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 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 oi29 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. UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA AT LOS ANGELES THE UNIVERSITY LIBRARY This book is DUE on the last date stamped below Form L- 20m-l,'42<80H LOS ANGELES A 000994 187 3