The Little Minister

by J. M. Barrie

  Chapter Seventeen.

  INTRUSION OF HAGGART INTO THESE PAGES AGAINST THE AUTHOR'S WISH.

  Margaret having heard the doctor say that one may catch cold in theback, had decided instantly to line Gavin's waistcoat with flannel.She was thus engaged, with pins in her mouth and the scissors hidingfrom her every time she wanted them, when Jean, red and flurried,abruptly entered the room.

  "There! I forgot to knock at the door again," Jean exclaimed, pausingcontritely.

  "Never mind. Is it Rob Dow wanting the minister?" asked Margaret, whohad seen Rob pass the manse dyke.

  "Na, he wasna wanting to see the minister."

  "Ah, then, he came to see you, Jean," said Margaret, archly.

  "A widow man!" cried Jean, tossing her head. "But Rob Dow was in nocondition to be friendly wi' onybody the now."

  "Jean, you don't mean that he has been drinking again?"

  "I canna say he was drunk."

  "Then what condition was he in?"

  "He was in a--a swearing condition," Jean answered, guardedly. "Butwhat I want to speir at you is, can I gang down to the Tenements for aminute? I'll run there and back."

  "Certainly you can go, Jean, but you must not run. You are alwaysrunning. Did Dow bring you word that you were wanted in theTenements?"

  "No exactly, but I--I want to consult Tammas Haggart about--aboutsomething."

  "About Dow, I believe, Jean?"

  "Na, but about something he has done. Oh, ma'am, you surely dinnathink I would take a widow man?"

  It was the day after Gavin's meeting with the Egyptian at the Kaims,and here is Jean's real reason for wishing to consult Haggart. Half anhour before she hurried to the parlour she had been at the kitchendoor wondering whether she should spread out her washing in the garretor risk hanging it in the courtyard. She had just decided on thegarret when she saw Rob Dow morosely regarding her from the gateway.

  "Whaur is he?" growled Rob.

  "He's out, but it's no for me to say whaur he is," replied Jean, whoseweakness was to be considered a church official. "No that I ken,"truthfulness compelled her to add, for she had an ambition to beeverything she thought Gavin would like a woman to be.

  Rob seized her wrists viciously and glowered into her face.

  "You're ane o' them," he said.

  "Let me go. Ane o' what?"

  "Ane o' thae limmers called women."

  "Sal," retorted Jean with spirit, "you're ane o' thae brutes calledmen. You're drunk, Rob Dow."

  "In the legs maybe, but no higher. I haud a heap."

  "Drunk again, after all your promises to the minister! And you saidyoursel' that he had pulled you out o' hell by the root."

  "It's himsel' that has flung me back again," Rob said, wildly. "JeanBaxter, what does it mean when a minister carries flowers in hispouch; ay, and takes them out to look at them ilka minute?"

  "How do you ken about the holly?" asked Jean, off her guard.

  "You limmer," said Dow, "you've been in his pouches."

  "It's a lie!" cried the outraged Jean. "I just saw the holly thismorning in a jug on his chimley."

  "Carefully put by? Is it hod on the chimley? Does he stand looking atit? Do you tell me he's fond-like o't?"

  "Mercy me!" Jean exclaimed, beginning to shake; "wha is she, RobDow?"

  "Let me see it first in its jug," Rob answered, slyly, "and syne I maytell you."

  This was not the only time Jean had been asked to show the minister'sbelongings. Snecky Hobart, among others, had tried on Gavin's hat inthe manse kitchen, and felt queer for some time afterwards. Women hadbeen introduced on tiptoe to examine the handle of his umbrella. ButRob had not come to admire. He snatched the holly from Jean's hands,and casting it on the ground pounded it with his heavy boots, crying,"Greet as you like, Jean. That's the end o' his flowers, and if I hadthe tawpie he got them frae I would serve her in the same way."

  "I'll tell him what you've done," said terrified Jean, who had triedto save the berries at the expense of her fingers.

  "Tell him," Dow roared; "and tell him what I said too. Ay, and tellhim I was at the Kaims yestreen. Tell him I'm hunting high and low foran Egyptian woman."

  He flung recklessly out of the courtyard, leaving Jean looking blanklyat the mud that had been holly lately. Not his act of sacrilege wasdistressing her, but his news. Were these berries a love token? HadGod let Rob Dow say they were a gypsy's love token, and not slainhim?

  That Rob spoke of the Egyptian of the riots Jean never doubted. It wasknown that the minister had met this woman in Nanny Webster's house,but was it not also known that he had given her such a talking-to asshe could never come above? Many could repeat the words in which hehad announced to Nanny that his wealthy friends in Glasgow were togive her all she needed. They could also tell how majestic he lookedwhen he turned the Egyptian out of the house. In short, Nanny havingkept her promise of secrecy, the people had been forced to constructthe scene in the mud house for themselves, and it was only their storythat was known to Jean.

  She decided that, so far as the gypsy was concerned, Rob had talkedtrash. He had seen the holly in the minister's hand, and, being indrink, had mixed it up with the gossip about the Egyptian. But thatGavin had preserved the holly because of the donor was as obvious toJean as that the vase in her hand was empty. Who could she be? Nodoubt all the single ladies in Thrums were in love with him, but that,Jean was sure, had not helped them a step forward.

