when they return
to civilization, dread to hear a footstep behind them,
and peer cautiously into a room before they enter it.
And men I have personally known, who had borne
themselves bravely through many a hard-fought
and bloody field, yet when the shadows of night
came down, would not have gone alone a hundred
yards in the dark, no matter what the bribe might
be that sought to tempt them. And all this, at
least in the latter case, very probably originated in
the habit, doubtless long established, of telling
stories of a blood-curdling character to the young.
Jean Barclen was pre-eminently the story-teller of
Sillerton. It was true that the meal-miller could
spin a wonderful yarn about water-kelpies and
their strange doings, and how the miller word,
when properly and artistically handled, could in-
stantaneously arrest a water-wheel in full career
and perform sundry other wonderful things all of
which tales were greedily swallowed by many of
the miller's audience, for audience he often had
when the first oats of the season began to arrive at
Damhead. But the burly miller could not hold a
JANE BARDEN '5 MILK FOR BABES. 91
candle to Jean, who, both in yield and variety, dis-
tanced every competitor.
The fact is, that at this distant date, it would be
difficult to specify exactly the points possessed by
Jean that enabled her to outstrip all other rivals.
It is possible that one point was the variety of
beings of supernatural origin that filled her reper-
toire.
The miller had only two strings to his bow the
miller word and the water-kelpie; the blacksmith,
during the intervals that occurred between the
hammering of the iron and the reheating of it
again, dealt chiefly with feats of manly strength
that he had witnessed ; while the tailor and his
apprentice, who made periodical visits to Sillerton
to re-clothe the males of the village in new gar-
ments, retailed pretty much the gossip that they
jL^tiiiered during their wanderings throughout
the country, and which, in those quiet times, when
"dailies" were yet undreamt of, were alike inter-
esting to high and low, and young and old.
I had almost forgotten little Sandy Simms, the
cobbler, but I am now under the impression that
his forte lay in relating stories that very graphic-
ally brought out the pawky character of Scot-
tish humor. But Jean operated in another field
altogether the horrible in what was human, and
92 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE.
the blood-curdling in what was supernatural, being
the commodities in which she dealt. Nor was her
stock of these by any means limited, as kelpies,
goblins, fairies, brownies, elves, ghosts, wizards,
witches, and sundry others of a kindred nature,
were to her household words. Had she been re-
quested to describe these, I doubt not Jean would
have done so with ease, and classified them to the
entire satisfaction of the most exacting scientist.
Then, in addition to melancholy songs and ballads,
all invariably of a lugubrious character, and cover-
ing a wide field of weird literature, her vivid imagi-
nation, and her peculiar faculty of finding suitable
words to express her meaning, would alone have
made her remarkable in any community. To us
she certainly was remarkable, and charmed us as
the snake charms its unresisting prey.
Jean, along with her husband and family, occu-
pied a small cottage in the village square of Siller-
ton. Her husband, the only Seceder, we believe, in
the parish, we mean apart from a few members of
the Episcopal Church, was wont on winter evenings
to wend his way after supper to the house of a
neighbor, where politics and religion were freely
discussed. Jean was thus pretty much left to her
own devices during the evening, and she employed
her time thoroughly. I see that kitchen now, just
JANE BARDEN'S MILK FOR BA13ES. 93
as I used to see it fifty years ago. There is only an
earthen floor, and apart from the dim light that is
supplied by half a dozen smouldering peats, the only
attempt at lighting the humble apartment is by a
splinter of fir root stuck in a link of the crook or
chain that hangs in the chimney, and as one of these
primitive candles is consumed, another is lighted
and put in its place.
As if by concert, at a certain hour every evening,
the youngsters of the village congregate in Jean's
kitchen. The few stools and benches, or deeces,
more properly called, that were distributed round
the kitchen are soon filled by the expectant crowd.
But I had almost forgotten the seat of honor on
these occasions. This was at the two opposite sides
of the capacious chimney which stretched half across
the gable of the house, and where three or four
urchins could easily find both snug and ample quar-
ters. These seats were, however, difficult to obtain,
and were for two reasons much sought after by
the audience. The first reason was, that on a cold
winter night, there was a warmth there not to be
found in any other part of the house, and the second
was (we will own a somewhat peculiar one) that the
occupants of these seats could not be attacked from
the rear, and no matter what happened, they were
comparatively safe in that quarter.
94 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE.
Jean Barden sits on, or rather in, one of these huge
wooden four-poster chairs that have become fash-
ionable again, but now wearing brighter colors
than their more homely prototype. Without any
preliminary remarks whatever, Jean commences her
tale of the evening, and with little or no interruption,
except from a renewal of a light that had burned
out, or on account of a chip of fir that had accident-
ally fallen down, the tale goes on for at least an
hour and a half.
At this distant date, I could not restore, so to speak,
one story that Jean ever told, but there are certainly
pieces of many of them that still cling tenaciously
to the memory. Just read over the horrors that
Tarn O'Shanter sa\v in Alloa Kirk, and you will have
a fair idea of the species of literature on which we
feasted on those wintry nights.
One evening we had a ghost story in all its weird
associations ; a ghost that came and went like a
gleam of light; some unquiet spirit perhaps that
left the earth with some momentous secret upon its
soul, and that was permitted to revisit scenes with
which it was once familiar in the flesh, in order to
communicate what it knew to some one bold enough
to demand its errand.
At another time we had stories connected with
troublous times when fire and sword swept even the
JANE BARDEN'S MILK FOR BABES. 95
peaceful Garioch; while occurrences of the "45"
were reproduced, but all tinged with those shades
of coloring that Jean's skilful hand knew so well
how to apply.
Then, again, we had the account of some dreadful
murder that had once been committed within the
bounds. The circumstances care all laid before us ;
the culprit is described and produced in Court ; the
trial takes place once more ; the prisoner is found
guilty ; the judge puts on the terrible black cap of
doom ; the ghastly gallows appears, and the tragedy
ends with probably a few verses of a melancholy
song that the unhappy man is supposed to have com-
posed on the very morning of his execution, some-
thing, in fact, finding a counterpart in the Banff
freebooter who
" Played a tune and danced it roun'
Beneath the gallows-tree."
As to robberies, they were numerous " as leaves
in Vallombrosa," and had comparatively little inter-
est unless some one was shot or knifed on the oc-
casion. In fact, things of the ordinary class had no
charms for us. Of dismal love-stories also there
were not a few, and in all these cases the course
never did run smooth. Stern fathers and unfeeling
mothers arose to forbid the banns ; there were in-
96 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE.
superable difficulties that could not begot over, and
in consequence, we had a whole school of " Mill o'
Tiftie's Annies," and too frequently the conclusion
poured forth the melancholy wail
" My true love died for me to-day ;
I'll die for him to-morrow."
In fact Jean's chamber of horrors would not have
yielded to that of Madame Tussaud, and was dif-
ferent only in this, that the wax figure appealed
simply to the eye, and was dumb, while Jean's bril-
liant imagination not only placed the individuals
before the mental eye, but made each one tell his
own tale. Truly the dry bones that Jean Barden
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 appearances of animated life, and speedily
found 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 all
knew well. In fact, there were few lonely places in
the parish without some brownie, or fairy, or boodie
of evil odor associated with it.
JANE HARDEN '8 MILK FOR BABES. 97
And there we sat and shivered, and listened with
rapt attention while the story sped on its way ;
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.
None of us had very far to go, but short as was the
distance that intervened between Jean Burden's
kitchen and my father's house, I would 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
98 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE.
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
at 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 had the whole been
known.
JANE BARDEN 'S MILK FOR BABES. 99
I shall now step into the witness-box, and to show
the unwholesomeness of such milk as Jean ladled
out to the youngsters of Sillerton, I shall honestly
relate what I experienced on the very first trip that
I made, after nightfall, and alone. I had been prom-
ised a pair of " Bantams," by a farmer living some-
where beyond Pitcaple 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 harvest work in the
distant fields, and so it happened that before 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 I passed during the daj*, and
there was a noise of rushing waters that kept me
pondering on the bank for some time. At last,
100 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE.
however, realizing the fact that home lay beyond
the ford, and recollecting that Donald could swim
well, and so could his master, I pushed on and
through, and found that the stillness of night and
the deep gloom had both combined to make things
look worse than they actually were.
Gaudy crossed and left behind, new troubles and
fresh horrors came. The road passed along the
base of Bennachie, and in many places, as I came
nearer Sillerton, I mean the boundaries of the parish,
it was approached on both sides by deep woods that
sometimes completely overshadowed it. Then there
were unearthly, uncanny sounds that fell harshly
upon the ear; the roe deer would occasionally make
a startled run from approaching footsteps, and the
short yap of the disturbed fox, as he scurried across
the road, had a most depressing effect upon my
spirits. Courage I had almost said, but no : all the
courage I once had had oozed out. It required a
supreme effort of the will to enable me to make any
progress whatever, even under the most ordinary
circumstances, and when more than ordinary dan-
gers seemed near well, then, a shake of the basket
which started a cackle of the fowls huddled within
it, and a quiet but fervent repetition of the Lord's
Prayer, gave me renewed strength and backbone, and
I trotted on.
JANE HARDENS MILK FOR BABES. 101
The Howe o' Cogharcl was my last painful experi-
ence on that eventful journey. Jean Barden 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 occasion 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,
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 "E\vie wi' the Crookit
Horn "
" O ! gin I had the loun that did it,
Sworn I liar, as well as said it,
Tho' a ' the warld should forbid it,
I wad gie his neck a thraw,"
THE POOR PRIOR TO THE 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 were
denominated the poor. I do not mean to say that
there were really no paupers, but poverty, at least
in country places, did not appear very oppressive.
Most people put forth an effort to aid in support-
ing their poor relations ; the Kirk-Session sent, per
the hands of the elders, a quarterly dole of a few
shillings to gladden the hearts of the aged recipients ;
occasionally there were charities that provided a
pittance for the deserving poor, and almost always,
there were milk and meal, and perhaps 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 one or two
104 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE.
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 manage 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 the poor, under the 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,
that, 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 how 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
THE POOH PRIOR TO THE POOR LAWS. 105
people, who had, perhaps, in younger days, been em-
ployed as laborers on the farm. Did I say
"cottages?" Well, that would be 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 had
received much 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 occupants and the footsteps of time being
deemed sufficient to render this primitive floor fit
for the purpose it was intended to serve. There
was generally but one bole, or small window, look-
ing out to the south ; two windows being in order
when the dwelling boasted a " but and a 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 respectable name of
a chimney, but which, at the same time, did duty
for that excellent institution.
I do not mean to insinuate in the slightest degree
that these huts were not comfortable, and that their
occupants were not quite contented with them ; but
106 SCOTTISH FOLK-LOBE.
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, though 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
large 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 occasional trips to visit her.
