The Bradford A. Booth Collection in English and American Literature h Reading Room UCLA V^ < V Morlts of 3o!jn (Salt SIR ANDREW WYLIE OF THAT ILK I. JOHN QALT'S NOVELS. A new illustrated edition. With an Introduc- tion by S. R. Crockett. The text revised and edited by D. Storrar Meldrum. With portrait and illustrations from drawings by John Wallace. IGmo volumes, cloth. Price, $1.25 each. THE ANNALS OF THE PARISH AND THE AYRSHIRE LEGATEES. 2 vols. SLR ANDREW WYLLE. 2 vola. THE PROVOST AND THE LAST OF THE LAIRDS. 2 vols. THE ENTAIL. 2 vob. ROBERTS BROTHERS, BOSTON. Honest woman, ye 're in a mistake. Works of John Gait. Edited l)ij D. Sturrar Mcldrum SIR ANDREW WYLIE OF THAT ILK WITH INTRODUCTION BY S. R. CROCKETT ILLUSTRATIONS BY JOHN WALLACE VOLUME I. BOSTON ROBERTS BROTHERS 1805 CONTENTS INTRODUCTION CHAPTER I THE COTTAGE CHAPTER II THE MAGPIE PAOE xiii THE TASK . THE FAIR . CHAPTER III CHAPTER IV CHAPTER V COMMON-SENSE CHAPTER VI THE CONSULTATION . THE OUTFIT CHANGES . PREPARATIONS CHAPTER VII CHAPTER VIII CHAPTER IX 13 21 28 35 41 47 52 vi CONTENTS CHAPTER X PAfiK DEPARTURE 69 CHAPTER XI EDINBURGH 66 CHAPTER XII LONDON 72 CHAPTER XIII FIRST IMPRESSIONS 82 CHAPTER XIV A MASQUERADE 90 CHAPTER XV AN INVITATION 93 CHAPTER XVI A DINNER-PARTY 104 CHAPTER XVII BORROWING 110 CHAPTER XVIII AN ACCIDENT 119 CHAPTER XIX A PARAGRAPH 127 CHAPTER XX AN EXPLANATION 133 CHAPTER XXI AN EVENT 142 CHAPTER XXII NEGOTIATION , 152 CONTENTS vii CHAPTER XXIII PAOB PERPLEXITIES 161 CHAPTER XXIV A MAN OF BUSINESS 171 CHAPTER XXV GRATITUDE 178 CHAPTER XXVI AN ALE-HOUSE 183 CHAPTER XXVII A DOWAGER 190 CHAPTER XXVIII AN ATTEMPT 199 CHAPTER XXIX THE FAMILY MANSION 209 CHAPTER XXX NOBLE AUTHORSHIP 218 CHAPTER XXXI A SECRET EXPEDITION 233 CHAPTER XXXII A MYSTERY 243 CHAPTER XXXIII A DISCOVERY 254 CHAPTER XXXIV OUTSIDE TRAVELLING 265 CHAPTER XXXV CONVERSATION . ., 276 viii CONTENTS CHAPTER XXXVI PAOK NEW LIGHTS 2b7 CHAPTER XXXVII THE CASTLE 294 CHAPTER XXXVIII INEXPERIENCE 302 CHAPTER XXXIX AT FAULT 308 CHAPTER XL A SCIENTIFIC BARONET 314 CHAPTER XLI A REMONSTRANCE 320 CHAPTER XLII ENCOURAGEMENT 327 CHAPTER XLIII INSIGHT 333 CHAPTER XLIV STK.ITAGEMS 341 CHAPTER XLV THE FOREST 350 CHAPTER XLVI HOSPITALITY 355 CHAPTER XLVI I EXPLANATIONS 3G2 CHAPTER XLVIII TIIE EXAMINATION . , 3C8 ILLUSTRATIONS TO VOLUME I HONEST WOMAN, YE'RE IN A MIS- TAKE " .... Frontispiece HE WAS SURPRISED TO FIND THEM SEATED TOGETHER " . to face page 284 INTRODUCTION INTRODUCTION I T has been generally said that " Sir Andrew Wylie," was, at the time of its publication, the most popular of Gait's works in England. Probably this popularity never meant very much. But if it had been much more extensive than it was, and if the knowledge of the hero of Gait's story had been widespread, we might, I think, have safely indicated Sir Andrew Wylie as the original of the Scot of low comedy and popular jest in fact, the Bang- wcnt-Saxpence Scotchman. But the conception is likely far older than Gait, probably at least as old as the Union of the crowns, and the japes that were made then upon the penuriousness of the crowd of hungry adventurers, who accompanied King James southward from Holy rood in 1603. Never, however, has the type been clothed xiv INTRODUCTION with such kindly flesh and blood as in the ad- ventures of the quaint " auld-farrant " boy, the uncouth, keen-witted lad, the pushing, provi- dent, kindly man, whose progress Gait has so sympathetically described in Andrew " Whcelie." It is no slight merit to have plumbed the inwardness of such a conception. It is a service not slight to have interpreted the care- ful, determined architect of a man's own fortunes, who never lets slip a chance, who ever takes the tide of affairs at the flood, who leaps to embrace Fortune when she stands a-tiptoe ; and yet at the same time to have succeeded in preserving withal, through all the prosperity and success, the simplicity of the boy who kept the sweetie-stall at the fair, and who carried his grandmother's Testament to the kirk, done up in a white napkin with a piece of " sidder- \vood. " In some ways " Sir Andrew Wylie " appears to me little short of a triumph. In others it falls immeasurably below the steady sweetness of placid dignity which characterises "The Annals of the Parish." In " Sir Andrew," the INTRODUCTION xv author has tried for more. lie has achieved less. Indeed, to tell the truth, plot, counter- plot, and the involution of society ai*e not in his way. The fine fury evolved out of the tangled relations of the Earl and Countess of Sandyford seems to me like the mimicry of puppets strung on wires. Gait had perhaps better have left all this sort of thing alone. The Earl's character reflects accurately the contemporary Byronic conceptions of the reck- less spendthrift peer, with the languid manners and the excellent heart. The quarrel with the Countess also has Byronic suggestions, and much of the fine society is a pale reflection of the justly forgotten society novels of the earlier part of the century. These things are wholly out of key with the time of the American War to which the Scottish portions belong. But all the early part of the book is in the author's finest vein. The description of the cottage and fittings belonging to Martha Docken, the hero's grandmother, the incidents of the hero's schooling, and very especially the " awful-like thing " the vengeance taken by xvi INTRODUCTION the boys for the death of Wheclie's parrot, are of the intimate essence of Scotland as it was at the end of the eighteenth century. It is true that only those who have them- selves smarted under the black-thonged taws, who have climbed the braes sparsely wooded with birch and hazel, on Saturday afternoons free and golden, who have sweated over the learning of " fifty psalms," and suffered for their costivencss with " Effectual Calling " are really capable of knowing how superexcellent these early chapters of " Sir Andrew Wylie "* are. It may be some consolation to the unfor- tunates who were born under other and less friendly stars, and whose experiences have not the ragged edge of enjoyment which comes by contrast with bygone stern realities, to know that the impressions of life which Gait gives are entirely faithful, both in their general impression and in the very abundant detail with