joe at the fair, never either whine or look disappointed, but be sure to wale the bonniest lass in the market, an' lead her to the same party where your saucy dame is. Take her to the top o' the dance, the top o' the table at dinner, an' laugh, an' sing; an' aye between whisper your bonny partner; an' if your ain lass disna happen to be unco weel buckled, it is ten to ane she will find an opportunity of offering you her company afore night. If she look angry or affronted at your attentions to others, you are sure o' her. They are queer creatures the lasses, Wat, an' I rather dread ye haena muckle skill or experience in their bits o' wily gates. For, to tell you the truth, there's naething pleases me sae weel as to see them begin to pout, an' prim their bits o' gabs, an' look sulky out frae the wick o' the ee, an' gar ilka feather an' flower-knot quiver wi' their angry capers. O the dear, sweet jewels! When I see ane o' them in sic a key, I could just take her a' in my arms!" "If you had ever loved as I do, Jock, ye wad hae found little comfort in their offence. For iny part, every disdainfu' word that yon dear, lovely lassie says, goes to my heart like a red-hot spindle. My life is bound up in her favour. It is only in it that I can live, move, or breathe; an' whenever she says a severe or cutting word to me, I feel as if ane o' my members were torn away, and am glad to escape as lang as I am onything ava; for I find, if I war to remain, a few mae siccan sentences wad soon annihilate me." "Osic balderdash! In three months' time I shall take in hand to bring her to your ain terms, if you will take my advice. When I speak o' your ain terms, mind I take it for granted that you will never propose ony that are not strictly honourable." "That you may rely on. I would sooner think of wranging my own flesh an' blood than suffer a thought to waver about my heart to her prejudice. But, O man, speak; for ye are garring a' the blood in my veins rin up to my head, as gin it war a thousand ants running races. " "Weel, Wat, in the first place, I propose to gang down yonder a night by mysel', an' speak baith to her father an' her, to find how the land lies; an' after that we can gang down baith thegether, an' gic her a fair broad side. The deil's in't, if we sanna bring her to reason." Wat scratched his head, and pulled the grass (that was quite blameless in the affair) furiously up by the roots, but made no answer. On being urged to declare his sentiments, he said, "I dinna ken about that way o' ganging down your lane; I wish you maunna stick by the auld fisher's rule, 'Every man for his ain hand.' That I ken weel, that nae man alive can see her, an' speak to her, and no be in love wi her.' "It is a good thing in love affairs, Wat, that there are hardly two in the world wha think the same way." 66 Ay, but this is a particular case, for a' the men in the country think the same gate here, an' rin the same gate to the wooing. It is impossible to win near the house on a Friday night without rinning your head against that of some rival, like twa toops fightin' about a ewe. Na, na, John, this plan o' gangin' down by yoursel' winna do. An' now when I think on't, ye had better no gang down ava, for if we gang down friends, we'll come up enemies, an' that wadna be a very agreeable catastroff." "Now shame fa' me gin ever I heard sic nonsense! To think that a' the warld see wi' your een! Hear ye, Wat.-I wadna gie that snap 0❜ my fingers for her. I never saw her till Sunday last, when I came to your kirk ance errand for that purpose, an* I wadna ken her again gin I war to meet her here come out to the glen wi' your whey-what ails you, fool, that you're dightin' your een?" "Come out to the glen wi' my whey! Ah, man! the words gaed through me like the stang of a bumbee. Come out to the glen wi' my whey! Gude forgie my sin, what is the reason I canna thole that thought? That were a consummation devoutly to be wussed, as the soloquy in the Collection says. I fear I'll never see that blessed an' lovely sight! But, Jock, take my advice; stay at hame, an' gangna near her, gin ye wad enjoy ony peace o' conscience." "Ye ken naething about the women, Wat, an' as little about me. If I gang near her, it will only be to humble her a wee, by