Then came the supper and the songs and the speeches. The tourists who picture us shivering, silent, and depressed all through the winter should have been in the smiddy that night.
I proposed the health of the young couple, and when I called Lizzie by her new name, " Mrs. Fairweather," the sailor flung back his
LIFE IN A COUNTRY MANSE. 159
head and roared with glee till he choked, and Lizzie's first duty as a wife was to hit him hard between the shoulder hlades. When he was sufficiently composed to reply, he rose to his feet and grinned round the room.
" Mrs. Fairweather," he cried in an ecstasy of delight and again choked.
The smith induced him to make another at- tempt, and this time he got as far as " Ladies and gentlemen, me and my wife " when the speech ended prematurely in resounding chuckles. The last we saw of him, when the carriage drove away, he was still grinning ; but that, as he explained, was because " he had got Lizzie at last." " You'll be a good husband to her, I hope," I said.
" Will I not ! " he cried, and his arm went round his wife again.
DUE DEUCHARS.
WONDERFUL is the variety of pleasures in Thrums. One has no sooner unyoked from his loom than something- exhilarating happens. In the same hour I have known a barn go on fire in the Marywellbrae, a merriment caravan stick on the Brig of the Kelpies, and a lord dine in the Quharity Arms parlor, the view of which is commanded from the top of Hookey Crewe's dyke. To see everything worth seeing is impossible, simply because the days are not thirty-six hours long. Most of us, however, see our fill, Dite Deuchars being the strange exception.
A bad boy had flung a good boy's bonnet on to Haggart's roof, and we had gone for it with a ladder. We were now sitting up there,
DITE DEUCHARS. 161
to see what it was like. Conversation had languished, but Haggart said " Ay," and then again " Umpha," as one may shove a piece of paper into a dying fire to make a momentary blaze. In the yard the boys were now map- ping out the " Pilgrim's Progress " with kail- runts. Women were sitting on dykes, knit- ting stockings. Snecky Hobart was pitting his potatoes. We could join him presently if Haggart refused to add to our stock of infor- mation ; but the humorist was sucking in his lips, and then blowing them out and we knew what that meant. To look at his mouth re- hearsing was to be suddenly hungry. We had planted ourselves more firmly on the roof when
" Wha's killing ? " cried Lunan.
The screech and skirl of a pig under the knife had suddenly shaken Thrums.
" Lookaboutyou's killing," cried Dite turning hastily to the ladder.
There followed a rush of feet along the Tenements. Snecky Hobart flung down his spade, the two laddies plucked up the Slough of Despond, and were off before him. The
women fell off the dykes as if shot. 11
162 DITE DEUCHARS.
" You're coming, Tammas, surely ? " said Dite, already on the ladder.
" Not me/' answered Haggart. " If Look- aboutyou likes to kill without telling me afore- hand, I dinna gang near him."
" Come awa', Davit," said Dite to Lunan.
"I dinna deny," said Lunan, "but what my feet's tickly to start ; but this I will say, that it was as little as Lookaboutyou could have done to tell Tammas Haggart he was kill- ing."
" But Tammas hadna speired ? "
" Speir ! " cried Haggart. " Let me tell you, Dite Deuchars, a humorist doesna speir ; he just answers. But awa' wi' you to the farm ; and tell Lookaboutyou that if he thinks I'm angered at his no telling me he was killing, he was never mair mista'en."
" I wouldna leave you," said Dite, " if you had been on your adventures, but you're no, and I'm so unlucky, I hardly ever see ony on- common thing."
" On my adventures I'll be in a minute, for the screaming o' that swine calls to my mind an extraordinar' meeting I had wi' a coachf u' o' pirates."
DITE DEUCHARS. 163
" Sal, I would like to hear that/' said Dite, stepping on to the roof again.
The squeals of the pig broke out afresh.
" That's mair than I can stand," cried Dite sliding down the ladder. He ran a few yards, and then turned back undecidedly.
" Is it a partickler wonderful adventure, Tammas ? " we heard him cry, though we could not see him.
Haggart put his underlip firmly over the upper one.
" You micht tell me, Tammas," cried the voice.
It was not for us to speak, and Haggart would not.