which he supports them. There never was a more veracious chronicler than John Gait, or one better qualified for the task. No doubt the same slee, pawky, well-con- INTRODUCTION xvii siclcrcd straightforwardness, which the keen and not over-indulgent eyes of Thomas Carlyle discerned in Gait, found its way into the ad- ventures of "Sir Andrew Wylie." His hero early makes the discovery that the finest manners are composed in equal parts of good feeling, naturalness, and care for the sensibilities of others. Pie is aware that to attempt to assimilate himself' with the distinguished society in the midst of which he moves would be fatal to his plans for his own advancement. So he is constrained to be himself. For instance, in an admirable passage his master is conveying to him the news that by the generosity of Lord Sandy ford, Andrew is assured of the income of seven hundred and fifty pounds a year for seven years. Mr. Vellum thinks that the time is a suitable one for giving a little advice to his lucky ap- prentice. " I hope," he says, " that you will set in seriously to your profession and throw off your ridiculous manners for the future."" " That would be a doing indeed ! " exclaimed xviii INTRODUCTION our hero, " when you are just at this precious moment telling me that they have already brought me in seven hundred and fifty pounds a year. 11 This answer puzzled the lawyer, who laughed as he said, " Well, well, take your own way ; but it is no longer necessary for you to be so penurious." " That's very true,"" replied Andrew, " and I'm thankfu' that it is sae ; but if I dinna save now, where, in the lang run, will I be better for my lord's bountiful patronage ? No, sir, ye maun juist let me ride my ain horse wi 1 my ain hauding." It is quite true that Andrew, while engaged in engineering his fortune, looks on everything with a clear eye to his own advantage, and plainly declares that he means to utilise ail his favour with the great. But the meanness, if not the smallness, of such a declaration is largely atoned for by the transparent simplicity and sincerity of his character as well as by the fact that he never forgets an early friend. He rejoices the heart of his grandmother, and INTRODUCTION xix finally returns full of his original and unspoiled simplicity to his own village. Truth to tell, we occasionally get a little tired of "Caliban" in the gay society of the day. The oaf wears his oafdom a trifle too obviously. Also, there are lapses from good taste which increase as the political and other intrigues thicken. We feel instinctively that the author is not at home here. He is playing upon an instrument of which he does not know the strings. We get, it is true, the continuous impression of the forceful man of affairs. We learn that honest and homely common sense, reinforced by natural shrewdness and some lack of rose- water scruples as to meddling with tar, is an excellent working equipment wherewith to face the world and erect the edifice of fortune. But there is, it seems to me, a little too much of the " Successful Merchant " about this part of the book, somewhat too obvious a dwelling upon the fruits of monetary and social success. The reason of this is obvious enough. These were the sorts of success which during part of xx INTRODUCTION his life Gait himself aspired to ; but which he did not, in any great measure, succeed in achieving. And he failed largely for the lack of that very suppleness in speech and demeanour with which he has credited " Wheelie." Gait was ever ready to put forward his own opinion, and if it were not precisely acceptable to his superiors, he was just as ready to back his judgment by sending in his resignation. He had no judicious suppleness of neck. He could bide the buffet, but he had no idea of " jooking to let the jaw go by." As soon, however, as the "Sir Andrew w leaves London behind, with all the quirks and smirks of political society, and sets foot again on the beloved land, we have our own rich, simple, gracious John Gait. Each unstudied line runs rippling in the heart of every Scottish lad who has ventured afield, and after long years has returned to find the old order unchanged indeed, yet strangely new because of the eyes full of experience that now look upon the scene. " All things, as he approached the hamlet, had become smaller and INTRODUCTION xxi meaner ; the trees appeared stunted, the hedges more rude and irregular, and the distance between each well-known object greatly abridged.' 1 The houses had other occupants, the kenned faces are few and far between only the river sung the same well-remembered tune and the ash-trees stood out against the sky in the summer twilight as when he was a boy. All the latter part of " Sir Andrew Wylie " is full of these delightful things. Gait seems exceedingly glad (as no doubt he was in reality) to get quit of London and his romantic plot. On his own ground he is like a " China pourie fu* o' cream." Every line is a picture. The kindly nature of the man wins a hundred ways out. For Sir Bountiful, coming home with his long purse and his long head never bestowing in the wrong place, never grudging in the right, is precisely the figure John Gait would have liked to make upon his own return from Canada. Alas, that in a sentence of his own we should read the picture of what his actual return was xxii INTRODUCTION like. " There are but two situations in which the adventurer, returning home, can duly appreciate the delightful influences of such an hour of holiness and beauty and rest. "The one, when he is retreating from an unsuccessful contest with fortune when, baffled and mortified by the effects either of his integrity or of his friendlessness, he abandons the struggle, and retires to his native shades as to the embrace of a parent, to be lulled by sounds that were dear to his childhood, and which he fondly hopes will appease his sorrows and soothe him asleep for ever." *Yet who shall say that John Gait, when he turned his face to the wall, made not a better end, neglected by the great ones of the earth whom he had so faithfully served, but dignified by his own honour and sincerity, than even the wholly successful baronet and kindly adven- turer whom, in this book, he has so excellently pourtrayed. S. R. CROCKETT. SIR ANDREW WYLIE SIR