Willingly would he have built a chimney, but the
oi<l 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 yonr humble
servant, then 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 PHIGR TO THE POOR LAWS. 107
ously," I may cull it, in that primeval forest of yel-
low pine that then mantled the banks of the Chau-
diere, 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, hi 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
108 SCOTTISH FOLK-LOBE.
woods been in force, we might bave submitted with
a good grace to the smudge that was constantly and
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 gave
him no trouble whatever to unfold his opinion on
the matter. " Well, gentlemen," said the ex-private
of 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
some of the boys may find fault with the cooking."
Having delivered himself of this oracular response,
Farley left us to our own meditations, and quickly dis-
THE POOP PRIOR TO THE POOR LAWS. 109
appeared in the commingling cloud of smoke and
steam that whirled and floated around and above the
blazing caboose. It was very evident to us that there
were other things that troubled more the anxious
cook than the vile pyroligneous acid that might 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 the 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 homoeopathists
Similia similibus 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
110 SCO TTISU FOLK-L ORE.
from the miniature window than from the peat fire
that smouldered on the hearth. But yet the occu-
pants were contented therewith ; they did not really
require 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
in 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 able to care in every way for himself.
In James's hut there was no window whatever, and
nil 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 winter. Marnoch was one of her
favorites, and generally received a visit trom his
benefactress occasionally during the summer.
THE POOR PRIOR TO THE POOR LAWS. Ill
Late in autumn she left for England, but before
leaving, usually constituted my father her almoner,
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. He 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.
112 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE.
One source of earning a few shillings now and then
came to those poor creatures, at least to the women,
in the way of knitting stockings and other clothing.
There was always a demand for such articles
amongst a class, that had neither the inclination ii'r
perhaps the time to do such work, and where tlie
small charge made was certainly a temptation to get
the knitting done elsewhere than at home. Utit
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 supplied 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 remark 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
11IE POOR PRIOR TO THE POOR LAWS. 113
certainly uo Sillertonkin Thomas Hood arose to
awaken the torpor 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 comforts 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 manufacture 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 clay 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
Davie had made a failure, and cheerily remarked,
" Weel, Davie, are ye gain' name 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
114 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE.
An opportunity soon offered. A patient of the
doctor, in spite of all that science and care had done
for him, went the way of all flesh. The funeral
cortege was passing along the street on the way to
the churchyard, and the doctor was walking behind
the hearse with the sorrowing relatives. Davie
chanced to be on hand, and saw, at a glance, that his
opportunity had come. Rushing forward to the
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,
unmerited.
LICENSED BEGGARS. 115
CHAPTER XIV.
LICENSED BEGGABS THE FATUOUS AND INSANE.
Angels and ministers of grace defend us !
Hamlet.
IN the last chapter, in stating what I knew about
the poor before the poor laws were enacted, there
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
wandering 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 parishes,
116 SCOTTISH FOLK-LOBE.
and I have in my possession a document, issued by
the kirk-session of Forbes, which will clearly enough
show that such were perhaps common enough. The
document referred to is as follows:
These testify that the Bearer hereof Jean Bay, Sister to
Isobel Bay, Spouse to Arthur Mitchell in the Parish 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} 7 ; and his
Parents being reduced to Straitning Circumstances, and
having other two young children incapable thro' Nonage
to do anything for themselves, are obliged to employ the
said Jean Bay the Child's aunt to supplicate and beg from
charitable and well-disposed Persons for the said helpless
objects Sustenance and Relief. Therefore the Kirk -Session
of Forbes did, and hereby do, earnestly recommend the
said Jean Bay to the Charity of all within the united Par-
ishes of Forbes and through Burgh and Land, for her own
and the said great Objects Relief : which in name and by
appointment of the said Kirk-Session is attested at Forbes
the twenty-ninth Day of December, One thousand seven
hundred and fifty-six, by,
ALEXANDER OREM Moderator.
Alford Feb. 24th 1757.
That the Bearer the above named Jean Bay is really an
Object of Charity, as having the Burthen of the above
Arthur Mitchell's Children is attested by,
ALEXANDER JOHNSTON Minister of Alford,
PATRICK THOMSON Minister at Tough,
WILLIAM MILNE Minister at Kildrummie,
FRANCIS ADAM Minister at Cushny,
THEODORE GORDON Minister at Kenethmont,
PATRICK REID Minister at Clat.
The capital letters, commas, etc., are the same as
LICENSED BEGGARS. 117
in the original. This licence to beg is duly printed
on a tough, dark-colored paper, and very distinctly
shows tear and wear. How long it was carried
about through the vale of Alford and surrounding
districts to advance the claims of Patrick Mitchell
and others I know not ; either the imbecile boy or
his devoted nurse may have died in the parish of
Sillerton, and the certificate alone remained to show
the miserable parochial provision existing in Scot-
land in the year of grace 1756 for her fatuous poor.
Such documents are still issued in the province
of Quebec, but lacking generally the formality of
the Scotch one. May we draw the inference, that
we are here, in some things at least, more than a
century behind the civilization of Aberdeenshire?
So much, then, for our duly accredited poor.
There were, however, two classes besides, who
did not seem to dovetail into the general order of
things. The fatuous, or "feels," as they were
generally called, but not imbeciles like Patrick
Mitchell, had no special place in our elemosynary
system, and led a somewhat peculiar life, wander-
ing from place to place in search of their daily
braid.
There was little to blame here, as generally this
class was not by any means dangerous, and, in some
slight respect gave, in the amusement they afforded,
118 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE.
a species of return for what they had received, while
their way of living entailed little, if indeed any,
hardship whatever.
As an example of this, there was one individual
of this class, one par excellence, who periodically
visited Sillerton, " feel Jamie Nuckel," as the folks
called him. I fear Jamie was more rogue than fool,
and stood head and shoulders, in cunning and per-
haps intellect of some kind, over his wandering con-
freres. Jamie had a most retentive memory, and
was accustomed to repeat, almost verbatim, sermons
that he had once heard. This faculty was a source
of unbounded pleasure to the farm-servants on a
winter evening, whenever Nuckel made his appear-
ance, and the reward was just as much brose as
Jamie could get under his belt.
On one occasion, however, his prowess in brose-
consnming nearly ended in disaster. The modicum
of brose provided for him was something almost in-
credible, and Nuckel broke the record. But he also
almost broke something beside, as my father's men,
who had given the dose as a test case, had to roll
the glutton on the floor for a considerable time
before he was considered safe from an explosion
that might have proved fatal.
Jamie's cry on this occasion was very touching,
" Row me or I'll rive, boys." He was rolled most
LICENSED BEGGARS. 119
effectually. That was his last sermon and feast
there, for orders were given and these orders had
to he obeyed that the experiment was not to be
repeated, and many a time I have seen him as he
passed, turning a longing look askance at the
bothies of Fusselbare, where he had so often en-
joyed a square meal, but his borrowed eloquence
was no longer in demand in that quarter ; the meal,
butter, and boiling water were never again mixed
for him, and Fusselbare knew Nuckel no more.
It may be well to state here that Nuckel was an
exaggerated specimen of what the Poor Laws would
now place under the heading of "fatuous," and
that there were many different varieties of the
same species, ranging from the unmitigated idiot,
to individuals who wanted only "tippence of the
shilling."
It is a matter of doubt if the " crank" might not
be a connecting link, and if he might not be accu-
rately classed between the feel and the madman.
It is no matter of doubt, however, that we are now
getting on dangerous ground, and that a return to
our mutton might be advisable.
Of those who scored a few points below the
ordinary standard of full reasoning powers, one,
Sandy Forbes, carried a private mail-bag, to and
from the post-office of Sillerton. It would be dim*-
120 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE.
cult to specify precisely what Sandy wanted, and I
might be better understood if I said, " Just a little
of everything. 1 '
Both in body and mind there was a want. One
said that Sandy's fingers were " a' thoorns ; "
another asserted that he scuttled in his walk, " like
a fluke ; " and unquestionably he had a stutter in
his speech. As to his mental equipment, there was
a general haziness in every department. And yet
Sandy was a useful enough member of society. He
was good-natured, and willing to work, so far as
his capabilities went.
But it was chiefly as postman that Sandy was
employed. He not only carried the letters to and
from the post-office, which was also the village
store, but he was universally employed along the
road to bring small purchases with him on his re-
turn. These small orders amounted sometimes to
a very great number, but neither cash nor orders
embarrassed him ; he wrote nothing down, and yet
goods and cash were always right, while no order
was ever under any circumstances forgotten.
Sometimes it happened that Sandy had been sent
in another direction, and a substitute had to be sent
instead, and as usual, came orders and cash from
every farmer and cottar's wife along the roadside.
But what a reckoning was there on the return trip!
LICENSED BEGGARS. 121
Orders were entirely forgotten, or changed, or
delivered in the wrong quarter; the guidwife of
Pitfuffie found two ounces of tobacco where she ex-
pected the same quantity of tea ; Johnny Wright's
snuff turned out to be ground ginger that was
sorely missed by a dyspeptic invalid farther on the
road, who received a pound of three-inch nails in-
stead ; and in no case could the cash be brought to
an exact balance.
The only thing that did really seem to tally, was
the universal remark made with considerable bitter-
ness, but only when the spurious postman had got
at least a good hundred yards away " I wish the
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 deficient, 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
amuse many a Sillerton dinner-party therewith.
The anecdote related to a family connected with
the parish, and showed the difficulty that some-
times existed of determining the mental condition
of an individual.
122 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE.
A doubt had arisen whether the heir-at-law of a cer-
tain estate could be considered perfectly sane or not,
and this 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 of jury met to inquire into his mental
condition, and took evidence accordingly. Several
witnesses, for and against, were examined, as there
were conflicting interests involved, and at length
the defendant himself 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.
Tiring of the questioning, however, to which he
had been subjected, he slightly lost his temper, and
asked the Court to hurry up, as the cattle would
not be housed till he got home ! The remark was
fatal, and turned the scale that was inclining some-
what to his own side. The 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
LICENSED BEGGARS. 123
of his 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, yet 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 dangerous,
might become so at any moment. Of course a wild
raving maniac had to be looked to, and stone walls,
and the never-failing strait-jacket, either restored
the equilibrium of mind that seemed to have been
disturbed, or provided another unfortunate for the
funeral, where there was little sorrowing, and but
few tears.
The connecting link was certainly a very peculiar
being, quiet generally and inoffensive, 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.
124 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE.
James, or rather Jamie Muir, was a fine, strong,
well-built chiel ; able to attend to any ordinary
duties, and possessed of a garden that was the
admiration of the whole country-side. But Jamie
was literally mad on tartans. Whether he had got
the idea that he was descended from some great
Highland chief, I could never learn, 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 flat-
tering from the topmost bough. On one occasion
he slipped when leaving his loftiest perch, but as the
tree was a larch, the branches drew out, so to speak,
as Jamie's weight came upon them, and when lie
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 sneeshm' put him all right
again. Nor did the accident wean him from his
dangerous proclivities. Jamie was still to be seen
amongst the branches, like the Pigmies of Darkest
LICENSED BEGGARS. 125
Africa, and his small flags still fluttered mast-high
over his favorite trees.