mocking at her influence among the young men, an' bringing her to reason, for your sake. Jock the Jewel wadna say wae's me!" for the best lass's frown in a' the kingdom o' Britain. Whatever some them might do for his, that's no his right to say." Jock the Jewel went down in all his might and high experience to put everything to rights between his friend Wat and the bonny Snaw-fleck, as this spink of a mountain damsel was called, for every girl in the whole parish was named after one of the birds of the air; and every man, too, young and old, had his by-name, by which we shall distinguish them all for the present. The Snaw-fleck's father was called Tod-Lowrie, (the fox ;) his eldest daughter, the Eagle; the second, the Sea-maw; and his only son was denominated the Foumart, (polecat ;) from a notable hunt he once had with one of these creatures in the middle of the night, in a strange house; and it was the worst name I ever heard for a young man. Our disconsolate lover was called Window Wat, on account of his bashful nature, and, as they alleged, for hanging always about the windows when he went a-courting, and never venturing in. It was a good while after this first rencounter before the two shepherds met again with that convenience so as to resume their love affairs. But at length an occasion offered, and then- But we must suffer every man to tell his own tale, else the sport will be spoilt. "Weel, Wat, hae ye been ony mair down at Lowrie's Lodge, sin' I saw you ?" "An' if I hae, I hae been little the better o' you. I heard that you were there before me, an' sinsyne too." “Now, Wat, that's mere jealousy an' suspicion, for ye didna see the lass to ken whether I was there or not. I ken ye wad be hingin' about the window-soles as usual, keekin' in, feastin' your een, seein' other woosters beikin' their shins at the ingle, but for a' that durstna venture ben. Come, I dinna like siccan sackless gates as thae. I was down, I'se no deny't, but I gaed to wark in a different manner. cauldrife wark that o' standin' peengin' about windows, man. Come, tell me a' your expedition, an' I'll tell you mine, like friends, ye ken." Unco "Mine's no ill to tell. I gaed down that night after I saw you, e'en though Wednesday be the widower's night; there were more there than I, but I was fear'd ye had got there afore me, VOL. XV. and then, wi' your great skill o' the ways o' women, ye might hae left me nae chance at a'. I was there, but I might as weel hae staid at hame, for there were sae mony o' the out-wale wallietragle kind o' wooers there, like mysel, a' them that canna win forret on a Friday night, that I got the back o' the hallan to keep; but there's ae good thing about the auld Tod's house, they never ditt up their windows. Ane sees aye what's gaun on within doors. They leave a' their actions open to the ee of God an' man, yon family, an' I often think it is nae ill sign o' them. Auld Tod-Lowrie himsel sometimes looks at the window in a kind o' considering mood, as if doubtful that at that moment he is both overheard and overseen; but, or it is lang, he cocks up his bonnet and cracks as crouse as ever, as if he thought again, There's aye ae ee that sees me at a' times, an' a ear that hears me, an' when that's the case, what need I care for a' the birkies o' the land!' I like that open independent way that the family has. But O, they are surely sair harassed wi' wooers. "The wooers are the very joy o' their hearts, excepting the Foumart's; he hates them a' unless they can tell him hunders o' lies about battles, bogles, an' awfu' murders, an' persecutions. An' the leaving o' the windows open too is not without an aim. The Eagle's beginning to weary for a husband; an' if ye'll notice how dink she dresses hersel ilka night, an' jinks away at the muckle wheel as she war spinning for a wager. They hae found out that they are often seen at night yon lasses; and though they hae to work the foulest work of the bit farm a' the day when naebody sees them, at night they are a' dressed up like pet-ewes for a market, an' ilka ane is acting a part. The Eagle is yerkin' on at the wheel, and now and then gi'en a smirk wi' her face to the window. The Snawfleck sits busy in the neuk, as sleek as a kinnen, and the auld clocker fornent