ANDREW WYLIE CHAPTER I The Cottage. SlR ANDREW WYLIE, like the generality of great geniuses, was born and bred in very humble circumstances. By the early death of both his parents he was consigned in infancy to the care of his maternal grandmother, Martha Docken, one of those clachan carlins who keep alive among the Scottish peasantry the traditions and senti- ments which constitute so much of the national character. This old woman resided in the hamlet of Stoneyholm, in the shire of Ayr. Her sole breadwinner was her spinning-wheel ; and yet she was cheerfully contented with her lot, for it had pleased Heaven to bless her with a blithe spirit and a religious trust in the goodness of Providence. The furniture of her cottage, in ad- dition to Andrew's cradle (and that was borrowed), consisted of one venerable elbow-chair, with a tall perpendicular back curiously carved, a f 2 SIR ANDREW WYLIE family relic of better days, enjoyed by her own or her husband's ancestors ; two buffet-stools, one a little larger than the other ; a small oaken claw-foot table ; her wheel, a hand- reel, a kail-pot, and a skillet, 1 together with a scanty providing of bedding, and a chest that w T as at once coffer, wardrope, and ambry. 2 Behind the house she had a patch of some five or six falls 3 of ground for a garden, which she delved and planted herself; and the rent she paid for the whole was ten shillings per annum. The gathering of this sum, after she received the heavy handful of Andrew, a weak and ailing baby, required no little care. But, instead of re- pining at the burden, she often declared to the neighbours that he was " great company ; and, though at times a wee fashious, 4 he's an auld- farand 5 bairn, and kent a raisin frae a black clock c before he had a tooth : putting the taen in his mouth wi' a smirk, but skreighing 7 like desperation at the sight o' the ither." During the summer of the first year after Andrew had been brought home to her, she was generally seen sitting with her wheel, basking in the sun, at the gable of her cottage, with her grandson at 1 Skillet. A hand-bell. 2 Ambry (Almcric). Cupboard. 3 Fall. A measure equal nearly to an English rood. 4 Fashions. Troublesome. 5 Au/d-farand. Sagacious. c Black dock. Black-beutlo. 7 Skreiyhing. Screeching. her side in her biggest stool, turned upside down, amusing himself with the cat. Andrew was a small and delicate child ; but he grew apace, and every day, in the opinion of his grandmother, improved in his looks. " His een," as she said to her kimmers l while she dandled him at the door as they stopped to speak to her in passing, " are like gowans in a May morning, and his laugh's as blithe as the lilt o' the linty." Philosophers, in these expressions, may discover the fond anticipations of hopeful affection look- ing forward to a prosperous fortune for the child ; but Andrew for a long time showed no indication of possessing anything in common with the talents that are usually supposed requisite to ensure dis- tinction or riches. In his boyhood, however, Martha frequently obsei-ved " That he was a pawkie laddie, and if he wasna a deacon at book lair, he kent as weel as the maister himsel' how mony blue beans it taks to mak five." The " maister " here spoken of was Dominie Tarmy- hill, one of those meek and modest novices of the Scottish priesthood, who, never happening to meet with any such stroke of good fortune as the lot of a tutor in a laird's family, wear out the even tenor of their blameless days in the little troubles of a village school. At the time when Andrew was placed under his care, the master seemed to be about forty, but he was pi'obably two or three years younger. He was pale and J Kimmers. Neighbours, gossips. 4 SIR ANDREW WYLIE thin, and under the middle size, and stooped a little, as if his head had been set on somewhat awry. It proceeded, however, from a habit which he had acquired, in consequence of being short- sighted, and accustomed to write and read with his ear almost touching the paper. At times he would erect himself even into something like an air of dignity, and change his lowly and diffident tone into the voice and accent of an earnest and impassioned eloquence. Everything in his appearance indicated a moderate spirit, in perfect accordance with the mildness of his manners, and his few and humble acquirements ; but there was an apostolic energy in his thoughts, when his own feelings were roused, or when he addressed himself to move those of others, by which nature at times showed how willing she was, if fortune had so pleased, to make him a pathetic and impressive preacher. Whether he ever felt the longings of ambition, or, rather, whether lie ever repined at the un- heeded and unknown estate in which he was left to pass away, like a sequestered spring, whose pure and gentle course is only seen in the meadows by a little narrow edging of richer verdure, could never be discovered in the still sobriety of his placid temper ; but if all other passions were hushed in his quiet bosom, the kindly disposition which lie showed towards every living thing begat in the minds of his pupils an affectionate respect, of far greater power in the THE COTTAGE 5 little state and commonwealth of his school than would have been yielded to the authority of more arrogant abilities, backed by the taws, that dreaded satrap of Scottish didactic discipline. In his dress, the master was as remarkable as in his mind and manners. His linen was always uncommonly neat, and his coat and vest of raven grey, though long threadbare, never showed a broken thread or the smallest stationary speck of dust. His breeches, of olive thickset, were no less carefully preserved from stains ; and his dark blue worsted gamashins, 1 reaching above the knees in winter, not only added to the comfort of his legs, but protected his stockings. Between his cottage and the church, or in the still evenings when he was seen walking solitary along the unti-odden parts of the neighbouring moor, he wore a small cocked -hat, and, as his eyes were weak and tender, in bright weather he commonly slackened the loops, and, turning the point round, converted the upright gable of the back into a shade. If the master, like other potentates, had a favourite, it was certainly our hero, at whose droll and