His brother was, however, an entirely different
character. Dark in appearance solitary and un-
sociable in his disposition, and imbued with melan-
choly ideas with regard to most religious subjects,
Willie Muir had more than once been placed under
restraint, and had returned home, 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 made 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 ! " roared the madman, " take
126 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE.
up your Bible there ; turn up the fifth chapter of
Mark, and read it before me, rouii' the village
square ; and if ye miss ae word or letter, aff gaes
yer head, like u carl doddie ! " 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 firm grip upon the collar
of the jacket, Muir speedily put Graham in march-
ing order at the door of the school.
But before the Scripture reading began, there was
a preparation on the part of the madman that
utterly terrorized the whole community. Muir
deliberately drew from his pocket a razor, evidently
prepared for the occasion, and brandishing this
several times before 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 BEGGARS. 127
fiends were behind him. Luckily, quiet, gentle For-
dyce was in his garden, and though 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 brandished 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
128 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE.
developed into the griin finisher of the law ; while
many a blanched face peeped out cautiously from
the windows as the procession moved along, dread-
ing at every instant lest the final tragedy might
come.
On still went Graham 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 the 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 sorely -
tried but successful scripture-reader at once took iu
the situation, and quietly placing a few yards be-
tween himself and the trio, suddenly put on a spurt
that has probably seldom been beaten.
There was no meeting again that day in the par-
ish school of Sillerton, The dominie was consider-
LHJEXSED BEGGARS. 1H9
ably demoralized, and the scholars had witnessed a
scene that might have well driven Latin, and English
grammar, and everything else completely out of
their heads for even longer time than an afternoon.
At all events, neither teacher nor taught entered
again that day the school, and it was a long time
before it ceased to be remembered what the occasion
was that gave a half-holiday to the children of
Sillerton.
Mad Willie Muir had to be put 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 bears among the " Rockies " 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.
130 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE.
CHAPTER XV.
CONVIVIALITIES OF SILLERTON.
Wi' merry sangs an' friendly cracks,
I wat they didna weary ;
An' unco tales an' f unnie 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, 1 ' and \ve 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 unfrequenfely affect the
company of the gay ; learned Lords of Session have,
in more than one instance, taken to themselves wives
whose chief education consisted in the ability to
roast a joint or broil a beefsteak; while how often
have we seen a veritable giant of six feet and a few
CONVIVIALITIES OF SILLERTON. 131
inches over, striding along with a wife hanging on
his arm who might have passed for a first cousin of
one of Gulliver's Liliputians !
Probably 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
breet."
Well, from the grave things discussed in last
chapter we would now take a glance at those 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 than that supplied by the
author of " Tullochgorum," but alas! few Scotch-
men now would get through a verse 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 :
" Like bumbees bizzing frae a byke,
When herds their riggins tirr,
The swankies lap thro' mire and syke,
Wow as their heads did birr !
132 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE.
" They youff'd the ba' frae dyke to dyke
Wi unco speed and virr ;
Some baith their shou'ders up did fyke,
For blythness some did flirr
Their teeth that day."
Then we had our Halloween, not perhaps with
all the different ingredients that Burns with artistic
hand has thrown into his wonderful poem, but yet
we had many of these, as well as those grand bon-
fires, that in our young days lighted up every 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 cannot say.
Then 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 bull 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
CONVIVIALITIES OF SILLERTON. 133
differences were forgotten, at least until next morn-
ing'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, per-
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 the 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 required as fine an edge as his tongue pos-
sessed before 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
could reproduce the very words and gestures that
g-ive such reality to the story !
The scene was laid in Scotland, where a knowl-
edge of the 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-
134 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE.
ing were held throughout every parish at stated
times by 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 SILLERTON. 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 wiuna
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 Siller ton 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 the time, which
must have been a happy relief to the newly-married
couple, who, in those primitive days and places, did
not start immediately after the " dejeuner a la
fourchette," to spend their honeymoon amongst
136 SCOTTISH FOLK-LOBE.
strangers, 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 chiefly 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 gloves, and wondering
what was their duty to do next; and 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 ceremony.
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 the 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 SILLEKTON. 137
scene of the even ing's performance if indeed three
or four o'clock in the morning could be so designated
when the bride's stocking was thrown among
the revellers, and happy was the lad or lass that
had the good fortune to catch it ! Their turn
undoubtedly came next.
Yet, all the marriage festivities were comprised
within two rounds of the clock in Sillerton, though
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
his 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." T 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 Spey, and I
was induced to accompany him to the home of his
138 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE.
bride. It was a long and weary road from a few
miles south of Bennachie till Craigellacbie and the
Haughs of Cromdale 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
CONVIVIALITIES OF SILLERTON. 139
our own mothers had rocked us to sleep. Soon too
soon fur us the morning dawned dawned, I mean,
when the shutters were removed and the sun's
rays proved that Old Sol had beaten us by at least
a couple of hours.
"A perfect feu de joie was being fired within an
easy distance of our windows ; about us 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 had a most exciting search
after my Lowland garments, having evidently donned
140 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE.
the garb of old Gaul at a very early stage of the 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 neighborhood of the classic Spey. At all
events I never attended another wedding within a
day's march of Rothiemurchus ; 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 SILLERTON. 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 nup-
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 love
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
112 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE.
days, and where nothing was wanting, in the way
of either solids or liquids, to make every one as happy
and contented as mortals may be. Of course,
amongst many other 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
the 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 small thistle circled rapidly round the table,
and that after the walnuts 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 had
given him not anything very serious or dangerous,
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
CONVIVIALITIES OF SILLERTON. 143
never indulged in cheese without proving martyrs
to their indiscretion the following day.
One thing struck me as very peculiar, namely,
that none for a moment suspected that the very 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 them, the fish, 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 the peat-reek
had anything to do with my friend'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, the first vision of
the morning was the head-keeper with some genu-
ine mountain dew to " wash 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
144 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE.
thing at night was the liquid and aronmtic night-
cap unfailing herald of that sweet and vuilnokrn
slumber, that in those days, or perhaps nights we
should say, we never missed. Ah! well may we
say with the old Roman Burns
Tempora mutantur, et nos mutamur in illis.
OTHER blLLEULOJS AMUSEMENTS. 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 othei*s, 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 fain revisit Siller-
ton. But what records, after all, could I look into,
except those of the kirk-session, and I scarcely think
that I would find there anything 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 ; I might learn, if
I did not know before, how the kirk-session dealt
with transgressors, who certainly in those days
"found their 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
146 SCOTTISH FOLK-LOllE.
ance, sometimes for many consecutive Sundays, and
receive the 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 Him
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
her sin. At length a voice says " lie that is with
out (this) sin, let him cast the first stone at her."
The shaft has struck home, and one by one her
accusers silently steal away. When the Saviour
OTHER SILLERTON AMUSEMENTS. 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 still.
Well, 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 neighboring parishes as well. There was, how-
ever, an object in the great annual Fair. Farmers
gathered from all quarters to buy and sell ; servants
were engaged for the coming half-year and received
the "arles" that were as binding nearly as the
Queen's shilling. Jockey was able to buy ribbons
148 SCOTTISH FOLK-LOBE.
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 to
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 JEneas attempted
to grasp in Hades, and who eluded him like a flit-
ting dream, so appear now these shadowy Gar-
deners to me. As Wordsworth has it in his
" Laodamia " :
" Forth sprang the impassioned Quoen her Lord to clasp ;
Again that consummation she essay'd ;
But unsubstantial form eludes her grasp
As often as that eager grasp was made."
OTHER SILLERTON AMUSEMENTS. 149
And yet all is not mere shadow, and some figures
rise above the ordinary level, like hilltops over a
fog-covered landscape. The origin, however, 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 likely enough that 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 all ready the
150 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE.
evening before, and made their appearance only
when the 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 Oldmeldrum weavers had been engaged 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 susceptible
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 !
The short, the tall ; fat folk and spare ;
Syde coats, and dockit,
Wigs, queues, and clubs, and curly hair ;
Round hats, and cockit t
OTHER SILLERTON AMUSEMENTS. 151
Wi' that the dinlin drums rebound,
Fifes, clarionets, and hautboys sound !
Through crowds on crowds, collected round,
The Corporations
Trudge off, while Echo's self is drowned
In acclamations !
Whether there was a special costume besides the
aprons that the members wore, and on which a nude
Adam and Eve, the Serpent, and an apple-tree in
full bearing, were all depicted in the most cunning
sampler 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 I might trace the
rudely-carved lines that tell where the farmer of
1 2 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE.
Sourfauld was gathered to his fathers, and not inap-
propriately repeat the line
" Some mute, inglorious Milton here 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 somewhat patched
tenant of Sourfauld in the towering Goliath who
directs the movements of the Gardeners ?
The bearskin cap of a Life-Guardsman would have
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-
nomically buried in his capacious headgear?
A bright scarlet coat, somewhat resembling what
our fighting forefathers wore about a half-century
OTHER SILLERTOS AML'XKMEX'IS. 153
before, covered the greater part of the elongated form
of the coiumander-in-chief, and partly concealed a
pair of gigantic boots that resembled very much
those worn by swashbucklers in the time of Crom-
well, while a remarkably long sword completed 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. Could it have been
found near Wallace Xeuk in the brave toon o 1 Bon-
Accord ?
Might some local antiquary have lent it for the
occasion, or did the village blacksmith, in a moment
of high warlike spirit, design and fashion the ter-
rible wejipon that, like tlie helmet of Navarre,
blazed as a guiding star in front of the Gardeners,
who now, to the clang of martial music, tramped
around the village square, and four deep, marched
straight through the shady walks of 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 through 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 is a sin
Fur luo tu sit and grin
154 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE.
At him here ;
But the old three-cornered hat,
And the breeches, and all that,
Are so queer ! "
On 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 cheers were given, and to the inspiring music of
the brass band, whose whistles had now been duly
moistened, the 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 beginning.
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
Gamut Arms. This may or may not be the case,
but I certainly knew one individual who joined the
society for this special object, 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,
OTHER SILLERTON AMUSEMENTS. 155
got somewhat befuddled, and on the occasion of the
Gardeners' dinner got gloriously foil.
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 to en joy
the coveted luxuries of the annual dinner.
And what a dinner was there ! The season for
haggis had not yet come, but haggis was quite a
common dish in the locality, and did not exercise
that influence upon the salivary 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 before
a Queen; fish, fowl, and all the et-ceteras that in
those 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."
But 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,
156 SCOTTISH FOLK-LOBE.
certain courses, but a dish of mashed turnips,
heavily sweetened with sugar, and replenished again
and again, was all that Protty was permitted to
enjoy, Protty being too obfuscated by repeated liba-
tions to see the trick that was being played upon
him.
Such was one of the standing, practical, and peren-
nial jokes that were relished in those days, 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 remem-
ber well the stalwart frame and honest, homely
speech of the leader of the Ancient Gardeners
Sourie 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 " Protty ! Protty ! Sandy Mackie " ?
