Wee Macgreegor Enlists

by J. J. Bell

  XVIII

  PITY THE POOR PARENTS!

  'It's a peety Macgreegor didna see his intended the nicht,' Mr.Robinson observed when his son, after a couple of hours at theparental hearth, had gone to bed, 'but we canna help trains bein'late.'

  Mrs. Robinson felt that it was perhaps just as well the two youngpeople had not met that night, but refrained from saying so. 'Hoodae ye think Macgreegor's lookin,' John?' she asked after a pause.

  'I didna notice onything wrang wi' him. He hadna a great deal tosay for hissel'; but that's naething new. Queer hoo a noisy,steerin' wean like he was, grows into a quiet, douce young man.'

  'He's maybe no as douce as ye think,' said Lizzie under her breath.

  'What's that?'

  'Naething, John.' She sighed heavily.

  'What's wrang, wife?'

  'I was wishin' we had a niece called Maggie. . . . I suppose it'snae use askin' if ye ever heard o' Macgreegor ha'ein' anacquaintance o' that name.'

  'Maggie? Weel, it's no what ye would call a unique name. Butwhat----'

  'Listen, John. When Christina was here the day, a wee paircel cam'for Macgreegor, an' when I opened it, there was a pair o' sockswi'--wi' fondest love from Maggie.'

  'Hurray for Maggie!

  'But, John, Christina read the words!'

  'Oho!' John guffawed. 'She wudna like that--eh?'

  'Man, what are ye laughin' at? Ye ken Christina's terrible prood.'

  'No ony prooder nor Macgreegor is o' her. Lizzie.'

  'That's no what I meant. Christina wud never put up wi' Macgreegorlookin' at anither lass.'

  'Weemen was born jealous; but it's guid for them.'

  'John Robi'son! ha'e ye the face to tell me ye wud approve o'Macgreegor cairryin' on wi' anither lass when he's engaged toChristina?'

  'Of course I wudna exac'ly approve o' it.' Mr. Robinson scratchedhis head. 'But surely ye're raisin' an awfu' excitement ower apair o' socks.'

  'It wasna the socks, ye stupid: it was the fondest love!'

  John laughed again, but less boisterously,

  'Maggie's no blate, whaever she is. Did ye no speir at Macgreegoraboot her?'

  'Oh, man! ha'e ye nae sense?' I jist tied up the paircel again an'left it on his bed.'

  'Weel, that ends it,' John said comfortably. 'But'--with awink--'let it be a lesson to ye never to tamper wi' yer son'scorrespondence. Ye're pretty sure to find mair nor ye expec'.'

  Mrs. Robinson clasped her hands. 'Oh, dear! hoo can ye joke abootit? What if Christina breaks her engagement.'

  'What?' he cried, suddenly alarmed. 'Break her engagement! Surelyye dinna mean that! Did she say onything? Did she seem offended?Did she----'

  'Never a word--but her look was different. But whatever stupidthing the laddie may ha'e done, his heart's set on Christina. Itwud break his heart if----'

  'This is bad,' said John, all dismayed. 'I didna think it wud bethat serious. But I'll tell ye what I'll dae, Lizzie. I'll gangthe morn and see Christina an' tell her----'

  'What'll ye tell her?'

  'Dear knows! What wud ye say yersel'?'

  'Neither you nor me can say onything. Macgreegor'll ha'e toexplain--if he can.'

  Mr. Robinson groaned, then brightened. 'I yinst had a cousincalled Maggie,' he said; 'unfortunately she's been deid for fifteenyear. Still----'

  'It's time ye was in yer bed, John. Ye canna dae onything, ma man,excep' hope for the best.'

  * * * * *

  At dead of night--

  'Lizzie!'

  Silence.

  '_Lizzie_!'

  'Eh?--what is 't, John?'

  'I was thinkin', wife; I was thinkin' it's no sae bad since hername's Maggie. Ye see, if it had been Henrietta, or Dorothea,or----'

  'Mercy! Are ye talkin' in yer sleep?'

  'I was gaun for to say that a Henrietta an' so forth wud be easiertraced nor a Maggie, Maggies bein' as common as wulks at Dunoon,whereas----'

  'D'ye imagine Christina--oh, dinna be silly, man!'

  'But, Maggie--I mean Lizzie----'

  'Oh, for ony favour gang to sleep an' rest yer brains.'

  * * * * *

  When Macgregor, alone save for the slumbering Jimsie, had openedthe parcel he muttered savagely: 'Oh, dash it! I wish she had kep'her rotten socks to hersel'!'--and stuffed the gift behind thechest of drawers. The message he tore into a hundred fragments.Then he went to bed and slept better, perhaps, than he deserved.He expected there would be a letter in the morning, for Christinahad left no message with his mother.

  But there was no letter, so, after breakfast, he made a trip to thecamp on the chance, and in the hope, that one might be lying there.Another blow! Managing to dodge Willie, he hurried home to meetthe second morning delivery. Nothing again! . . . His mother'sanxious questions as to his health irritated him, and he so farlost his temper as to ask his sister why she was wearing a facelike a fiddle. Poor Jeannie! For half the night she had beenweeping for her hero and wishing the most awful things for theunknown Maggie.

  'Ye'll be back for yer denner, laddie?' his mother called after himas he left the house.

  'I dinna ken,' he replied over his shoulder.

  Mrs. Robinson felt that her worst forebodings were about to berealized.

  'Never again!' she muttered in the presence of her daughter, whowas helping her with the housework.

  'What, mither?'

  'Never again will I open a paircel that's no addressed to me.'

  'But it--it might ha'e been a--a fish,' said Jeannie, who wouldhave sought to comfort the most sinful penitent in the world. 'Somegirls,' she went on, 'dinna mean onything special by "fondestlove." They dinna mean onything mair nor "kind regairds."'

  Mrs. Robinson sighed. 'I wud gi'e something if it had been a fishwi' kind regairds. I wonder what he did wi' the socks.'

  'I got them at the back o' the chest o' drawers. Weel, mither,that proves he doesna care for her.'

  'That's no the p'int, dearie.' Mrs. Robinson paused in her work.'I'm beginnin' to think I should ha'e tell't him aboot the paircelbein' open when Christina was here. It's maybe no fair to let himgang to her----'

  'I'll run efter him,' said Jeannie promptly. 'I'll maybe catch himafore he gets to Miss Tod's shop.'

  'Ay; run, Jeannie; run as quick's ye can!'

  So Jeannie threw off her apron, tidied her hair with a couple oftouches, and flew as though a life depended on her speed.

  And, panting, she came in sight of Miss Tod's shop just intime--just in time to see the beloved kilted figure disappear intothe doorway.