her, admirin' an' misca'in' her a' the time. The white Seamaw flees up an' down the house, but an' ben, ae while i' the spense, ane i' the awmrie, an' then to the door wi' a soap-suds. Then the Foumart, he sits knitting his stocking, an' quarrelling wi' the hale tot o' them. The feint a haed he minds but sheer ill nature. If there be a good body i' the house, the auld 2 Q Tod is the ane. He is a gayan honest, downright carle, the Tod.' "It is hardly the nature o' a tod to be sae; an' there's no ae bit o' your description that I gang in wi'! It is a fine, douse family. But O the Snaw-fleck! "If love wad make you a poeter, Wat, I wad say it had wrought miracles. Ony mair about the bonny Snawfleck, eh? I wonder how you can make glowin' love-sangs stan'in' at a cauld window-No the way that, man. Tell me plainly, did ye ever get a word o' the bonny lass ava?" "Hey how me!-I can hardly say that I did; an' yet I hae been three times there sin' I saw you." "An' gat your travel for your pains a' the times?" "No sae bad as that, neither. I had the pleasure o' seeing her, bonny, braw, innocent, an' happy, busy working her mother's wark. I saw her smile at her brother's crabbit words, and I saw the approving glances beam frae the twa auld focks' een. When her father made family-worship, she took her Bible, and followed devoutly wi' her ee the words o' holy writ, as the old man read them; and her voice in singing the psalm was as mellow an' as sweet as the flute playing afar off. Ye may believe me, Jock, when I saw her lift up her lovely face in sweet devotion, I stood on the outside o' the window, an' grat like a bairn. It was mair than my heart could thole; an' gin it warna for shame, I wad gang every night to enjoy the same heavenly vision." "As I'm a Christian man, Wat, I believe love has made a poeter of you. Ye winna believe me, man, that very woman is acting her part. Do you think she didna ken that ye saw her, an' was makin' a' thae fine murgeons to throw glamour in your een, an' gar you trow she was an angel? I managed otherwise; but it is best to tell a' plain out, like friends, ye ken. Weel, down I goes to Lowrie's Lodge, an', like you, keeks in at the window, and the first thing I saw was the auld Tod toving out tobacco-reek like a moorburn. The hale biggin was sae choke fu' e' the vapour, it was like a dark mist, an' I could see naething through it but his ain braid bonnet moving up and down like the tap o' the smith's bellows, at every poogh he gave. At length he handit by the pipe to the auld wife, and the reek soon turned mair moderate. I could then see the lasses a dressed out like dolls, and several young boobies o' hinds, threshers, an' thrum-cutters, sitting gashin' and glowrin' amang them. I shall soon set your backs to the wa', thinks I, if I could get ony possible means o' introduction. It wasna lang till ane offered; out comes a lass wi' a cog o' warm water, an' she gars it a' clash on me. Thanks t'ye for your kindness, my woman,' says I. Ye canna say I hae gi'en ye a cauld reception,' says But wha the widdy are ye standin' like a thief i' the mirk for?' Maybe kenn'd fo'k, gin it war daylight,' quo' I. Ye had better come in by, an' see gin candle-light winua beet the mister," says she. Thanks t'ye,' says I; but I wad rather hae you to come out by, an' try gin stern-light winna do !' Catch me doing that,' cried she, and bounced into the house again. she. 6 "I then laid my lug close to the window, an' heard ane askin' wha that was she was speakin' to? 'I dinna ken him,' quo' she; but I trow I hae gi'en him a mark to ken him by; I hae gi'en him a balsam o' boiling wa ter.' "I wish ye may hae peeled a' the hide aff his shins,' quo' the Foumart, an' he mudged and feugh; haste ye, dame, rin awa out an' lay a plaister o' lime and linseed-oil to the lad's trams,' continued he. "I can tell ye wha it is,' said ane o' the hamlet wooers; it will be Jock the Jewel comed down frae the moors, for I saw him waiting about the chop an' the smiddy till the darkness came on. If ye hae disabled him, lady seabird, the wind will blaw nae mair out o' the west.' "I durstna trust them wi' my charaeter and me in hearing; sae, without mair ado, I gangs bauldly ben.— 'Gude e'en to ye, kimmers a' in a ring,' says I. "Gude-e'en t'ye, honest lad,' quo' the Eagle. 