THE IVAUS OF THE ROSES. 157
CHAPTER XVII.
THE WARS OF THE ROSES.
" Spare your comparisons," replied
An angry Rose, who grew beside ;
" Of all mankind you should not flout us ;
What can a poet do without us ?
In every love-song roses bloom ;
We lend you color and perfume."
JOHN GAY.
FEAR not, gentle reader ; the humble historian of
Sillerton's quiet ways has no intention of appro-
priating the pen of a Macaulay or a Napier, and
whisking you off to the great battlefields of Ilindos-
tan or of Merrie England.
A theme more becoming an Aberdeenshire chron-
icler, were he martially inclined, might be found
nearer home, and doubtless he would find a suitable
subject for his talent in the "sair field o' liar-
law "
" When Donald came branking down the brae
Wi' twenty thousand men."
Our " Wars of the Roses " were simply the
friendly competitions that took place at the annual
meeting of the Gardeners of Sillerton, between our
158 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE.
rival horticulturists, and where the rose, par excel-
lence, played a very prominent part. Indeed, before
dismissing the 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 of arranging
them in beautiful forms and combinations 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 aiford.
And thus there was a double stimulant supplied.
Secretly each competitor formed his plans and
carried them out. No 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
uninteresting, would, on the great marshalling day
of the Gardeners, stand in the Sillerton Square
arrayed in all the beauty that a rainbow robe of
exquisite flowers would lend.
THE WARS OF THE HOSES. 159
Truly Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed
like one of these. The interest also was 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 him we
were pledged to aid and abet to the best of our
ability. I fancy I hear one saying " But in what
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 could
be called complete yet its flowery robes and adorn-
ments must needs be all added on the morning of
the parade. And thus we became jackals to the
lion. We arranged beforehand with non-competi-
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 provided me with my floral
tribute was known in the parish by the name of
General Hay. Let me now introduce the old man.
Upwards of six feet in height, at least fourscore
years of age, yet unbent by time or infirmity, the
General has anticipated our errand, and is already
in his garden awaiting our arrival. He greets us
kindly, and smiles as he marks the number of
100 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE.
baskets we carry, for I hud secured a partner in the
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 compliment,
and had he been possessed of the Oriental " Gardens
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 his 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 my first visits
to Aberdeen. The amount of cloth around the indi-
vidual's neck induced me to ask his name, and my
companion informed me that the wags had named
him the " British Linen Company."
But I seem to have forgotten the head-piece, and
THE WARS OF THE ROSES. 161
left that to be last described which generally should
claim first notice. " Cap-a-pied " with me seems to
have been reversed, but I shall take the reader inio
my confidence and tell why I adopted that course.
It may be possible that I was thinking of Robert
Browning's Christmas Eve, and that personally I
might be a twin brother, at least in spirit, of that
Artist of another ambition,
Who, having a block to carve, no bigger,
Has spent his power on the opposite quest,
And believed to begin at the feet was best,
For so may I see, ere I die. the whole figure ! "
The fact was, however, that, like the small boy, I
kept the sweetest morsel on the side of my plate for
the last mouthful. Thebon bouche was an excellent
close to the feast. It was not exactly the Glengarry
cap that attracted my attention, for the General in
this respect resembled Rob Rorison
It wasna the bonnet, but the head that was in it,
Made every one speak o' Rob Rorison's bonnet.
And so with General Hay not the bonnet, but
the head itself, attracted the attention. The last
" queue " that was worn in Sillerton hung from that
head. I had often seen the " queue " in pictures
that represented a generation that had almost passed
away, but on the living subject, with this one excep-
tion, never.
Ji
162 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE.
Why General Hay clung to this relic of a past ag6
when all his contemporaries went " shaven and
shorn," it were hard to say, and supplied a problem
to the young antiquaries of the village that was
never solved. But there it was, and in the church on
Sunday, where its owner was always in his place, it
attracted more attention, I fear, from the younger
members of the congregation than the somewhat dry
yet classic utterances of the staid and stately Robert
Fordyce.
It was as well a matter of no small curiosity to
me to know how Hay had received his " soubriquet "
of General, and it at least proves the prevalence of
that vein of fun and humor that existed in Sillerton,
and which, so often, as we have seen, came to the
surface. All the small boys associated old Hay with
scenes of carnage and blood, and no doubt believed
that he had played no unimportant part in the mili-
tary history of the country. Personally, I was re-
luctantly undeceived, and learned from an old ser-
geant of artillery, whom I often visited to hear his
account of battles in the Peninsula, in which he had
taken a part, that the old man had never seen nor
heard a shot fired in anger.
When the Scottish youth enrolled themselves
members of the Militia that prepared to meet any
threatened invasion, Hay found himself a full private
II1E \VAliS OF THE ROSES. 163
in a company of which the junior lieutenant owned
the same name as himself. To what particular
branch of the family Lieutenant Hay belonged it
would be difficult now to say, as the Hays were
decidedly a fighting family ; many of them rose to
distinction in the army, and if Generals there were
among them and undoubtedly there were will not
their names and deeds be all duly recorded in the
military annals of Aberdeenshire ?
When the rumors of war and the smoke of battle
cleared away, Private Hay converted his spear into
a pruning-hook, and condescended to cultivate cab-
bages and roses in a quiet and cosy neuk not far
from the gate of Paradise.
The warlike Lieutenant decided otherwise;
buckled on his sword the more tightly, and went
to fight his country's battles wherever and whenever
fighting was required. Step by step Hay rose in
rank in his profession of arms, until one day the
news reached Sillerton that the whilom Lieutenant
was now General Hay. For some reason or other,
now unknown, and queer though the idea may seem,
yet the good folks of Sillerton insisted, in an over-
flowing fit of fun and frolic, on raising their own
peaceful Hay to the same rank with his more warlike
namesake. In fact lie became, in one sense, the
military hero's "Double-ganger." The soi-disant
164 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE.
Lieutenant Hay of Sillerton became eventually, after
passing through all the intermediate gradations of
rank, General Hay, and General Hay he remained to
the end.
He never resented the courtesy that gave him
rank, and responded to his title as naturally as if
he had won it on the field of battle. lie was a
kindly old man, and ever sent us small boys
away infinitely pleased with our reception, and
loaded with the beautiful treasures of his gar-
den.
May his ashes rest in peace ! His memory to me
is still as fragrant and fresh as the sweet-scented
roses that he once grew.
The Sillerton ians, though brimful of fun, yet in-
variably left it behind them when they visited the
resting-places of the dead, and yet, incongruous as
it may seem, I often wonder if they carved the name
" General " on his tombstone in the churchyard of
Sillerton.
Having begun this chapter with unmeasured eu
logics of the rose, I fear that the un warlike Genenil
Hay led me away from my first love, and that the
peculiar circumstances that gave him his tinsel rank,
and the charms of a peaceful life, that made him
supremely happy amongst his flowers, made me al-
most forget the prominent part that the rose, whether
THE WARS OF THE HOSES. 165
^ed or white, or damask, played in the Gardeners'
ompetition in Sillerton.
I shall at once acknowledge the guilt, and make
the only reparation in my power, by closing this
portion of my reminiscences in the following, though
very slightly altered, lines of the immortal Keats :
I saw the sweetest flower wild nature yields
A fresh-blown musk rose ; 'twas the first that threw
Its sweets upon the summer ; graceful it grew
As is the wand that Queen Titania wields.
And as I feasted on its fragrancy
I thought the garden- rose it far excell'd ;
But when, oh, Hay ! thy roses came to me,
My sense with their deliciousness was spell'd :
Soft voices had they, that with tender plea,
Whisper'd of peace, and truth, and friendliness
unquell'd.
166 SCOTTISH FOLK-LOBE.
CHAPTER XVIII.
PRACTICAL JOKERS AT WOKK.
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from
off my door.
Quoth the raven, " Nevermore."
POE.
WHILE not going quite so far as the Aberdoniau
who is reported by Max O'llell as saying, " Tak
awa Aberdeen and a few miles roun' aboot it, and
whar are ye ? " I yet cannot forget that in the shire,
at least, of Aberdeen there was a vast amount of
that species of wit in my boyhood days that found
a ready outlet in practical jokes, as I have had oc-
casion frequently to note in this picture of Sillerton
life that I have been attempting not to paint but to
reproduce.
Protty Sandy Mackie was not the only victim that
was bagged by the Sillerton jokers, but I shall con-
trive to give one or two instances that came under
my personal observation, and which I shall attempt
as well to narrate within reasonable limits.
That the village store, or shop as it was then
PRACTICAL JOKERS AT WORE. 167
called, should be a common rendezvous on a Satur-
day evening goes without saying, and there, accord-
ingly, both buyers and sellers convened ; stories
were there told, and there practical jokes were
sometimes perpetrated that, as we shall see, occa-
sionally left indelible marks behind them.
The shopkeeper, or merchant, as he was designated
in those days, was a man of considerable energy
in his calling, and did not confine his attention al-
together to the ordinary style of doing business.
In fact, the merchant came of an enterprising family,
and showed it in more than one way, as his trans-
actions proved. One Saturday evening, when the
store was pretty full of customers served and to
be served Mr. Baggs informed them that he had
made a fortunate venture in the way of foot-gear, and
in consequence was prepared to sell boots at a price
that would strike dumb the souters of Sillerton.
The goods were there and then produced, and so
well did they look, that sales to a considerable ex-
tent were at once effected.
A near relative of mine was there, but he had
made no purchases. Being asked if he would not
invest in a pair of boots, he stated that he would
rather deal in a different way. He said in fact, that
he would much prefer to take his boots by the year,
or, in other words, that Mr. Baggs should take a
168 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE.
twelve months' contract, and keep him in foot-gear
during that time for a certain amount, the said
amount to be then and there agreed on between
them.
This proposition being somewhat novel, was re-
ceived with great applause by the crowd generally,
and was at once favorably entertained by the mer-
chant, whose heart was considerably opened by the
number of sales he had effected that evening and
the profits realized.
The sum was, after a little haggling, settled; the
terms were agreed to, and a note was at once drawn
up defining the terms of the agreement, signed and
duly witnessed. I remember quite well one or two
of the conditions. One was that a boot might, if it
required such repairs, be only twice soled and, after
the second soling to become the property of the
wearer. Another was that no patch whatever was
to be placed on the uppers, but that, Avhen such an
operation became necessary, the dilapidated boots
were to be returned to the merchant and replaced
by a new pair.
There was much merriment over the novel con-
tract, but as the price to be paid seemed large for
a twelvemonths' wear of boots, the laugh was clearly
on the merchant's side. How the laugh turned to
another quarter we shall presently see.
PRACTICAL JOKERS AT WORK. 109
My friend was employed in the Garioch district
at a considerable distance from Sillerton ; he returned
home every Saturday evening, and I usually went
with my pony to meet him the greater part of the
way, when we contrived to get home by the well-
known process of " Ride and Tie. " I now, however,
got instructions to no longer make my usual Saturday
trip, as my friend intended walking until his boot
contract was finished.