whimsical remarks he was sometimes observed almost to smile. For Andrew was not long at school till he showed that he was, at least with respect to his sayings, destined to attract notice. Indeed, on the very first day when his grandmother herself led him to the door with his 1 Gnmiiitliinx. Leg-protectors. A i/ameson, as described in authorities on ancient armour, was little different from the jack. 6 SIR ANDREW WYLIE A B board in his hand, he got a name that he never lost. After the dismissal of the school, as he was playing with the other boys on the high- road, a carriage and four horses, with outriders, happened to pass, whirling along with the speed and pride of nobility. The school-boys, exhila- rated by the splendour of a phenomenon rare in those days in Stoneyholm, shouted with gladness as it passed, and our hero animated the shout into laughter by calling out, " Weel dune, wee wheelie : the muckle ane canna catch you." From that time he was called " Wheelie ; " but, instead of being offended by it, as boys commonly are by their nicknames, he bore it with the greatest good-humour, and afterwards, when he had learned to write, marked his books and copies with " Andrew Wheelie, his book." Even the master in time used to call him Wheelie, and insensibly fostered his taste for the odd and droll by sometimes inviting him on a Saturday after- noon to partake of his pale and economical tea. Andrew, who was naturally shrewd and observant, perceiving that the master was diverted by his humour, exerted himself on these occasions, by which exercise he gradually acquired a degree of readiness and self-possession in conversation un- usual among Scottish boys, and a happy vernacu- lar phraseology which he retained through life, and, with those who had a true relish of character, was enjoyed as something as rare and original as the more elegant endowment of genius. CHAPTER II The Magpie. xVNDREW was "not distinguished among his school-fellows by any particular predilection for those amusements in which the boys of a country school are so adventurous ; yet he was always a desired member of their nesting parties in the spring and nutting excursions in the autumn : for his drollery and good-humour knit their hearts to him, and if he seldom strung an egg of his own berrying, and absolutely, at all times, refused to risk his neck on the boughs of the hazel, lie still brought home his full share of the holiday plunder. On an occasion when a pyet's l nest was scaled, only a single young one was found ; and it was so strong and cunning that it almost escaped from the grasp of Willy Cunningham, the boy who was sent up the tree. Some debate ensued, on the division of the day's spoil, as to who should get the magpie. Andrew thought that it ought to be given to Willv ; but Cunningham, a frank and generous fellow, insisted that it should be 1 Pyct'is. Magpie's. 8 SIR ANDREW WYLIE Wheelie's, assigning as a reason that Maggy (as Andrew had called it on the spot) "was an auld- farand thing like himself and would learn mair Avi' him than wi' ony other laddie at the school." Cunningham's proposal was ratified with a unani- mous shout ; and, certainly, no bird was ever more appropriately disposed of, for Andrew not only taught it to fetch and carry, and to filch with surprising address, but to speak several words with the most diverting distinctness. Maggy her- self seemed to be right well pleased with her master ; and, according to tradition, knew every word he said, with the discernment of a fairy. When his companions, in the winter evenings, assembled round his grandmother's hearth, Maggy placed herself between his legs ; and as often as he said anything that tickled their young fancies turned up her cunning eye, and then jocundly chattered with her bill, as if she participated in their laughter. The natural knavery of the magpie being culti- vated by education, she sometimes took it into her head to pilfer a little on her own account, and among others who suffered by her depreda- tions was the master. Between the school hours he always opened the windows to ventilate the room ; and Maggy, as often as she could, availed herself of the opportunity to steal the boys' pens. It happened, however, that she went once too often, and was caught in the fact, with a new pen in her neb. The master's own kindly humour THE MAGPIE 9 induced him to pardon the bird ; but as quarrels had arisen among the boys, occasioned by the loss of their pens, one accusing the other of the theft, he deemed it incumbent on him to rebuke the owner of the depredator. Accordingly, when the school assembled in the afternoon, he pro- claimed silence ; and, taking up Maggy from under a basket where he had imprisoned her, he addressed the boys to the following effect, " Wha' amang you is guilty of keeping this misleart l and unprincipled pyet, which is in the practice, whenever I leave the windows open to air the school, of coming in and stealing the pens from off the desks carrying them awa' in its neb, without ony regard for the consequence ? " " It's mine," cried Andrew. " Yours ! " said the master. " Then, Wheelie, come ye here, for I maun point out to you the great error of such conduct. It is, as ye maun surely hae often heard, an auld and a true saying, that ' They wha begin wi' stealing needles and prins, may end wi' horned knout.' 2 I'm no saying, so ye needna nicher, 3 that ever this pyet will steal either horse or black cattle ; but I would exhort you, nevertheless, to put it away, for it is a wicked bird, and may, by its pranks, entice you to do evil yoursel. I dinna, however, recommend that ye should put the poor creature to death : that would be a cruelty, and, besides, ye ken it's 1 Mishart. Unmannerly ; then mischievous. - Knout (Nolt). Ulnck cattle. j\'ic/tcr. Snigger. 