'How does your cauld constitution an' our potatoe-broo sort?' "Thanks t'ye, bonny lass,' says I. 'I hae gotten a right sair skelloch; but I wish I warna woundit nae deeper somewhere else than i' the shinbanes, I might shoot a flyin' erne for a' that's come an' gane yet." "That's weel answered, lad,' quo' the Tod. Keep her down, for she's unco glib o' the gab, especially to strangers.' "You will never touch a feather o' her wing, lad,' quo' she. But if ye could- -I'll say nae mair.' "Na, na, Mistress Eagle, ye soar o'er high for me,' says I. 'I'll bring down nae sky-cleaving harpies to pick the e'en out o' my sheep, an' my ain into the bargain, maybe. I see a bit bonny norlan' bird in the nook here, that I would rather woo to my little hamely nest. The Eagle maun to her eiry; or, as the auld ballant says― Gasp and speel to her yermit riven, Amid the mists an' the rains of heaven.' It is the innocent, thrifty, little Snawfleck that will suit me, wi' the white wings an' the blue body. She's pleased wi' the hardest and hameliest fare; a pickin o' the seeds o' the pipe bent is a feast to her.' "Now, by the faith o' my body, Jewel, that wasna fair. Was that preparing' the way for your friend's suecess?" 66 Naething but sheer banter, man; like friends, ye ken. But ye sall hear. The Snaw-fleck's a braw beast,' said I, 'but the Eagle's a waster and a destroyer.' "She's true to her mate, though,' said the dame; but the tither is a bird o' passage, and mate to the hale flock.' "I was a wee startled at this observe, when I thought of the number of wooers that were rinning after the bonny Snaw-fleck. However, I didna like to yield to the jocular and haughty Eagle; and I added, that I wad take my chance o' the wee Snaw-bird, for though she war ane of a flock, that flock was an honest ane. This pleased them a'; and the auld slee Tod, he spak up an' said, he hadna the pleasure o' being acquaint wi' me, but he hoped he shouldna hae it in his power to say sae again. Only there was ae thing he beggit to remind me o', before I went any farther, and that was, that the law of Padanaram was established in his family, an' he could by no means give a younger daughter in marriage before one that was elder. "I think you will maybe keep them for a gay while, then,' said the Foumart. But if the Sea-gull wad stay at haine, I carena if the rest were at Bamph. She's the only usefu' body I see about the house.' "Haud the tongue o' thee, thou illfa'red, cat's-witted serf,' said the auld wife. I'm sure ony o' them's worth a faggald o' thee. An' that lad, gin I dinna forecast aglee, wad do credit to ony kin.' "He's rather ower weel giftit o' gab,' quo' the menseless thing. That remark threw a damp on my spirits a' the night after, an' I rather lost ground than gained ony mair. The ill-hued weazel-blawn thing of a brother, never missed an opportunity of gieing me a yerk wi' his ill-scrapit tongue, an' the Eagle was aye gieing hints about the virtues o' potatoe-broo-how it improved the voice for singin', an' gae ane a chance o' some advancement in the dominions o' the Grand Turk. I didna ken what she meant, but some o' the rest did, for they leugh as they had been kittled; and the mirth and humour turned outrageous, aye seemingly at my expense. The auld Tod chewed tobacco an' threw his mouth, lookit whiles at ane and whiles at another, an' seemed to enjoy the joke as muckle as ony o' them. As for the bonny Snaw-bird, she never leugh aboon her breath, but sat as mim an' as sleek as a moudie. There were some very pretty smiles an' dimples gawn, but nae gaffawing. She is really a fine lass." "There it goes now! I tauld you how it wad be! I tell you, Jewel, the deil a bit o' this is fair play." "Ane may tell what he thinkslike a friend, ye ken. Weel-to make a lang tale short-I couldna help seeing a' the forenight that she had an ee to me. I couldna help that, ye ken. Gat mony a sweet blink an' smile thrawn o'er the fire to me-couldna help that either, ye ken-never lost that a friend gets. At length a' the douce wooers drew off ane by anesaw it was needless to dispute the point wi' me that night. Ane had to gang hame to supper his horses, another to fodder the kye, and another had to be hame afore his