The first Saturday night came, and with it came
Dick, as I may call my relative, who, after supper,
speedily found his way to the village store to have
his boots examined. They were pronounced sea-
worthy by the referee, but there were deep traces
of tear and wear that went to Mr. Baggs' heart. It
was evident that another trip beyond Bennachie
and back, with nearly a week's work thrown in,
would change considerably the rating of Dick's boots.
The "A 1." would certainly go down the scale.
Another Saturday night came, and Dick and his
boots came also. The weather had been bad ; the
distance to be traversed was long ; the roads were
execrable, and the fears of the shopkeeper were fully
realized, for two new soles had to be ordered from the
village cobbler, while Dick marched off in triumph
with his feet snugly encased in another pair of Mr.
Baggs' boots.
170 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE.
It is needless to say that this process went on much
in the same way till the end of the twelve months.
The story meantime had got wind, and every young
ster who could find an excuse for purchasing the
smallest 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 boots.
Everybody enjoyed the chagrin of poor Baggs,
who was the butt of the parish 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 Baggs 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 wropg 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,
PRACTICAL JOKERS AT WORK. 171
and Saturday afternoons now found him no longer
enjoying his ease in his cosy stall, but on a return
trip from the back of Bennachie, and alternately
carrying on his back his light-weight master, and a
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-backets :
Before the Flood."
172 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE.
CHAPTER XIX.
THE WINNING LEG.
Ae market night
Tarn had got planted unco right ;
Fast by an ingle bleezin' finely,
"WT reaming swats that drank divinely,
Tarn o' Shanter.
HAD I the intention of being mysterious, I could
scarcely have adopted a better heading to this
chapter than I have 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
TllE WINNING LEG. 173
a Sillertonian as much 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 " waiT 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 seen trotting along quietly arid
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 memory, who
lived for years in Edinburgh, where there were lit-
erary giants in those days, and who yet gravely
174 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE.
asserted that it would require a surgical operation
to get a joke into a Scotchman's head, was a close
observer of human nature, as we may judge by the
above assertion, and carried his observations also
into that of the equine family.
Sydney was well aware of this propensity of the
horse to hasten towards his own oat-bin, and so or-
dered it that, in the case of a horse he possessed, the
oat-bin should be ever before him. " Calamity " had
defied all efforts of whip or spur to accelerate his
movements, and Smith at last hit upon the happy
expedient of fastening a small vessel containing a
feed of oats upon the end of an elongated shaft.
This worked as a veritable charm, and the witty
parson was borne along at a rattling speed, while
the very sight of the golden grain before his eyes
stimulated the craving steed to redouble his efforts
to overtake every moment what he eventually
reached only when he got home.
It may be at the same time quite possible that
what added to Tarn o' Shanter's courage, may have
helped the Sillerton farmers to shorten, at least by
time, the trip homewards from the Invernrie monthly
market. In fact, it was pretty widely known that
farmers generally returned home from these markets
pretty well corned, as the saying was.
Nor was it looked upon as iu any way strange
THE WINNING LEG. 175
that such should be. Opinion, indeed, leant exactly
in the other way. I once heard a very peculiar
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. His
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-
176 SCOTTISH FOLK-LOBE.
what difficult to leave the table just at the end of
the first tumbler. Stories, too, did not always quite
fit the emptying of the glasses, and the equalizing
of the two things often cost time and money both,
when an " eke " had to be taken to get ends to meet.
One evening matters were precisely in this stale,
and a Sillerton farmer, to twit mine host of the
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
THE WINNING LEG. 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 landlord, 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, " Tarn, 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.
12
178 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE.
As we rode homeward I could not help wonder-
ing how it was possible that so small a man should
have so large a leg, and, sidling up to the winner of
the bet, 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 hae 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. But the joke did not
end here exactly. It oozed out over the whole
countryside, for Ledingham was 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 neighborhood of Inverurie.
THE MINISTER'S CHRISTMAS DINNER. 179
CHAPTER XX.
THE MINISTER'S 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 Sillerton,
was a douce, sober man in every way the last man
in the world to poke fun at anybody, and the very
last, certainly, who should have been the victim of
a practical joke. The festive season was now ap-
proaching, and his reverence had been duly invited
to eat his sixtieth Christmas dinner at the hospi-
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 the Reverend
Robert had forwarded his acceptance, and had every
intention of honoring the entertainment with his
presence.
The guidwife of Milton soared somewhat above
the ordinary run of farmers' wives. She had seen
180 SCOTTISH 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 story could scarcely have been told, without
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 boyhood 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 the bounds
of the Presbytery, until he now found himself gen-
eral manager for Mr. Fordyce of Sillerton, delving
in 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 invitation to dinner,
THE MINISTER'S CHRISTMAS DINNER. 181
driving him in the old gig that had now for more
than a quarter of a century been the admiration of
the 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 narrative feels keenly, but
yet the truth, the sober truth, must be told. John
Sprot was, in fact, a . No, I don't exactly
mean that, but while John was a strong advocate of
temperance, yet the flesh was sometimes weak, and
so it happened that, on a few occasions, John had
been what Scotch folks kindly call " overtaken."
The consequence of this was that when his rev-
erence then weighed his man in the scales of
sobriety, and found him wanting, pastures 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 meiuber was crooked.
182 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE.
A whole year, last Martinmas, had come and gone,
and John Sprot was still the minister's man of Sil-
lerton. If temptation had come, it had evidently
also been successfully 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 Sillerton. 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
Milton, 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 lie lighted
his pipe, and began to feel the influence of the subtle
narcotic, he felt supremely happy, and it is at least
THE MINISTERS CHRISTMAS DIN N Eli. 183
doubtful, had the change been possible, if at that
moment he would 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
John, that Marshal Graham, now manager of the
Sillerton distillery, requested to see him 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 away he
went to deliver the somewhat hostile note. Having
read the threatening message, Power pretended to get
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 he
could have directed the manoeuvres of an ironclad.
Back and forth went Sprot ; letter after letter was
written by the two belligerents, horn followed horn
with the now decidedly obfuscated minister's man,
until Milton's Christinas dinner had passed from his
memory like a flitting dream. The barley bree that
makes some men pugnacious, only softened the
tenderest sensibilities of John's heart.
He fancied that he was engaged in the noble work
of pouring oil on troubled waters; without his 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 too successful,
and the apostle of peace fell before the syren bland-
THE MINISTERS CHRISTMAS DINNER. 185
ishments of Sillerton's ripest mellowest purest
mountain dew.
But where was the Reverend Robert Fordyce all
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 when 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 were 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 Christmas dinner. And so he bestirs
himself anew. The decent broadcloth becomes his
rounded figure well ; the shirt front, heavily ruded,
looks like the driven snow; a chain, resplendent with
keys and seals, passes to and forth across his breast ;
180 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE.
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
Ch ristmas dinner.
But where was John Sprot now ? Where the ren-
ovated gig ? Where the rejuvenated gray ? The
minister peers curiously towards the manse stahles.
lie sees something approaching, but not precisely
what he expected. The horse and gig were 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 the tail, and two callants, who had
evidently been engaged for the occasion, were trying
as best they could, to enable the driver to preserve
his equilibrium, and to direct at the same time the
movements of the astonished gray towards the
manse door.
One glance 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
filled 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.
How 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. I 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 merry wags were
inclined to own that they had carried the joke a
little too far ; and in after-years, when the Reverend
Robert Fordyce dispensed, on special and favored
occasions, the blessings that covered his own table,
lie sometimes condescended to tell the story, with a
slightly sad and pensive smile, how it happened that
he missed his Milton 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
188 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE.
that were cracked on the occasion, and the excruci-
ating quizzing to which John was subjected, could
scarcely be borne by the victim with genuine
equanimity.
The 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, recounting 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 slightly
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 thus able
to supply the three verses, which, perhaps, 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 CHRISTMAS DINNER. 189
old, only eliminating a few words that were 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, lall, derattle, tall,
Fall, lall, deday !
Gin ye except the crookit leg,
He's soun' in limb an' lith,
Wi' his fall, lall, derattle, tall,
Fall, lall, deday !
As Johnny Sprot gaed o'er the burn,
He train pit on a snail,
Wi' his fall, lall, derattle, tall,
Fall, lall, deday !
Then up got Johnny's crookit leg,
An' in the burn lie fell,
Wi' his fall, latl, derattle tall,
Fall, lall, deday !
The minister cam' stappin, oot,
Says, " John, far are ye, man ?
Wi' yer fall, lall, 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 ! "
190 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.
The Israelites in Egypt.
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 friendly
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 trouble in this world whatever."
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," quotli
Jamie, and was passing on. " Bide a \vee," says the
SILLERTON' S BURDENS. 191
other ; " is there naething ava, Jamie, that bothers
ye ? " " Weel," replies the " feel," " John Tarason's
bubbly jock leads me sometimes a sair time o't fin
I'm 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 the farmers of the
parish. It was true that the villagers had found no
royal road to affluence, nor did they expect to find
it. They earned little, but their wants were in pro-
portion to their means, and many of them, no doubt,
felt like a celebrated New 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 that 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, where ignorance was bliss 'twere folly
to be wise, and they were ignorant at 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
192 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE.
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 have 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 Haddo 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 the
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' 8 BURDENS. 19 j
which were the natural consequences of that iniqui-
tous system of "rack- rent" that, alas! was so
prevalent.
In Sillerton, successful farming was difficult of
realization. Rents were confessedly high perhaps
a little too high but the so-called Game Laws were
the veritable " bubbly- jock " of the parish. No
farmer on the estate, or in the parish, which 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 no, 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 these, and woe to him who failed to fulfil
his duty in this respect.
Were I imbued with the genius of a Mark Twain
or an Artemus Ward I might pause 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 codicils 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 even the lower
animals that never ceased, night or day, to eat them
out, root, stock, and branch,
'3
194 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE.
Personal tastes 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 firing 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 salar, 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 had 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'"
probably 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
SILLERTON'S BURDENS. 195
drawing them together, below the bank, we felt
gently for trout, until our fingers creeping head-
wards, reached the gills. This point reached, they
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 considerable value afterwards
to the boys who enjoyed it. We manufactured our
own rods; we constructed our own reels "pirns"
we called them then ; we wove our own hair lines ;
and with a peculiar knot, deftly tied, we made our
own casting lines. Nay, more, we prepared our own
flies.
To the skill we acquired in doing these things I
have often been indebted when some dire mishap
broke in pieces our " tackle " on some lone Canadian
lake, where many miles of weary portage-road sepa-
rated us from skilled labor, or when the coquettish
trout refused to be lured by a fly that had changed
from bright scarlet to deep blue, until the exasper-
ated angler began to assume the color of his own
spurious fly.