" I canna make up my mind," Dite continued, sadly, " whether to bide wi' you, or to gang to the killing. If I dinna gang, I'm sure to wish I had ga'en ; and if I gang, I'll think the hale time about what I'm missing."
We heard him sigh, and then the clatter of his heels.
"He's a lang time, though," saidLunan, "in turning the close. We should see him when he gets that length."
" The onlucky crittur '11 be wavering in the
164 DITE DEUCHAR8.
close," said Haggart, "no able to make up his mind whether to gang on or turn back. I tell you, lads, to have twa minds is as confusing as twins."
We saw Dite reach the mouth of the close, where he stopped and looked longingly at us. Then he ran on, then he stopped again, then he turned back.
"He's coming back, after all," said Lunan.
" Ou, he'll be off again directly," Haggart said, with acumen, as we discoursed the next minute. " Ay, the body's as ondecided as a bairn standing wi' a bawbee in its hand, looking in at the window o' a sweetie shop."
We saw Dite take the backwynd like one who had at last forgotten our counter- attractions, but just as he was finally dis- appearing from view he ran into a group of women.
" Tod, he's coming back again," said Lunan, breaking into the middle of Haggart's story. " No wonder the crittur's onlucky ! "
Dite, however, only came back a little way. He then climbed the glebe dyke, and hurried off up the park.
DITE DEUCHARS. 165
" He's fair demented," said Lunan, " for that's as little the road to Lookaboutyou's as it's the road to the tap o' this hoose."
The women sauntered nearer, and when they were within earshot Haggart stopped his nar- rative to shout
" Susie Linn, what made Dite Deuchars take the glebe park?"
"He's awa' to see Easie Pennycuick's new crutches," replied Susie. " The pridefu' stock has got a pair that cost twal and saxpence (so she says), and she's inviting a' body in to see them."
" The wy she's lifted up about these crutches," broke in Haggart's wife, Chirsty, from her win- dow, " is hard to bear ; and I ken I'll no gang to look at them. 'Have you seen my new crutches ? ' she says, as soon as her een lichts on you."
"That's true, Chirsty, and she came in the kirk late wi' them last Sabbath of set purpose. Weel, we telt Dite about them in the backwynd,
and he's awa' to see them. He said If
that's no him coming back ! "
Dite had turned, and was hastening down the field.
166 DITE DEUCHARS.
" He's changed his mind again," said Lunan. " He's off to the killing, after all."
" Hoy, Dite Deuchars," shouted Susie Linn.
Dite hesitated, looking first in the direction of Lookaboutyou's, and then at us.
" He's coming here," said one of the women.
" He's halted," said another.
" He's awa' to the killing at Lookaboutyou's/' cried Susie Linn.
" As sure as death he's climbing into the glebe park again," said Lunan. " Oh, the dnlucky body ! "
" We maun turn our backs to the distracted crittur," said Haggart, " or I'll never finish my adventure."
It was a marvelous adventure, with as many morals as Dite had minds ; and when we had talked it over, as well as listened to it, we pre- pared to descend the ladder.
" Ca' canny," cried Haggart, " there's some- body coming up."
Dite Deuchars, flushed with running, appeared at the top of the ladder.
" Was it a big swine ? " asked Lunan.
" I didna g
ang to the killing. I heard that Easie Penny cuick "
DITE DEUCHARS. 167
t( Ay, and what thocht you of her crutches ? "
" Truth to tell, Davit, I didna see them, for I couldna make up my mind whether to gang to Easie's or to Lookaboutyou's. They were both so enticing that in the tail o' the day I sat down on the glebe dyke, despising mysel' michty."
66 And a despiseable figure you maun have been."
" Ay, but I've come back to hear your ad- venture, Tammas."
" The adventure's finished," replied Haggart, " and we're coming down."
Dite tottered off the ladder.
" Dagont ! " he cried.
" Let this be a warning to you," said Hag- gart, " that them that's greedy for a' thing gets naething."
Dite, however, was looking so mournful that the very bucket on which he sat down might have been sorry for him.