10 SIR ANDREW WYLIE but a feathered fowl, and no endowed wi' ony natural understanding of good and evil. It kens nae better, like the other beasts that perish, than to mak its living in a dishonest manner. There- fore, I counsel you just to take it to the woods, and set it at liberty, where it may fall out in some other's hand." To this Andrew replied, with one of his pawkie glances, " It's but the first fault o' poor Maggy, master, and ye shouldna be overly severe, for she doesna ken, as ye say, that theeving's a sin ; so I hope ye'll allow me to gie her an opportunity to tak up the steik l in her stocking, and I'll ad- monish her weel when I get her hame. O ! ye sinfu' bird. Are ye no ashamed of yoursel, to bring such disgrace on me ? " Maggy instantly testified her contrition and her thankfulness for the advocacy of her master by hopping from the relaxed grasp of the good- natured dominie, and nestling in his bosom. " It's really a droll beast : I maun alloo that, and I'll forgie you for this ae time," said the master ; " but I would advise you to tie a string to its leg, and keep it in the house, for there's no telling what it may commit." Andrew having thus obtained pardon for the magpie, she became a greater favourite than ever with the boys, and produced precisely the effects which the master had feared. Nothing portable at open window was safe from her thievish bill, i SttiL Stitch. THE MAGPIE 11 least of all the thread-papers of Miss Mizy Cunningham, the maiden aunt of the boy by whose good-nature our hero became master of the bird. Miss Mizy lived in the mansion-house of Craiglands, close to the village, and had under her dominion Willy and his sister Mary ; for their mother was dead, and the laird, their father, troubled himself very little with any earthly thing. He was, as Andrew described him, "a carle that daunered l about the doors wi' his hands in his pouches, and took them out at meal-time." As for Miss Mizy herself, she was a perfect paragon of gentility and precision. However slovenly the grounds about the house were kept, the interior of the mansion was always in the trimmest order ; and nothing could exceed the nun-like purity of the worthy lady's own cambric- clad person. It happened that, by the death of a relation, it was necessary the family should be put into mourning ; and Miss Mizy, for this purpose, had bought herself a suit of sable, as well as a due portion of crape, and the other requisites of funereal sorrow. She was sitting, busy with her needle, making up the dress at the parlour window, which was open, when Andrew, one afternoon, with his pyet, came to ask Willy to go out with him. Maggy had so often teased Miss Mizy by pilfering her thread-papers that justice and vengeance were sworn against her. This the 1 Daunered. Loafod. 12 SIR ANDREW WYLIB boys were well aware of, but could not resist the temptation of " setting up the birses l of aunty." Maggy, accordingly, was set loose. In a moment she was in at the window, and had seized a thread- case. Miss Mizy, however, before the pyet could escape, darted at her like a cat on a mouse ; and almost in the same instant poor Maggy, with her neck twisted, was flung out with such fury at Andrew that it almost knocked him down. This was a dreadful outrage on the part of Miss Mizy, and the whole school participated in the revenge which was vowed against the murderer of Maggy. Nor was ever revenge more complete. Next day, the principal companions of Andrew provided themselves with a large tub, which they filled with water from the laird's stable-yard ; and Andrew, going up to the window where Miss Mizy was again sitting at her seam, while the other conspirators were secretly bringing the tub under the window, cried, " Ye auld radons, 2 what gart you kill my pyet ? Odd, I'll mak you rue that. Nae wonder ye ne'er got a man, ye cankery runt, 3 wi' your red neb and your tinkler tongue." This was enough. Miss Mizy rose like a tem- pest ; the same moment, souse came the unsavoury deluge from the tub, full in her face, to the total wreck and destruction of all the unfinished bravery of mournings which lay scattered around ! 1 JJirars. Wrath. " Riulonn. Wrinkled woman. 3 (.'anktry. Cross-grained. Runt means an old cow, and is used contemptuously of an old woman. CHAPTER III The Tank. _L HE awfu'-like thing/' so Miss Mizy ever afterwards spoke of the schoolboys' conspiracy, was attended with the most important conse- quences. The first result was a formal complaint to Mr Tannyhill, to w r hom the indignant plaintiff stated her wrongs with an eloquence to which we cannot do justice, demanding the immediate punishment of the offenders. The master's affec- tionate bosom was deeply afflicted with the ac- count that Miss Mizy gave of " the deevilry," which, in her narrative, certainly suffered no diminution, either in the sins of the perpetration, or in the cunning with which it had been planned. In his way back to the school, he meditated on the sort of punishment which he ought to inflict, for hitherto the rod had been unknown in his discipline ; and he came to the strange conclusion that, as the end of all punishment ought to be the reformation of the delinquent, he would oblige the culprits in this case to apply with more than ordinary assiduity to their tasks, and require them, for the remainder of the summer, to attend 14 SIR ANDREW WYLIE the school two additional hours a day. Some governors might have thought this a punishment to themselves ; but it never occurred to his honest and ingenuous bosom that it was any hardship. On the contrary, he felt it a duty which he was called to perform in order to correct the effects of the evil spirit which had been so audaciously manifested. Accordingly, when the boys as- sembled next day, he called the conspirators before him, and made them mount a form in presence of their companions. " I told you," said he, casting his eyes towards our hero, "that the ill-deedy pyet would bring you into baith scaith J and scorn ; and now ye see my prophecy has come to pass, for there ye stand, five a' in a row, like so many evil-doers as ye surely are, that I ought to make an example of, by let- ting you fin' the weight o' my hand. But it's no my way to chastise with stripes on the body : no, unless the heart is made to feel, a bite o' the taws in the loof, or on the back, will soon heal. In truth, my bairns, I'm wae for you ; for gin ye gang on at this rate, what's to become of you when ye enter the world to mak your bread ? Wha, Wheelie, will hae ony regard for you, if ye gie yoursel up to mischief? Others here hae friens that may guide them, but ye hae only your auld feckless 2 grannie, that wi' mickle hard labour has ettled, 3 with a blessed constancy, to breec| 1 Scaith. Hurt. 2 Feckless. Feeble. 