On such occasions an hour of work handicraft, I
should say learned on the banks of the Clyon-dam,
made rods, reels, or lines as good as new, while a few
tufts of the feathers of the scarlet Ibis, replacing
the dismal blues, soon changed the aspect of affairs ;
196 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE.
the fisher's sun of Austerlitz shone out once more ;
the sweet music of the reels began to ring again in
our ears, and the speckled beauties of lake or stream
quickly exchanged their native element for the shady
corner that had been prepared for them in our birch-
bark canoes.
It may not be out of place also to own, that while
neither the village nor the parish sportsmen were
invited to join the battue which, at the proper
season, was held on our hills, and amongst our tree-
covered and bushy "heughs and hows," yet the
youths of the village had a way of obtaining sport,
without any invitation whatever.
When we wanted a white or black rabbit and
such were occasionally seen in the warrens we
seldom failed to find what we wanted ; and with a
couple of boys on each side of a "dry-stane dyke,"
with eyes as keen as a pointer's nose, we generally
succeeded in carrying home a few trophies of the
chase. We conducted our operations in rabbit-
hunting, however, on the still principle ; we co-
operated together, not by words, but by signs, and
we never reached our homes until our distended
jackets would no longer, in the growing darkness,
be likely to attract attention, while the few stones
that we had displaced in securing onr game were
more likely to be charged to the ruthless hand of
SILLERTON' $ BURDENS. 197
time, than to any action that might be deemed an
infraction of the Game Laws.
Some owners of game lands were not so conserv-
ative as he of Sillerton, and occasionally gave their
tenantry, or at least a number of them, an oppor-
tunity of trying their skill with the hares, rabbits,
and moor-fowl. This was considered a great com-
pliment, and was heartily enjoyed by the partici-
pants in the sport.
I am compelled to own, also, that I have known
invitations issued, I do not mean in Sillerton, not
exactly to afford the tenantry a day's pleasant out-
ing, but to give the gamekeepers an opportunity of
marking individuals who, through skill in using the
gun, and other " wrinkles " that indicate the sports-
man, might be considered dangerous to game pre-
serves, and who, in consequence, might be judiciously
shadowed. For the correctness of this statement,
I shall relate a short anecdote in illustration.
One autumn I was spending a few holidays with
a well-to-do farmer, not far from the Vale of Alford.
There was a prearranged meeting of the Chess Club
of the district on hand, and we played chess for
iibout three days; I might be nearer the truth by
saying three days and nights. At last I struck work
at the chess board, and told my host that there was
no more chess for me for the next week. I said
198 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE.
this, I believe, as if I meant it. " Weel," said my
accommodating friend, " try the gun insteed. I hae
the richt frae the laird to sheet ower the haill fairm."
I looked surprised that he should have the privilege
of shooting over his farm, which, along with a hun-
dred acres or so of good arable land, included with-
in its boundary-line a very large expanse of hill land,
where he fed a few hundred sheep.
My expressed surprise was satisfied with the fol-
lowing explanation, which I shall repeat in his own
words, if possible : " Ye see, oor laird disna aften
tribble his estates wi' his presence, bit, aboot twa
years sinsyne, he cam' doon frae Lunnun, an' efter
an ook's leesure, he sen's oot invitashuns to ilk
ane o' his tenants for a day's sheetin'. My neebor
Whitie an' mysell gat invitashuns like the lave, bit
we jaloosed tliat there wis something in the thing
that we didna jist clearly unerstan', and sae we
keepit at hame. Weel, the upshot wis that the
keepers, cannie cbiels, pat their keel on a' the loons
that were gey skeelie wi' the gun, while Whitie an'
I gat permits to sheet whenever we liked."
I need scarcely say that I gladly availed myself
of Newkeig's " permit," and, in consequence, made
a few good bags along the heathery sides of the great
Grampian range.
The jealous care exercised by the Laird of Siller-
BURDENS. 199
ton over the preservation of his game, and the un-
limited means at his disposal of increasing their
numbers indefinitely, could end only in one result.
That which happened in Australia in later years
with imported rabbits, which multiplied to such an
extent as to jeopardize the crops of those portions of
the Colony where they had been placed, happened
long before in Sillerton.
The red deer could occasionally be seen browsing
amongst the grain and turnips ; the beautiful and
fleet roe might, every hour of the day, gladden the
heart of a Landseer had he decided to extend his
professional rambles to the parish of Sillerton ; and
hares and rabbits, moor-fowl and black-cock fed,
and sported, and crowed as if the better part of the
parish were their own. And so it was.
Forty or fifty hares were often to be seen at one
time, and on one turnip-field; the grouse came in
clouds to claim their share of the harvest ; the deer
were almost as tame as sheep, as they browsed on
the richest pastures of the farm ; and, to crown all,
flocks of pheasants, housed, tended, and fed and
pampered with assiduous care, often left a field of
grain almost as worthless as if a hurricane had
swept over it. And he who, by every right under
heaven, owned those pastures, who sowed them, and
who should have reaped those fields, would have as
200 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE.
soon thought of joining a Guy Fawkes in a new
Gunpowder Plot, as of firing off a blunderbuss,
or even a pengun, to drive the voracious harpies
away.
It is true that the Laird and his friends made, at
the proper season of tli-e year, heavy bags on the
fields and moors; it is true that a few bucks occa-
sionally bit the dust before the unerring tube ; it is
true that as many as thirty thousand rabbits had
been trapped or shot in the parish during one year,
and yet there was no appreciable relief to the poor
game-eaten farmer.
One tenant alone, a gentleman bo.ru and bred,
resisted the good Laird, and attempted to protect
his crops from the ravages of the rabbits. Alas ! in
vain. His farm was intersected by belts of wood-
land, amongst which to enter, to follow up his de-
stroyert*, would be counted a trespass and punish-
able by a fine ; detectives were placed to mark if the
obnoxious tenant overstepped the limits of his own
farm, and, after a time, a conviction of hopelessness
came over him, and his futile attempts at self-pres-
ervation ceased.
His lease came, a year or two after, to a close, and
the farm was no longer for him ; the gentleman
farmer did not thrive under the Upas shadow of the.
Laird of Sillerton ; a fitter and more plastic ten*
SILLERTON S BURDENS. 201
ant was found in a mannie that wore a Kiltnarnock
bonnet on Sunday, and who, it was understood, had
made affidavit that he had never fired a gun in his
life.
In consequence of damage received, and for which
no compensation could be recovered, leases were
often abandoned, but then only after the wolf was
at the door, and few left Sillerton of their own ac-
cord, without having met with losses through the
abuse of the Game Laws losses that had crippled
their finances for years, aye, sometimes for life.
Things, I believe, have changed, even in Sillerton.
The gentlest creature that God has created, when
driven to bay, will at least put forth an effort in
self-defence, and downtrodden, long-suffering Siller-
ton awoke at length from slumbers that had con-
tinued too long.
Men were at last found willing to " bell the cat,"
the bundle of sticks was repeated, joint action did
much to ameliorate the condition of the game-eaten
farmer; competition for farm leases lessened as the
channels of emigration widened, and the Juggernaut
of " Game Protection " that once rolled over a thou-
sand Sillertons throughout Scotland, crushing, maim-
ing, grinding beneath its mighty wheels many a
noble and manly heart, many a sorrowing, despair-
ing woman, many a suffering child, lies low as that
202 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE.
Dagon that once fell crushed and broken before the
Ark of God.
Well might our children ask us if such things
could have been ; and well might strangers wonder
whether or not the narrator of Sillerton's " burdens "
was indulging in dismal romances, instead of delin-
eating a truthful tale.
Simple truth was promised in my preface, and
simple truth alone fills every chapter, and fills this
chapter as well.
On facts too well known I take my stand, and defy
contradiction of any kind, and from any quarter.
There are hundreds of witnesses, still in the prime
of life, who could corroborate every syllable I have
written here, and were I standing now in that " Auld
Kirkyard," I might point to more than one grave
and say Had the whole truth been carved on these
humble stones, their story might have read thus :
"DONE TO DEATH
BY
THE LAIKD OF SILLERTON
AND
BIS GAME!"
JV ULV-.LV TR USION. 203
CHAPTER XXII.
NON-INTRUSION THE NIGHT BEFORE THE BATTLE.
Oh ! what a parish, a parish, a parish !
Oh ! what a parish was drucken Dunkeld !
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.
204 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE.
It might fairly enough have been held, that no
one of immoral character could continue to inscribe
himself a probationer of the Kirk ; and it was
specially provided that the ministers of the Church
of Scotland had to be, like the Paschal lamb, with-
out blemish. And yet, notwithstanding such safe-
guards, it was quite possible that one might be forced
upon a congregation 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 have
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.
205
The Reverend Robert Fordyce whom we have oc-
casionally met before this in this narrative, was a
quiet, unassuming man, quite satisfied with things as
they were, and by no means of that volatile nature
that the smallest spark of excitement might fan into
flame.
Non-intrusion, therefore, did not make much 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 smithy
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
206 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE.
of the old masters, but yet full of admiration for a
system that had educated men who, in popular opin-
ion, could walk from Aberdeen to the Wall of China
without meeting with any difficulties in 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 pro-
fessional career beyond.
Amongst half a dozen youths then, scanning their
Hoi-ace, 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
weighed and gravely considered nay, ofttimes
argued as well.
Without, however, entering into polemics ; with-
out discussing the " Veto 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 our ecclesias-
tical troubles the " Culsalmond Riot."
There were doubtless grievances connected with
NONINTRUSION. 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 zeal had rolled over the 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 " Riot 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-
208 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE.
ally undone the evil that his erring brother had
contrived to do. But this, of course, was not
usually a matter of interest to the patron, who, if
he presented the son of an aspiring tenant to the
living, conferred a lasting favor, and occasionally
replenished his own depleted pocket-book.
Whatever was the cause, it was well known that
the Reverend Mr. Middleton was not by any means
the choice of the people. At the same time, the
Presbytery were precisely in the position of a judge
who had to pass sentence in accordance with exist-
ing laws. The judge had no jurisdiction over the
framing of laws, but had simply to act in accordance
with sue; i as had been placed upon the Statute Book.
And so with the Presbytery of Garioch ; they
were not the f ramers of laws, but simply the execu-
tive. The presentee of Culsalmond came before
them armed with the legal documents that proved
his position, and as soon as the Presbytery were
satisfied as to his learning, character, and divinity,
and no relevant objections were offered and sus-
tained, there was but one course open to them.
The Presbytery of Garioch therefore decided to
induct Mr. Middleton on the eleventh day of No-
vember, and appointed the Reverend George Peter,
of Kemnay, to preside on the occasion.
From rumors that had reached Sillerton that
NON-INTRUSION. 209
the parishioners would, by fair or foul means, resist
the settlement, a fellow-student and I thereupon
resolved to put in an appearance at Culsalmond on
that eventful November day.
Only fourteen miles or so separated us from the
field of expected battle, and the day before found us,
about its close, in the village of Old Rayne, where
we arranged to pass the night.
Brussels, the night before Waterloo, was not more
moved than that quiet village the night before the
Culsalmoud 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 wis likely to take place the following
day. Old Rayne, unlike Sillerton, was strong in
Non-intrusion sentiment, and soon its champions
appeared, prepared to do battle 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, and did battle for the Auld
Kirk as best we could.