master took the book, else he had to gang supperless to bed. I sat still-needless to lose a good boon for lack o' asking. The potatoes were poured an' champit-naebody bade me bide supper, but I sat still; an' the auld wife she slippit away to the awmrie, an brought a knoll o' butter like ane's nieve, an' slippit that into the potatoe pot hidling ways, but the fine flavour that filled the house soon outed the secret. I drew in my seat wi' the rest, resolved to hae my share o' the cheap, healthfu', and delightfu' meal, an' I maun say that I never enjoyed ane a’ 'my life wi' mair satisfaction. I saw that I had a hearty welcome frae them a' but the Foumart, an' I loot him girn an' snivel as muckle as he liket. Weel, I saw it was turning late, and there was a necessity for proceeding to business, else the books an' the prayers wad be on. Sae I draws to my plaid an' staff, an' I looks round to the lasses; but in the meantime I dropt half a wink to the Snaw-fleck, an' I says, 'Weel, wha o' you bonny lasses sets me the length o' the townhead yett the night?' "The feint a ane o' them,' quo' the Foumart wi' a girn. "The townhead yett the night, honest lad?' quo' the wife. Be my certy, thou's no gaun nae siccan a gate. Dis thou think thou can gang to the muirs the night? Nay, nay, thou shalt take share of a bed wi' our son till it be day, for the night's dark an' the road's eiry." "He needna stay unless he likes,' quo' the Foumart. Let the chap tak his wull, an' gang his gates.' "Haud thy ill-faur'd tongue,' said the wife. I sat down again, an' we grew a' unco silent. At length the Eagle rose an' flew to the door. It wadna do-I wadna follow; sat aye still, and threw another straight wink to the bonny Snaw-fleck, but the shy shirling sat snug in her corner, an' wadna move. At length the Eagle comes gliding in, an' in a moment, or ever I kend what I was doing, claps down a wee table at my left hand, anʼ the big Bible an' psalm-book on't. I never gat sic astound, an' really thought I wad drap down through the floor; an' when I saw the lasses shading their faces wi' their hands, I grew refuse that, we dinna countenance him ony mair.' "That was a yerker! I now fand I was fairly in the mire. For the saul o' me I durstna take the book; for though I had a good deal o' good words, an' blads o' scripture, an' religious rhames, a' by heart, I didna ken how I might gar them compluther. An' as I took this to be a sort o' test to try a wooer's abilities, I could easily see that my hough was fairly i' the sheep crook, an' that what wi' sticking the psalm, bungling the prayer, potatoe-broo an' a' thegither, I was like to come badly off. Sae I says, Goodwife, I'm obliged t'ye for the honour ye hae offered me; an' sae far frae being ashamed o' my Maker's service, I rejoice in it; but I hae mony reasons for declining the honour. In the first place, war I to take the task out o' the goodman's hand, it wad be like the youngest scholar o' the school pretending to teach his master; an' war I to stay here a' night, it wad be principally for the purpose of enjoying his family worship frae his ain lips. But the truth is, an' that's my great reason, I can not stay a' night. I want just ae single word o' this bonny lass, an' then I maun take the road, for I'm far o'er late already.' "I bide by my text, young man,' says the Tod; the law of Padanaram is the law of this house." 666 "An', by the troth o' me, thou❜lt find it nae bad law for thee, honest lad,' said the wife; our eldest will mak the best wife for thee-tak thou my word for that.' "I am thinkin' I wad,' said the Eagle; an' I dinna ken but I might hae taen him too, if it hadna beenan accident.' Here she brak aff, an' a' the house set up a giggle of a laugh, an' the goodman turned his quid an' joined in it. I forced on a good face, an' added, Ah! the Eagle! the Eagle's a deil's bird-she's no for me. I want just a single word wi' this dink chicken; but it isna on my ain account-it is a word frae a friend, anʼ I'm bound in honour to deliver it.' "That is spoken sae like an honest man, an' a disinterested ane,' quo' the Tod, that I winna refuse the boon. Gae your ways ben to our little benend, an' say what ye hae to say, for I dinna suffer my bairns to gang out i' the dark wi' strangers.' |