  To think was to Jean a waste of time. Discovering that she had beenthinking, she was dismayed. There were the wet clothes in the basketlooking reproachfully at her. She hastened back to Gavin's room withthe vase, but it too had eyes, and they said, "When the ministermisses his holly he will question you." Now Gavin had already smiledseveral times to Jean, and once he had marked passages for her in her"Pilgrim's Progress," with the result that she prized the marks moreeven than the passages. To lose his good opinion was terrible to her.In her perplexity she decided to consult wise Tammas Haggart, andhence her appeal to Margaret.

  To avoid Chirsty, the humourist's wife, Jean sought Haggart at hisworkshop window, which was so small that an old book sufficed for itsshutter. Haggart, whom she could see distinctly at his loom, soonguessed from her knocks and signs (for he was strangely quick in theuptake) that she wanted him to open the window.

  "I want to speak to you confidentially," Jean said in a low voice. "Ifyou saw a grand man gey fond o' a flower, what would you think?"

  "I would think, Jean," Haggart answered, reflectively, "that he hadgien siller for't; ay, I would wonder----"

  "What would you wonder?"

  "I would wonder how muckle he paid."

  "But if he was a--a minister, and keepit the flower--say it was acommon rose--fond-like on his chimley, what would you think?"

  "I would think it was a black-burning disgrace for a minister to befond o' flowers."

  "I dinna haud wi' that."

  "Jean," said Haggart, "I allow no one to contradict me."

  "It wasna my design. But, Tammas, if a--a minister was fond o' aparticular flower--say a rose--and you destroyed it by an accident,when he wasna looking, what would you do?"

  "I would gie him another rose for't."

  "But if you didna want him to ken you had meddled wi't on his chimley,what would you do?"

  "I would put the new rose on the chimley, and he would never ken thediffer."

  "That's what I'll do," muttered Jean, but she said aloud--

  "But it micht be that particular rose he liked?"

  "Havers, Jean. To a thinking man one rose is identical wi' anotherrose. But how are you speiring?"

  "Just out o' curiosity, and I maun be stepping now. Thank you kindly,Tammas, for your humour."

  "You're welcome," Haggart answered, and closed his window.

  That day Rob Dow spent in misery, but so little were his fearsselfish that he scarcely gave a thought to his conduct at the manse.For an hour he sat at his loom with his arms folded. Then he slouchedout of the
house, cursing little Micah, so that a neighbour cried "Youdrucken scoundrel!" after him. "He may be a wee drunk," said Micah inhis father's defence, "but he's no mortal." Rob wandered to the Kaimsin search of the Egyptian, and returned home no happier. He flunghimself upon his bed and dared Micah to light the lamp. About gloaminghe rose, unable to keep his mouth shut on his thoughts any longer, andstaggered to the Tenements to consult Haggart. He found thehumourist's door ajar, and Wearyworld listening at it. "Out o' theroad!" cried Rob, savagely, and flung the policeman into the gutter.

  "That was ill-dune, Rob Dow," Wearyworld said, picking himself upleisurely.

  "I'm thinking it was weel-dune," snarled Rob.

  "Ay," said Wearyworld, "we needna quarrel about a difference o'opeenion; but, Rob----"

  Dow, however, had already entered the house and slammed the door.

  "Ay, ay," muttered Wearyworld, departing, "you micht hae stood still,Rob, and argued it out wi' me."

  In less than an hour after his conversation with Jean at the window ithad suddenly struck Haggart that the minister she spoke of must be Mr.Dishart. In two hours he had confided his suspicions to Chirsty. Inten minutes she had filled the house with gossips. Rob arrived to findthem in full cry.

  "Ay, Rob," said Chirsty, genially, for gossip levels ranks, "you'rejust in time to hear a query about the minister."

  "Rob," said the Glen Quharity post, from whom I subsequently got thestory, "Mr. Dishart has fallen in--in--what do you call the thing,Chirsty?"

  Birse knew well what the thing was called, but the word is a staggererto say in company.

  "In love," answered Chirsty, boldly.

  "Now we ken what he was doing in the country yestreen," said SneckyHobart, "the which has been bothering us sair."

  "The manse is fu' o' the flowers she sends him," said Tibbie Craik."Jean's at her wits'-end to ken whaur to put them a'."

  "Wha is she?"

  It was Rob Dow who spoke. All saw he had been drinking, or they mighthave wondered at his vehemence. As it was, everybody looked at everyother body, and then everybody sighed.

  "Ay, wha is she?" repeated several.

  "I see you ken nothing about her," said Rob, much relieved; and hethen lapsed into silence.

  "We ken a' about her," said Snecky, "except just wha she is. Ay,that's what we canna bottom. Maybe you could guess, Tammas?"

  "Maybe I could, Sneck," Haggart replied, cautiously; "but on thatpoint I offer no opinion."

  "If she bides on the Kaims road," said Tibbie Craik, "she maun be afarmer's dochter. What say you to Bell Finlay?"