" Dinna tell me I'm an ill-gittit man," he said, dejectedly, " for I'm no. A'thing 's agin me. I'm keener to see curious oncommon things than ony ane o' ye, but do I see them ? The day the doctor's shalt flung him in the school-
168 DITE DEUCHARS.
wynd, whaur was I ? Oh, wi' my usual luck, of course, I had gone round by the banker's close. On the hill, market day, I sat in the quarry for an hour, and naething happened. Syne I taks a dander through the wood, and no suner am I out o' sicht than a ga'en-about body flings himsel' ower the quarry. Jeames McQuhatty and Pete Dundas saw him, though they hadna been there a quarter as lang as me. Sax month on end I'm as reg'lar at the kirk as if I got my living out o' the minister, and nae- thing wonderful occurs ; but one single Sabbath I taks to my bed, and behold ! in the afternoon the minister swounds dead awa' in the pulpit. When the show took fire in the square, was I there ? Na, na, you may be sure I had been sent out o' the wy to the fishing. Did I see Sam'l Eobb fall off his hoose ? Not me, though we had been neighbors for a twalmonth. What was the name o' the only man in the east town end that sleepit through the nicht o' the Weavers' Riot and never woke up till it was a' ower ? The name o' that man was Dite Deuchars."
"Lad, lad, you're onlucky; but I didna ken you had brooded on't like this."
LITE DEUCIIAR8. 169
" I've brooded on't till I'm a gey queer character. Tammas Haggart, let me speir this at you. Afore you met the pirate coach, did you or did you no come to a cross-road ? "
" Man, Dite, I mind I did ; but how did you ken ? "
" Ken ! I guessed it. I tell you, if I had been in your place, as sure as luck's agin me, I would ha'e ta'en the other road, and never fallen in wi' the pirates ava. That's what it is to be an onlucky man. Tammas Hag- gart-
"Ay, Dite?"
" There's few things you dinna see humor in, but I think I ken one that beats you."
"Namely, yoursel', Dite ? "
"Namely, mysel'."
" No, Dite," Haggart said, thoughtfully, " I admit I see no humor in you. Ay, you're a melancholy case. You had better gang awa' to your bed."
" Sic an onlucky man as me," replied Dite, doggedly, " doesna deserve a bed. I'm ga'en to sit for an hour on this bucket and sneer at mysel'."
THE MINISTER'S GOWN.
ON the morning after a probationer has been chosen minister of a church, his landlady in- timates through the key-hole of his bedroom that a gentleman has called " about the gown." The gentleman is from a firm that supplies gowns, and he has arrived early to forestall the representative of another firm. About the same time, two ladies (in black jackets) begin to collect from the other ladies of the congre- gation the money which is to pay for the gown, and by and by it is presented to the chosen of the people at a soiree. Such is the natural history of the minister's gown.
But congregations there be (" by steamer to Inverary, thence hire ") that love not gowns, and it was one of these that " called " Findlater, M.A., a short year ago. Never until this had
THE MINISTER'S OOWN. 171
there been a gown in their pulpit, nor did the Session think that innovations should come with Findlater. The ladies of the congregation, however (of whom one had a sealskin coat, and therefore was not to be slighted), "gathered" a gown, and Findlater swore to wear it : and worn it he has every Sunday since, except when it is not there to wear. For the whereabouts of that gown is only known at irregular intervals to many persons at a time. Now it is in the lawful owner's possession, and again in the hands of the enemy that is, of the Session who scruple not to make off with it of a Satur- day night and restore it to the vestry on Mon- day morning.
Lest it be concluded that the gown has bred ill-feeling between the pastor and his people, let me say at once that this is not so. It has been admitted by all (though neither in writing nor in spoken words) that, gown or no gown, Findlater is the man for them. True, a maiden who subscribed has been asked to return a ring by a gentleman who, though not a deacon, has already the walk of one ; but this she refused to do on the ground that men are hard to get ; and thus a tragedy was averted. Again, though
172 TEE MINISTER'S GOWN.
the opposition is, undeniably, led by the pillars of the Kirk, the gown was presented by her of the sealskin, who was educated at an Edinburgh boarding-school where only Free Church plants are received ; and thus must her actions be right and proper. It is, then, with a chastened ex- ultation that the Session see the minister fail to find his gown ; while on those occasions when he unexpectedly appears in it (they think- ing it to be at that moment hidden in the smiddy), they good-naturedly overlook the tri- umph with which he gives out his first psalm.