3 Ettled. Endeavoured. THE TASK J5 you up in the fear o' God. O man, it will be a sore return for a' her love and kindness if ye break her heart at last ! 1 speak to you mair than to the rest, because in this matter ye are the most to blame, and stand in the greatest peril." "Weel, weel," cried our hero, half sobbingly, half angrily, " ye need nae fash l me ony mair about it, but tell me at ance what ye're ga'n to do wi' me." The master was so astonished at this interrup- tion that he stepped back, and sat down in his chair for some time, silent. The culprits became all pale, and the rest of the boys stood aghast : so daring a defiance (as it seemed to them) of all authority, could not, it was supposed, but be fol- lowed by some tremendous display of power. Mr Tannyhill, however, read Wylie's character in the expression, and by some happy or bene- volent interpretation of his petulance took the only way with him that could be attended with any benefit.- " I will fash you nae mair," said he, addressing him emphatically, "as ye seem to be contrite for your fault ; but, in order to try whether ye have the right leaven o' repentance in you, I will task you to a task that will do you good for a' the remainder of your days." He then ordered him to get the first fifty psalms by heart, and interdicted him from all play and pastime till he had learned them. From that moment Andrew applied himself to 1 Fash. Trouble vexatiously. 16 SIR ANDREW WYLTE learn the psalms with a perseverance that quite surprised the master, who had hitherto regarded him but as a droll and curious creature. The shortness of the time in which he performed the task was not, however, remarkable, for his memory was not well adapted to literature ; but his singular abstraction from all his playfellows, and the earnestness with which he adhered de- terminately to his task, astonished every one. During the intervals of the school hours, he was seen sitting by himself in the lee of a head- stone in the churchyard, muttering verse after verse from the Psalm-book which he held in his hand. While he was in this situation, Mary Cun- ningham, the sister of Willy, happened to pass, and seeing him said, " What are ye doing there, Wheelie ? " He looked up, but, without answering her question, repeated in a loud monotonous voice, " My heart inditing is Good matter in a song." " O ! hae ye no got your psalms yet ? " ex- claimed Mary, for she had heard from her brother of his particular additional punishment ; and, going up close to him, inquired ho\v many he had learned. " I can say ane-and-forty a' through, Miss Marv, without missing a word." "What a lee that is, Wheelie!" said Mary: THE TASK 17 "naebody could ever say so many psalms straight through." "Will ye hearken me?" said Andrew; and she took the book which he at the same time offered, and, leaning over the headstone behind him, bade him begin. " That man hath perfect blessedness Who walketh not astray," he immediately repeated in one unvaried stream of voice, " But dwelleth in the scorner's chair, And stands in sinner's way." " O, Wheelie, Wheelie ! ye canna say the first verse o' the vera first psalm : a pretty-like story that ye hae gotten aiie-and-forty by heart ! " exclaimed Mary. Reference was, in consequence, made to the book ; and after some further parley, Andrew resumed, and went on as far as the twelfth Psalm without missing a single word, to the delighted surprise of his fair auditor. By this time, however, it was necessary that he should go to school and Mary return home ; but, before parting, she agreed to visit him again at the same place next day to hear the remainder, and she kept her word. Again the book was in her hand, and leaning over the tombstone, witli Andrew sitting below, she listened with un- wearied pleasure to the undeviating and inflex- ible continuance of his monotonous strain, till VOL. i. 11 18 SIR ANDREW WYLIE he had readied the thirty-first Psalm, when the same causes that occasioned the former in- terruption again obliged them to separate, after a renewal of the compact. On the third day, Andrew completed not only the forty-one, but two more that he had learned in the mean- time. Mary confessed her admiration of his wonderful genius, and from thenceforth, till he h;id completed his task, she was his regular visitor. Out of this circumstance a greater degree of intimacy arose between them than is usual among boys and girls of their age. She admired him as a prodigy of talent, and he was pleased when he met her, on account of the interest she had taken in his task. From the attack on her aunt, however, he had been prohibited from approaching " The Place " (as the Craig- land mansion-house was called by the villagers) ; and as she was educated by Miss Mizy herself, preparatory to being in due time sent to an Edinburgh boarding-school, they had few oppor- tunities of meeting. But on Sunday he always took care to stand in the path by which the laird's family crossed the churchyard, and a smile was as regularly exchanged between them in passing. As often, also, as the minister read out to be sung any one of the fifty psalms, Mary would peep over the front of the laird's loft to where Andrew sat beside his grand- mother in the area below ; and on these occa- THE TASK 19 sions she never missed his eye, which seemed to be instinctively turned up in expectation of meeting hers. In this way, the germ of a mutual affection was implanted, before either was awakened by nature to the sense of love and beauty, or informed by the world of the disparity of their condition. They were them- selves unconscious of the tie with which sim- plicity had innocently linked them together ; and being as yet .both free from the impulses of passion, they felt not the impediments which birth and fortune had placed between them. The Craigland family was one of the most ancient in the county. The estate was large ; but by the indolence of the laird it was much neglected, and the rental was in consequence small. The woods, however, were valuable, and the old tacks, or leases, were drawing to a close ; so that, while in a state of comparative penury, it seemed probable that both Cunningham and his sister would .inherit a very ample patrimony. Of this their aunt, Miss Mizy, was fully sensible, and frequently complained