  "Na; she's U. P. But it micht be Loups o' Malcolm's sister. She'spromised to Muckle Haws; but no doubt she would gie him the go-by at aword frae the minister."

  "It's mair likely," said Chirsty, "to be the factor at the Spittal'slassie. The factor has a grand garden, and that would account for suchbasketfuls o' flowers."

  "Whaever she is," said Birse, "I'm thinking he could hae donebetter."

  "I'll be fine pleased wi' ony o' them," said Tibbie, who had a magentasilk, and so was jealous of no one.

  "It hasna been proved," Haggart pointed out, "that the flowers camefrae thae parts. She may be sending them frae Glasgow."

  "I aye understood it was a Glasgow lady," said Snecky. "He'll be likethe Tilliedrum minister that got a lady to send him to the college onthe promise that he would marry her as soon as he got a kirk. She madehim sign a paper."

  "The far-seeing limmer," exclaimed Chirsty. "But if that's what Mr.Dishart has done, how has he kept it so secret?"

  "He wouldna want the women o' the congregation to ken he was promisedtill after they had voted for him."

  "I dinna haud wi' that explanation o't," said Haggart, "but I may tellyou that I ken for sure she's a Glasgow leddy. Lads, ministers is nearaye bespoke afore they're licensed. There's a michty competition forthem in the big toons. Ay, the leddies just stand at the collegegates, as you may say, and snap them up as they come out."

  "And just as well for the ministers, I'se uphaud," said Tibbie, "forit saves them a heap o' persecution when they come to the like o'Thrums. There was Mr. Meiklejohn, the U. P. minister: he was no soonerplaced than every genteel woman in the town was persecuting him. TheMiss Dobies was the maist shameless; they fair hunted him."

  "Ay," said Snecky; "and in the tail o' the day ane o' them snacked himup. Billies, did you ever hear o' a minister being refused?"

  "Never."

  "Weel, then, I have; and by a widow woman too. His name was Samson,and if it had been Tamson she would hae ta'en him. Ay, you may look,but it's true. Her name was Turnbull, and she had another gent afterher, name o' Tibbets. She couldna make up her mind atween them, andfor a while she just keeped them dangling on. Ay, but in the end shetook Tibbets. And what, think you, was her reason? As you ken, thaegrand folk has their initials on their spoons and nichtgowns. Ay,weel, she thocht it would be mair handy to take Tibbets, because ifshe had ta'en the minister the _T's_ would have had to be changed to_S's_. It was thoctfu' o' her."

  "Is Tibbets living?" asked Haggart sharply.

  "No; he's dead."

  "What," asked Haggart, "was the corp to trade?"

  "I dinna ken."

  "I thocht no," said Haggart, triumphantly. "Weel, I warrant he was aminister too. Ay, catch a woman giving up a minister, except foranother minister."

  All were looking on Haggart with admiration, when a voice from thedoor cried--

  "Listen, and I'll tell you a queerer ane than that."

  "Dagont," cried Birse, "it's Wearywarld, and he has been hearkening.Leave him to me."

  When the post returned, the conversation was back at Mr. Dishart.

  "Yes, lathies," Haggart was saying, "daftness about women comes toall, gentle and simple, common and colleged, humourists and nohumourists. You say Mr. Dishart has preached ower muckle at women tostoop to marriage, but that makes no differ. Mony a humorous thing haeI said about women, and yet Chirsty has me. It's the same wi'ministers. A' at aince they see a lassie no' unlike ither lassies,away goes their learning, and they skirl out, 'You dawtie!' That'swhat comes to all."

  "But it hasna come to Mr. Dishart," cried Rob Dow, jumping to hisfeet. He had sought Haggart to tell him all, but now he saw the wisdomof telling nothing. "I'm sick o' your blathers. Instead o' theminister's being sweethearting yesterday, he was just at the Kaimsvisiting the gamekeeper. I met him in the Wast town-end, and gaedthere and back wi' him."

  "That's proof it's a Glasgow leddy," said Snecky.

  "I tell you there's no leddy ava!" swore Rob.

  "Yea, and wha sends the baskets o' flowers, then?"

  "There was only one flower," said Rob, turning to his host.

  "I aye understood," said Haggart heavily, "that there was only oneflower."

  "But though there was just ane," persisted Chirsty, "what we want token is wha gae him it."

  "It was me that gae him it," said Rob; "it was growing on theroadside, and I plucked it and gae it to him."

  The company dwindled away shamefacedly, yet unconvinced; but Haggarthad courage to say slowly--

  "Yes, Rob, I had aye a notion that he got it frae you."

  Meanwhile, Gavin, unaware that talk about him and a woman unknown hadbroken out in Thrums, was gazing, sometimes lovingly and again withscorn, at a little bunch of holly-berries which Jean had gathered fromher father's garden. Once she saw him fling them out of his window,and then she rejoiced. But an hour afterwards she saw him pick themup, and then she mourned. Nevertheless, to her great delight, hepreached his third sermon against Woman on the following Sabbath. Itwas universally acknowledged to be the best of the series. It was alsothe last.