How often the gown has disappeared and been returned or captured I cannot tell. Only occasionally am I in the place for a week-end, and then can no one assure me for certain whether or no we are to have a gown Sunday. At first the gown was kept in the vestry, where it hung on a nail so temptingly that a garden- rake entered by the window and abducted it. That was on a Saturday evening, and service on the following day began some twenty min- utes late. The gown was on its nail by Mon- day at 10 A. M., and locked away in the vestry- press at 11 A. M. ; and for some weeks the min- ister triumphed. Then again had he to preach
THE MINISTER'S GOWN. 173
without his gown in the forenoon. Between services it was discovered lurking behind a tombstone. Some say that he had left the key in the press : others that, whether locked or not, the press opens if shaken by those who have the knack of it. But those supposed to have the knack of it say nothing, and equally reticent is Findlater, save in the presence of Kirsteen, his housekeeper, who can goad any man to language.
Latterly Findlater has kept the gown in the manse, from which he now walks to church in it. Even from the manse has it been removed by daring hands, despite (as the minister once thought) Kirsteen' s unwearying guard over it, but (as he now holds) with the connivance of that double woman. There was a time when Kirsteen was allowed to take the gown to the kitchen, there to renew the seams at the arm- pit, which give way when Findlater is pro- nouncing the benediction ; but then had the gown a habit of running off through the shrub- bery the moment her back was turned. Hence the new regulation that, when the gown re- quires mending, it is mended in the minister's presence.
174 THE MINISTER'S GOWN.
The lady in the sealskin (which the envious call plush, though they sit immediately behind her, and have felt it with their fingers, when pretending to be merely laying their Bible on the " board ") considers Findlater's silence in the face of such persecution singularly beauti- ful ; and so it is, unless Kirsteen's stories be true of the way he opens out on the subject to her. Only once in public has the gown led to his forgetting himself : and then the circum- stances were trying. The manse garden and the church were only the breadth of a burn and a high-road apart, and the minister has to jump the burn. I have seen him do so often, and always first with a look round to apologize for the undignified nature of the act. Such, I am sure, is his meaning ; but there are those who maintain that he only looks about him to make sure that no one is in the vicinity with
designs on the gown. On the occasion in question, just as he was on the point of jumping, it seemed to him that an impious hand had tried to pluck the gown off him. His assailant was in reality but the branch of a tree dipping sud- denly in the wind till it touched his shoulder; but before Findlater realized this he clutched
THE MINISTER'S GOWN. 175
his gown with both hands and said some- thing.
I called at the manse to-day and found Find- later in his study, busy at his sermon. He was sitting on the gown.
THE CAPTAIN OF THE SCHOOL
WHEN Peterkin, who is twelve, wrote to us that there was a possibility (" but don't count on it," he said) of his bringing the captain of the school home with him for a holiday, we had little conception what it meant. The captain we only knew by report as the " man " who lifted leg-balls over the pavilion and was said to have made a joke to the head-master's wife. By and by we understood the distinction that was to be conferred on us. Peterkin instructed his mother to send the captain a formal invita- tion addressed " J. Rawlins, Esq." This was done, but in such a way that Peterkin feared we might lose our distinguished visitor. " You shouldn't have asked him for all the holidays," Peterkin wrote, " as he has promised a heap of
fellows." Then came a condescending note 12
178 THE CAPTAIN OF THE SCHOOL.
from the captain, saying that if he could manage it he would give us a few days. In this letter he referred to Peterldn as his young friend. Peterkin wrote shortly afterwards asking his sister Grizel to send him her photograph. " If you haven't one/' he added, " what is the color of your eyes ? " Grizel is eighteen, which is also, I believe, the age of J. Rawlins. We concluded that the captain had been sounding Peterkin about the attractions that our home could offer him ; but Grizel neither sent her brother a photograph nor any account of her personal appearance. " It doesn't matter," Peterkin wrote back ; " I told him you were dark." Grizel is rather fair, but Peterkin had not noticed that.
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