It was, however, a hard fig'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
210 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE.
sense and genuine wit and rustic irony that were
employed against them. 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 was at least four or five years my senior, that
it was full time that the discussion should come to
a close, and that ordinary reasoning was evidently
not the weapon best suited to foil our opponents.
Suiting himself, therefore, to the exigencies of the
case, and the course of action lie had resolved to
take, he quoted from Acts that never existed, and
from speeches that had never been made, to prove
the stand we had taken, and the result was start-
ling. Day, date, and the ipsissima verba^ were
quoted, and as there were no documents on the spot
available to rebut the statements advanced, the re-
sult was very gratifying to us, and the enemies of
the Kirk were smitten, " hip and thigh," like the
Philistines of old before the irresistible prowess of
Samson.
Some one might naively hint here, "And by the
selfsame weapon." Nay, gentle reader, not so ; that
debater made his mark where Dugald Dalgetty got
his learning in Marischal College, Aberdeen and
NON-INTRUSION. 211
if any one who reads this page feels in any way anx-
ious to know who routed the Non-intrusionists of
Rayne, let him look into the chronicles of that
famous seat of learning, and amongst the first bur-
sars between 1840 and ten years thereafter he will
find the name of my comrade.
Verily, had he been so inclined, he might have be-
come Senior Wrangler of some celebrated English
University, as he was undoubtedly first wrangler in
the quiet village of Old Rayne on that eventful even-
ing in November ; but his lines fell to him in other
places.
We were eventually left in possession of the field ;
the baffled disputants one by one disappeared, and
we were anything but sorry that it was so.
Ten miles over country roads had made a few
hours of rest peculiarly desirable, and the tension,
of the tongue-and-mental struggle with the cham-
pions of Non-intrusion, had been like the last grain
of sand that broke the camel's back. Supremely
happy were we when we found ourselves alone; few
preparations were needed to compose our weary
limbs for the couch of rest; and the ringing sound
of the last hobnailed boot had scarcely died away on
the cobble-paved street of Old Rayne ere our heads
rested on our pillows, and we were folded in the
soporific arms of Morpheus.
212 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE.
CHAPTER XXIII.
THE CULSALMOND RIOT.
Whyles on the strong-wing'd tempest flyin,'
Tirlin' the kirks.
Address to the Deil.
NEXT morning found us ready for the road. It
was a cold November morning. Bennachie had
donned his white mantle, and snow-flurries, with
occasional showers of hard, biting hail, greeted us
as we wended our way towards the Church of
Culsalmond, which stood on an eminence that tested
well our staying powers, ere we conquered the " stey
brae" that lay between.
If company could help our cold tramp that morning
or forenoon, we should rather say, as we intended
to reach the church some time between 11 A.M. and
noon we certainly had it to our hearts' content.
From the farthest corners of the Garioch, men
and youths, moved by patriotic fires, or simple
curiosity, advanced in the direction of Culsalmond.
The whole district from Kintore in the southeast
to parishes far beyond the Glens of Foudland was
THE CULSALMOND RIOT. 213
deeply moved, the elements of combustion were al-
ready kindled, and the volcano was ready to burst
forth on the heights of Culsalmond.
The day was too cold for continuous disputation ;
generally we trudged on in dogged silence, and in
due course we reached our destination and seated
ourselves on an old tombstone near the church.
So far as I can recollect, there was no house of
entertainment near, but it seemed as if Scotch
caution had provided against all contingencies, and
that not a few were enabled, by the help of a little
mountain dew, to refresh the inner man after their
long and arduous walk, and to kindly temper to the
shorn lambs (God save the mark ! ) the biting
showers that still swept over hill and dale.
Deep speculation was at work as to what the
Presbytery would do. But, judging from the show
of legal assistance that was exhibited around the
church and manse, there was no doubt but that
Mr. Middleton's settlement was to be proceeded
with. One thing to me seemed remarkable. The
more prominent firebrands, as we learned from a
parishioner, were almost all strangers. Perhaps
Culsalmond was not a forcing-house for orators.
Be that as it may, the parishioners, I observed, said
very little.
They were pretty generally opposed to the system
214 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE.
that placed a clergyman over them, no matter what
their feelings were ; but against the presentee per-
sonally I heard not an evil word spoken, and the
future abundantly proved that their action that day
proceeded more from a conviction of principle than
from a point of feeling.
I have said " their action," but there was little, if
any action on their part that day, and what was
done then to entitle the guardians of the peace to
afterwards call the circumstances connected with
the settlement "The Culsalmond Riot" was done
principally perhaps entirely by outsiders.
One epithet of contempt I heard frequently
applied to Mr. Middleton " Teetaboutie." The ex-
pression awakened roars of laughter and shouts of
merriment. Yet, strange to say, the expression was
utterly meaningless in itself, and was simply the
name of a place where the presentee once lived.
I have frequently observed that in Scottish song,
sometimes the pathos depends, not so much on the
sentiment expressed, as on the voice lingering sympa-
thetically on perhaps a single word. What, after
all, is in our well-known and really charming song
"Robin Adair" to melt us to deepest sympathy or
even tears? And yet, when the simple refrain lov-
ingly wails forth from the very depths of the heart,
few songs can be more touching.
TIIE CULSALMOND RIOT. 215
Now, it was just so with Teetaboutie. In the
word itself there was nothing. If meaning there
once was, that meaning had probably died out, even
before the last Druid performed his rites in the
shadow of the " Maiden Stone." And yet, after
hearing Teetaboutie uttered by the human voice
that day in all its possible inflections whispered by
the young, rising like a slogan-yell from the capa-
cious throats and lungs of the sturdy ploughman,
and again quavering from the thin and pinched lips of
men bowed down with years and hoary with age
uttered through almost a round of the clock uttered
in all the notes of the gamut, from low "G"to
almost any conceivable height above, and in all its
multifarious tones, expressing only deep contempt
and irony, one may easily enough imagine what the
effect might be.
Had the tenant of that famous place offered the
writer of this the usufruct of that farm, free of
rental, and insisting only that the recipient should
bear the name, as all Scottish farmers do of their
farms, the only reply would have been an unmiti-
gated "No!"
Having now discussed Teetaboutie in all its bear-
ings, I shall again take up the narrative.
It is now past eleven, and at noon precisely the
members of the Garioch Presbytery intend to enter
216 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE.
the church. The crowd, however, had no idea that
such an entrance should be effected, and to carry
out their purpose they closed around the church
doors. No Roman soldier linked his shield more
closely with that of his comrade, when assaulting
some ancient wall, than "shoulder to shoulder"
stood those sturdy Presbyterians who that day
blockaded the church doors of Culsalmond.
At last, after some legal or ecclesiastical formal-
ities had been attended to, the word passed along
the line, if it may be so called, that the Presby-
tery were moving towards the church. The an-
swer was a shout of defiance and an additional
squeeze, as if some gigantic python had got another
coil of his tail around you, until you began to be in
doubt as to how much more pressure you could
endure.
The Presbytery of Garioch now approached very
close to the condensed crowd, but in this case
"Tommy didn't make room for his uncle," and it
looked at one time as if the blockade was not to be
broken. One, however, of the County Constabulary
had taken in the situation, and succeeded in carry-
ing his point. He was a small man physically, and
divesting himself of his uniform, which might have
opposed his progress door ward, lie somehow con-
trived to worm his way, without creating suspicion,
THE CULSALMOND RIOT. 217
to the desired spot. A quiet and unnoticed turn of
the key and the blockade was broken.
The first motion of the human mass cost that con-
stable a fractured rib, but beyond a sharp cry of
pain we knew nothing. We were sensible of a slow
grinding motion that was in unceasing progress ;
\ve faced sometimes the gable of the church and
sometimes the everlasting hills ; we were conscious
of acompressive force that was almost unbearable;
we had no power whatever to alter, in the very
slightest degree, the course we were involuntarily
taking, but we saw and felt that we were approach-
ing 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, lias never been forgotten. If two hun-
dred pounds upon the square inch 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 tension ed 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
218 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE.
one was produced by a species of vacuum in front,
and the 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
sound 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 chances of war, as any one might well
be while he 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 the Moderator ever
ascended the pulpit steps. 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 CULSALMOND RIOT. 219
to repletion, and as the uproar that raged on every
side would have precluded the possibility of any
human voice being heard, were it loud as that of an
African lion.
Patiently, 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 debar the clergy from the
church, was not the only disturbing element there,
but pieces 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 differences of opinion
as to the goodness of their cause ; there was but one
with respect to their bearing- under such peculiarly
trying circumstances, and that was one of general
admiration. Personally, 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 forefathers preaching to their
scattered followers amidst the mosses and moors of
troubled Scotland, where 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
220 SCOTTISH FOLK-LOBE.
are their sons now. After waiting for a consider-
able time for a patient hearing', the members of
Presbytery withdrew in a body from the building,
and sought the quieter rooms of the neighboring
manse, where the settlement of the presentee 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. " Holy 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 actors had left the manse for their com-
paratively distant homes, did the revellers pause in
their weird-like work, did the smoke 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 Culsalmond.
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 Culsalmond as a member
THE VL'LSALXOyi} K1OT. 221
of the Presbytery, and that while on his way homo
the day following, and not very far from the village,
some slight accident happened to the horse, and, iu
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 John
Gilpin's hat and wig, soon again on the road. The
father of the bride was somewhat dull of hearing,
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' frae, minister,
the ither day fin yer beastie fell i' the ditch ? " As
often the answer came, but in rather subdued tones.
The fourth " speerin' " brought a reply that was
heard all over the room, "From Culsalmond, sir!
from Culsalmond."
The smothered titter that rippled through the
well-filled apartment 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 clerical friend of mine in after years was
not so reticent as to tilings 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
222 SCOTTISH FOLK-LOBE.
that eventful evening, and, as a number of rustics
attempted to bar his way along Her Majesty's high-
way, he leapt his horse into a turnip field. Here ho
was rather closely followed for some distance by the
rabble, but, being well mounted, he got a slight dis-
tance ahead, and at last saw his way clear to the
highway again. Wheeling his panting nag towards
his pursuers, he lifted his hat, made a profound sa-
liuim, and rode away. This was too much for his tor-
mentors. One cheer was raised, and the chase ended.
This story he delighted to repeat long years after-
wards, and that exciting ride through that stiff tur-
nip-field gave him, in its remembrance, more delight
than the recollections of the best sermon he had ever
preached. Such are we all ; such is human nature
everywhere.
I saw the carriage of an aristocratic member of
Presbytery also leave the manse under difficulties.
A shower of something harder and larger than hail-
stones damaged considerably the " Dalrymple Anns''
on the well varnished panels, but the equanimity of
the occupant wus in no way disturbed. In conver-
sation afterwards the gallant baronet explained that
an ordinary shower of stones was not likely to intim-
idate a man who had lived for years with only a
sheet of gray paper between him and the infernal
region.