to her brother that he should allow his son, with such an inheritance in view, to be brought up among the children of the tenants, But her complaints were long unavail- ing. The laird had been educated in the same school with the fathers of these children, and he could discover nothing in his sister's remon- strances to make him wish to sec his son a 20 SIR ANDREW WYLIE finer gentleman than himself. " The awfu'-like thing/' however, had a more impressive effect than her lectures. It was an exploit of mischief far surpassing all the easy pranks of his soft youth ; and upon the minister, at Miss Mizy's instigation, representing to him the disgrace and dishonour that would ensue to the family if the heir \vas permitted to associate long with such unmeet playmates as the boys of Mr Tannyhill's school, he consented that Willy should be sent from home, and placed at an academy suitable to his rank and prospects. This was done accordingly, and, like other boys that drop aw r ay from among their school- fellows, Cunningham was soon forgotten. CHAPTER IV The Fair. A.FTER Cunningham was removed from Mr Tannyhill's school, a considerable change took place among our hero's playmates. The frater- nity to which the two boys belonged was, in fact, in the course of that summer, broken up, and, for some time, Andrew was without any particular companion. These temporary inter- missions of friendship are, however, common to men as well as to boys ; but the cares of our riper years make us less sensible of the blank left by the removal of a neighbour than the loss we suffered when a school-fellow was taken away. The nickname of Wheelie, in consequence of this change, was gradually forgotten, or, rather, ceased to be any longer in use ; while the strip- ling himself seemed daily in quest of something that he could not find, either on the moorlands or along the hedge-rows and the belts of plant- ing that skirted the hills and farms of the Craig- lands. He was (as his grandmother said) for some time " like a tynt 1 creature ; " and, for 1 Tynt. Lost. 21 22 SIR ANDREW WYLIE lack of other company, often on the road-side fell into discourse with travelling tinklers, blue- gowns, or old soldiers, who had acquired a suffi- cient stock of wounds and scars to set them up in beggary. Poor Andrew, however, had nothing to give them ; nevertheless, it was remarked that they always left him seemingly better pleased than they ever quitted the laird's yett, 1 even when Miss Mizy, after the term-day, allowed an extra neaveful to their wonted weekly almous. 2 In the evenings, Andrew had recourse to the firesides of the gash and knacky carles and carlins 3 of the village. Still, even in their queerest stories he found a deficiency, for he had no friend of his own age to share his remarks afterwards. About Hallowe'en, however, this want was sup- plied. At the distance of a mile from Stoney- holm lay the small estate of Woodside, a mailing, 4 as it was called, with a house somewhat better than the common farm-steadings. The proprietor happened to die, and the lands were rented by his heirs to a neighbouring farmer. The house and garden, being in consequence to let, were taken by a Mrs Pierston, the widow of a Glas- gow merchant, who at the Martinmas term took possession. This matron had but one child, a fine smart 1 Yctt. Gate. 2 N*arcful . . . almous. Handful . . . alms. 3 Gash . . . carlins. Intelligent and shrewd old men and women. 4 Mailing. A farm that is rented. THE FAIR 23 rattling boy of the name of Charles, who was sent to the master's school, where he and Andrew soon became inseparable. The distance of his mother's house from the village occasioned him,, as is usual in such circumstances, to bring his dinner in his pocket at first ; he was afterwards allowed to dine with Andrew an arrangement of some advantage to old Martha , for Mrs Pierston was in good circumstances, and indul- gent to her only. son. Thus commenced one of those attachments which arc formed but at school, and are generally supposed to weather the changes of fortune, and the blasts of adver- sity, better than the friendships of more con- siderate years. The buoyancy of Pierston's spirits gave him a seeming ascendency over Wylie ; but it was soon observed by the neighbours that, in reality, Andrew was the master, and that, by submitting to the pranks and whims of Charles in small affairs, he uniformly obtained the management of things of greater moment, if such language may be applied to the disinterested concerns of schoolboys. Pierston had also, as it might have been supposed from its early effects, another advantage over his rustic companion. He had spent his boyhood in Glasgow, and had been several years at the grammar-school of that city before his mother removed to the Woodside house. He was in consequence, for his time, pretty well accomplished in many tricks. He 24 SIR ANDREW WYLIE stood much less in awe of the municipal digni- taries of the neighbouring towns ; and, accord- ingly, at the different fairs, to which lie constantly induced Andrew to accompany him, he not only kept his part better among the town boys, but even went further than most of them in the frolics customary on such occasions. But although it was said of Charles that he was a perfect devil's limb, he had a generous warmth of heart and a lively good-humour that bespoke a favourable in- terpretation to his worst and wildest stratagems. Many an old apple-woman at the fairs, however, on seeing the gowk and the titling 1 approach, (as the two boys were called), watched their tempting piles of toys and delectables with gleg 2 een, and staff* grasped to repel some pawkie ag- gression ; while, at the same time, the boys were always merrily welcomed, for Charles had plenty of pocket-money, and spent it freely. If, in those excursions to the fairs, Pierston found fun and frolic, Andrew reaped some ex- perience of the world. He soon saw that the money his companion spent was sufficient to set up any old woman with a stand ; and the thought occurred to him that if he could get Charles, on the next fair-day, to give his money to Janet Pirn, a sly and di-oll old lame widow, with whose tales and ballads they had been often enter- tained during the winter, they might be able to i Gowk . . . titling. Cuckoo, and its attendant hedge- sparrow. 