THE CULSALMOND RIOT. 223
In the witness-box some short time afterwards,
the undaunted elder further explained, that he had
spent several years of his life in latitudes where
volcanic eruptions were almost of daily occur-
rence.
Before closing this chapter I cannot fail to remark
the peculiar tendency of the Scottish mind to express
its feelings in verse under circumstances of an
exciting nature. The several ecclesiastical move-
ments that preceded the Disruption of 1843 seemed
to arouse this tendency to action.
I have in ray possession several specimens of what
were once called "Culsalmond Psalms," and they
exhibit no small amount of fire and sarcastic humor.
I presume, however, that, as in the case of the letters
of Junius, the same remark as to the authorship
may be repeated /Stat nominis umbra.
In my own case, while still in my teens, I was once
guilty of a slight act of indiscretion in turning into
rude verse the ludicrous adventure of a love-sick
well-known breeder of Aberdeenshire cattle. It was
never intended that the little "jeu de esprit" should
go further than the dining-room table, but the re-
tentive memory of a listener immortalized what
should have been committed to oblivion. Xext
market day, the song was said and sung through
the ancient burgh of Inverurie.
224 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE.
Nor was ib cast as a waif upon the world, for the
paternity was willingly owned by one who that day
reaped a golden harvest from its sale.
I can recall still the sturdy upper-country poet,
opening his musical campaign on the forenoon of a
market day. Clad in home-spun, the stalwart Glen-
livat man tossed the loose end of his plaid over his
shoulder, and, stepping forward, half sung, half
recited rhymes such as the following :
" I'm John Milne frae Li vat's glen ;
I wrat it doon wi' my ain pen.
Over the mountains, over the main,
Ridin' thro' France, and gallopin' thro' Spain :
Skippin' the mountains like a craw,
And o'er the hills to Americaa ! "
Such was the poet who claimed my verses, and sold
them, too. Unlike the great Roman Virgil, I left
the perpetrator of "petty larceny " to en joy his gold
and his laurels in peace, but sometimes in after
years, when T have heard a verse or two of my effu-
sion quoted, doubtless a very sinister smile may have
played around my lips.
It is possible that even, now after so many years
have come and gone, some old friend of the Garioch
Presbytery may read these lines, and, thinking of
little links that connected him with those troublous
and stormy times, smile also, and half own that there
THE CULSALMOND RIOT. 225
were more Johnny Milnes in tlie world than one,
more shadows that will remain shadows to the
end.
History but repeats itself, and even with regard
to the Culsalmond Psalms, we may again quote the
saying Stat nominis umbra!
226 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE.
CHAPTER XXIV.
LAST DAYS AT SCHOOL.
And will it breathe into him all the zeal,
That candidates for such a prize should feel,
To take the lead and be the foremost still
In all true worth and literary skill ?
COWPER.
WITH the close of events narrated in the last
chapter, the ecclesiastical battles of the Garioch
ceased, so far at least as we were concerned, and the
Latinists of Sillerton had settled down to what boys
now would c ill a " steady grind. "
Time was creeping on, and we were approaching
that age when we were expected to push our
fortune on a wider field than in the parish school.
It was, indeed, no child's play that lay before us
now.
By " us," I mean half a dozen youths, not yet
claiming the sweet sixteen, but closely approaching
ib, and grinding up, for all they were worth, the
different branches of study that might land them
amongst the list of prizemen, who by and by would
LAST DAYS AT SCHOOL. 227
reap the laurels of the annual competition at the
two Aberdeen Universities, then two in everything
but divinity, now happily blended into one noble
institution, able and willing to educate the aspiring
youth of the North.
The subjects on which the competitors would be
examined were simply two, namely, the rendering
of English into Latin, and vice versa, or the render-
ing of Latin into English, or as we called it, "version
and translation." To become proficient in these two
subjects required no small amount of self-denial and
study.
We had a teacher fresh from academic halls him-
self, and burning to send youths to the competition,
who, in winning honors to themselves, would reflect
a portion of that honor upon their teacher. We
were then ably coached. The usual hour for school
was ten, but the teacher and Latinists met at nine,
so as to have a good hour of higher education, with-
out those interruptions which were likely to occur
when the ordinary scholars began the work of the
day.
Every morning a version, as it was called, was
given out, while the one of the day before was
examined and duly rated. How anxiously we
listened to the reading of the daily record !
Men waiting to hear the decision of a jury that
228 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE.
chained them or set them free, were not more anxious
than we were, and when the name came with the
coveted Sine err ore, this was one of the happiest
moments of our life.
But, after all, was this not a foreshadowing of
many a scene of after-life, where we, or such as we,
must needs be judged ? Are there not times when
the malicious efforts of enemies may conspire to
materialize a cloud around us ; when treacherous lips
will whisper doubtings softly to the ear, that would
not dare to speak them out manfully, face to face ;
when appearances that in themselves meant little
or nothing were so distorted and twisted by diabolical
manipulation as to almost prove anything whatever;
and yet, at length, when the vile attempt has broken
down, when the clouds of cruel suspicion have
"rolled by," when they who may have been led to
doubt us, have found cause to give a purer and holier
judgment then the verdict of our boyhood's teacher
is again repeated, and to our ears comes once again
the pleasing judgment Sine errore.
And looking beyond self, there are few who have
not made some "maxies" in the version of life.
Ah ! when an erring brother or maybe sister is being
weighed, let, then, our gentler sympathies go forth
through that indescribable feeling that links one
heart to another go forth to help the weak to
LAST DAYS AT SCHOOL. 1>29
weigh down the beam on mercy's side. Such may
he like bread cast upon the waters, that shall yet be
found again, even though after many days.
And when our own last account is rendered, may
errors, failings, weaknesses, transgressions all be
blotted out, and through the merits of One who
once said nay, often said "Though your sins be
like scarlet they shall be as white as snow," and
who, though now exalted, feels as we feel, in the
possession of a nature the same as ours. Then may
our record, with all its imperfections, be accepted
through His merits alone, and over the blurred and
obliterated evidences of much shortcoming, the ver-
dict be clearly and distinctly written Sine 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 Rudiments, from title-page
to finis ; Melvin's Grammar, with its hundreds of
lines of Latin hexameters ; 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. Xor did we flinch from the ordeal.
We were well coached, as stated before. The
master had himself travelled over the same road.
230 SCOTTISH FOLK-LOBE.
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 an
experience of my own in the earlier stages of our
Latinity.
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 over 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 despair. He quietly took me
aside, asked what was the matter, and questioned
me with evident anxiety if T 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 laid my
hands upon one of Jane Porter's novels " Thaddeus
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 ; Lack
came the hexameters in all their beauty and smooth-
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 and seek " was
unquestionably a fascinating game even when played
by boys, but when the challenge came, "Boys and
232 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE.
girls come out to play," its charms 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 the 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 moonbeams.
Ah! much do I fear, were the truth told, that
Thaddeus of Warsaw was not the only disturbing
influence that crept into the parish school to cripple
our hexameters ; there were little episodes of ro-
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.
I fear, also, that in these cases we were not quite
so candid as when the Polish patriot was at fault J
it would have taken more than thumbscrews to
make us own to the douce dominie that somebonnie
Jean had come between us and our allotted tasks ;
we were willing to stand unlimited chaffing in such
LAST D.ll'.S AT SCHOOL. i>33
a cause ; the secret, after all, was our own, and were
we not acting up to the advice of our great bard,
and who knew better? " And keep aye something
to yoursell, ye dinna tell to ony."
The autumn games were then not for us, 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 Grammar
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
great Grampian range, makes home-leaving any-
thing but painful, but in our case, there was no play
in prospect, 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-LORE.
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 disappoint-
ment to their homes. 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
difficult to determine. Much might be said on both
sides. Doubtless what was done was done for the
best, and at all events, in the present case, while it
hinted at the painful consequences of defeat, it neither
v/eakened hand nor heart in preparing for the fray.
My father, with commendable caution, had, un-
kno'.vn to any member of the family, procured for
me the 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 1
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
LAST DAYS AT SCHOOL. 235
an intenseness in the work done then, that was never
felt afterwards in the same ratio.
There was then 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 lie within the compass of
my own hands, and like the youthful warrior who
buckled on for the first 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 iny 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 FOLK-LORE.
again the fervent wish that we might distinguish
ourselves in the approaching classic tournament, and
shed fresh lustre, not only upon ourselves, but upon
the Grammar School of Old Aberdeen, nay, upon its
rector as well.
Well might we have all replied, prayerfully, fer-
vently, humbly, " So mote it be."
TIJE CONCLUSION. 237
CHAPTER XXV.
THE CONCLUSION THE COMPETITION AND
THE 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 the close,
As the last taste of sweets is sweetest last ;
Writ in remembrance, more than things long past.
RicJiard II.
ON a bleak morning near the end of October,
between tbe 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, after
all, but a few prizes to offer, and where also, the
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
238 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE.
would have found a place, and, provided their La-
tin ity 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 the north.
Two or three professors were on duty. Poor lit-
tle Tulloch went limping round the room, as anx-
ious and fidgety as if he were one of the competi-
tors himself; Greek "Habby," though old and frail,
still held his own, and looked as if, when in his
prime, he would have been more likely to have proved
the victor in an old-time wrestling match than to
win the poet's crown at the Olympic games.
And last, though not least, came burly 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 him without
dreaming of Cicero, and it was generally believed,
at least amongst the " Bageants," 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-
nary Latin dictionary, and keen eyes watched that
no other tome or notes of any kind were used. The
THE CONCLUSION. 239
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 Hall 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 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE.
his name on a coupon attached, separated the two
and placed the pieces in different boxes.
This closed the first day's work in fact, the more
important part of the competition as the transla-
tion of Latin into English was not considered by
any means so drastic a test of mental capacity, as
the turning of English into choice Ciceronian Latin.
Next day found us at our post again, with the
same guard mounted over us, and when the hours
for work were exhausted time was again called, the
same boxing operation took place as on the day
previous, and we, alone or in small groups, wended
our ways to our respective places of abode, to go
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 looked
into ; genders of nouns, conjugations of verbs, and
rules of syntax had all been applied as a line and
plummet to the double exercise, and I felt reasonably
satisfied with what I had done.
The schoolmaster of Sillerton was dulv commurtj-
THE CONCLUSION. 241
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
had 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 my 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, Serva
jitgum, painted boldly upon its capacious signboard,
16
242 SCOTTISH FOLK-LORE.
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 culprit 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
TllE CONCLUSION. 243
is still a moment's pause, and then a whisper passes
along the professorial line, and seems particularly
directed to the centre figure of the group.
I 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 SCOTTISH FOLK-LOBE.
Another and another name is called, and my
hopes are beginning to sink low. Ten or eleven
names have been called, and yet Sillerton 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 my 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
THE CONCLUSION. 245
the banks of the Spey, learned as Sillerton boys
learned their Latin and Greek, and which still, on
occasions, even after the 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.
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