2 Glcij. Keen. THE FAIR 25 pay Janet a shilling for her trouble, and make a great deal of money by the speculation. The idea was most delightful ; but Charles justly dreaded that if the existence of the copartnery should become known to the other boys, espe- cially to those belonging to the towns, the con- sequences would be ruinous, as Janet would assuredly be plundered without mercy. This consideration, however, was soon got over by Andrew saying thai if they ke^t their own secret it could never be known. Terms accordingly were proposed to Janet, who readily acceded to them ; and when the Kilwinning fair-day came round, she made her appearance at the corner of the bridge, seated in an arm-chair, dressed in her red cloak and black Sunday bonnet, with a table before her, covered with a cloth secretly borrowed by Charles from his mother's napery-chest, and temptingly adorned with a competent stock of the requisite allurements. The boys themselves also had ac- companied Janet into Irvine to buy them, and they assisted her to set them out to the best advantage. The muscalmonds were declared to be as big as doos' 1 eggs ; the sweeties and corianders were of all sizes and colours, inter- mingled with the smallest and fairest Mistress Nanse ; the rock of Gibraltar was laid forth with all its best veins particularly turned towards the view ; parliament-cakes, and gingerbread watches, 1 Dooa'. Pill-cons'. 26 SIR ANDREW WYLIE richly gilded ; piles of raisins and of figs, gems of sugar-candy, and amber lumps of barley-sugar, constituted this garden of Hesperides, round which a formidable array of idolatries of all descriptions, from ogres with a currant in the forehead instead of an eye, to game-cocks with bits of cinnamon for spurs, were exhibited to the greatest advantage. Such another stand was not in the whole fair. Janet had a great run ; and the two boys, each with a stick in his hand, stood sentinels at the ends of the table. All went on for some time in the most prosperous way. Andrew counted the gains that were flowing in, and Charles enticed customers by the bravado of his eulogium on the articles for sale. But this display of goods, and of the interest which the gowk and the titling had in the concern, excited the envy and jealousy of their less suc- cessful competitors ; and when, about noon, Janet and another carlin adjourned to one of the public- houses to get a bottle of ale to their dinner of bread and cheese, the secret was divulged that she was but an agent and a hireling. We shall not attempt to describe the speed with which the story spread, or the indignation of all the rival sweetie-wives. The juvenile customers, who had dealt with Janet merely because her sweets were the best at the fair, thought themselves cheated, and opened an incessant fire of the small- shot of pips, while a tremendous battery of twenty mouths, every now and then, roared from the THE FAIR 27 adjacent stands. Andrew advised Janet to pack up her things quietly ; but Charles insisted she should not budge a step : they had as good a right to sell things at the fair as any other body, and he was prepared to defend it. The attack continued ; the crowd gathered ; Charles lost his temper, and struck a great heavy lumbering country lout, that was laughing at him, over the fingers. The fellow retaliated. Some of the spectators took part with Charles. A battle- royal ensued, in the midst of which the table was overset, and all its treasures trodden in the mire, amidst the acclamations and the clapping of hands of all the rival dealers. The two boys seeing their golden dream thus dissipated, retired from the scene, and left those who had been involved in their cause to fight the battle out. But they did not retire to be- wail their misfortune : they were more heroic. Charles saw, and indeed felt, that he was no match for the country lad who had thrashed him ; but his ire did not burn the less fiercely. On the contrary, he went with Andrew in quest of some of their school-fellows, to assist in revenging the wrong which he had himself provoked. CHAPTER V Common-Sense. WHEN the two boys had walked up the street and passed through the gate of the masons' lodge into the churchyard without meeting with any of their companions, Andrew halted and said, " Od, Charlie, I'm thinking we had as weel bide as we are : yon's a horned stot, in comparison to us, wha hae but banes o' gristle ; and a solid chap o' his nieve would be as deadly as Coomy the smith's forehammer. Od, I'm no for meddling ony mair wi' the muckle brute." Pierston reprobated the pusillanimity of this prudent sentiment, and became more and more resolute for revenge. "Vera weel/' cried Wylie : "tak your ain gait, and get your een steekit and your nose smash'd, and see what ye'll mak o't. A pretty pirlit 1 ye'll be : me leading you hame, blind and bleeding, wi' a napkin or an auld stocking tied round your head. Eh ! what a skreighing at the sight o' you, Charlie, there will be ! your 1 Pirlit. An expression for a contemptible figure. 28 COMMON-SENSE 29 mother running out and in, clapping her hands for her murder't bairn." " I dinna care though he were to kill me ! " exclaimed Charles ; "if I had but my will o' him beforehand." "Ay, that's sense," said Andrew. "Gin ye could but get your will o' him first ; but the fear is that he may get the will o' us ; and what's to be done then ? " Pierston was a little puzzled with this, and, hesitating, said, after a moment's reflection, " We might watch for him and stane him frae behind the dyke when he's gaun hame in the gloaming." " It's a cowardly thing to waylay a defence- less man. Od, Charlie, I thought ye had mair spunk ! " replied Andrew, in perfect sincerity ; but still only anxious to pacify the resentment of his friend. " Touch my honour touch my life," was a sentiment that Pierston had learned among the youths of his own kidney at the grammar-school of Glasgow ; and the implied unworthiness of taking his enemy unprepared affected him in his most vulnerable feelings. " What am I do, Andrew ? It's a dreadfu' thing to gi'e up my satisfaction. Look at my lug whar the brute struck me : it's birzed l black and blue, deevil's in him ; but I'll gar him rue't." Andrew examined the wounded part, and de- i Birzed. Bruisc