by J. M. Barrie
CHAPTER XXXVI
OF FOUR MINISTERS WHO AFTERWARDS BOASTED THAT THEY HAD KNOWN TOMMYSANDYS
Bursary examination time had come, and to the siege of Aberdeen marcheda hungry half-dozen--three of them from Thrums, two from the Glenuharityschool. The sixth was Tod Lindertis, a ploughman from the Dubb ofProsen, his place of study the bothy after lousing time (Do you hear theklink of quoits?) or a one-roomed house near it, his tutor a doggedlittle woman, who knew not the accusative from the dative, but nevertired of holding the book while Tod recited. Him someone greets with thegood-natured jeer, "It's your fourth try, is it no, Tod?" and he answerscheerily, "It is, my lathie, and I'll keep kick, kick, kicking away tothe _n_th time."
"Which means till the door flies open," says the dogged little woman,who is the gallant Tod's no less gallant wife, and already the mother oftwo. I hope Tod will succeed this time.
The competitors, who were to travel part of the way on their shanks, metsoon after daybreak in Cathro's yard, where a little crowd awaited them,parents trying to look humble, Mr. Duthie and Ramsay Cameron thinkingof the morning when they set off on the same errand--but the resultswere different, and Mr. Duthie is now a minister, and Ramsay is in themiddle of another wob. Both dominies were present, hating each other,for that day only, up to the mouth, where their icy politeness was athing to shudder at, and each was drilling his detachment to the lastmoment, but by different methods; for while Mr. Cathro entreated JoeMeldrum for God's sake to mind that about the genitive, and WillieSimpson to keep his mouth shut and drink even water sparingly, Mr.Ogilvy cracked jokes with Gav Dishart and explained them to LauchlanMcLauchlan. "Think of anything now but what is before you," was Mr.Ogilvy's advice. "Think of nothing else," roared Mr. Cathro. But thoughMr. Ogilvy seemed outwardly calm it was base pretence; his dickiegradually wriggled through the opening of his waistcoat, as if bearing aprotest from his inward parts, and he let it hang crumpled andconspicuous, while Grizel, on the outskirts of the crowd, yearned to putit right.
Grizel was not there, she told several people, including herself, to saygood-by to Tommy, and oh, how she scorned Elspeth, for looking as iflife would not be endurable without him. Knowing what Elspeth was, Tommyhad decided that she should not accompany him to the yard (of course shewas to follow him to Aberdeen if he distinguished himself--Mr. McLeanhad promised to bring her), but she told him of her dream that he headedthe bursary list, and as this dream coincided with some dreams of hisown, though not with all, it seemed to give her such fortitude that helet her come. An expressionless face was Tommy's, so that not even theexperienced dominie of Glenquharity, covertly scanning his rival's lot,could tell whether he was gloomy or uplifted; he did not seem to be inneed of a long sleep like Willie Simpson, nor were his eyes glazed likeGav Dishart's, who carried all the problems of Euclid before him on aninvisible blackboard and dared not even wink lest he displaced them, nordid he, like Tod Lindertis, answer questions about his money pocket orwhere he had stowed his bread and cheese with
"After envy, spare, obey,The dative put, remember, pray."
Mr. Ogilvy noticed that Cathro tapped his forehead doubtfully every timehis eyes fell on Tommy, but otherwise shunned him, and he asked "Whatare his chances?"
"That's the laddie," replied Mr. Cathro, "who, when you took herladyship to see Corp Shiach years ago impersona--"
"I know," Mr. Ogilvy interrupted him hastily, "but how will he stand,think you?"
Mr. Cathro coughed. "We'll see," he said guardedly.
Nevertheless Tommy was not to get round the corner without betraying alittle of himself, for Elspeth having borne up magnificently when heshook hands, screamed at the tragedy of his back and fell into the armsof Tod's wife, whereupon Tommy first tried to brazen it out and thenkissed her in the presence of a score of witnesses, including Grizel,who stamped her foot, though what right had she to be so angry? "I'msure," Elspeth sobbed, "that the professor would let me sit beside you;I would just hunker on the floor and hold your foot and no say a word."Tommy gave Tod's wife an imploring look, and she managed to comfortElspeth with predictions of his coming triumph and the reunion tofollow. Grateful Elspeth in return asked Tommy to help Tod when theprofessors were not looking, and he promised, after which she had nomore fear for Tod.
And now, ye drums that we all carry in our breasts, beat your best overthe bravest sight ever seen in a small Scotch town of an autumn morning,the departure of its fighting lads for the lists at Aberdeen. Let thetune be the sweet familiar one you found somewhere in the Bible longago, "The mothers we leave behind us"--leave behind us on their knees.May it dirl through your bones, brave boys, to the end, as you hope notto be damned. And now, quick march.
A week has elapsed, and now--there is no call for music now, for theseare but the vanquished crawling back, Joe Meldrum and--and another. No,it is not Tod, he stays on in Aberdeen, for he is a twelve-pound tenner.The two were within a mile of Thrums at three o'clock, but after thatthey lagged, waiting for the gloaming, when they stole to their homes,ducking as they passed windows without the blinds down. Elspeth ran toTommy when he appeared in the doorway, and then she got quickly betweenhim and Aaron. The warper was sitting by the fire at his evening meal,and he gave the wanderer a long steady look, then without a wordreturned to his porridge and porter. It was a less hearty welcome homeeven than Joe's; his mother was among those who had wept to lose herson, but when he came back to her she gave him a whack on the head withthe thieval.
Aaron asked not a question about those days in Aberdeen, but he heard alittle about them from Elspeth. Tommy had not excused himself toElspeth, he had let her do as she liked with his head (this was a greattreat to her), and while it lay pressed against hers, she made remarksabout Aberdeen professors which it would have done them good to hear.These she repeated to Aaron, who was about to answer roughly, and thensuddenly put her on his knee instead.
"They didna ask the right questions," she told him, and when the warperasked if Tommy had said so, she declared that he had refused to say aword against them, which seemed to her to cover him with glory. "But hedoubted they would make that mistake afore he started, she saidbrightly, so you see he saw through them afore ever he set eyes onthem."
Corp would have replied admiringly to this "Oh, the little deevil!"(when he heard of Tommy's failure he wanted to fight Gav Dishart andWillie Simpson), but Aaron was another kind of confidant, and even whenshe explained on Tommy's authority that there are two kinds ofcleverness, the kind you learn from books and a kind that is insideyourself, which latter was Tommy's kind, he only replied,
"He can take it wi' him to the herding, then, and see if it'll keep thecattle frae stravaiging."
"It's no that kind of cleverness either," said Elspeth, quaking, andquaked also Tommy, who had gone to the garret, to listen through thefloor.
"No? I would like to ken what use his cleverness can be put to, then,"said Aaron, and Elspeth answered nothing, and Tommy only sighed, forthat indeed was the problem. But though to these three and to Cathro,and to Mr. and Mrs. McLean and to others more mildly interested, itseemed a problem beyond solution, there was one in Thrums who rocked herarms at their denseness, a girl growing so long in the legs that twicewithin the last year she had found it necessary to let down herparramatty frock. As soon as she heard that Tommy had come homevanquished, she put on the quaint blue bonnet with the white strings,in which she fondly believed she looked ever so old (her period ofmourning was at an end, but she still wore her black dress) andforgetting all except that he was unhappy, she ran to a certain littlehouse to comfort him. But she did not go in, for through the window shesaw Elspeth petting him, and that somehow annoyed her. In the evening,however, she called on Mr. Cathro.
Perhaps you want to know why she, who at last saw Sentimental Tommy inhis true light and spurned him accordingly, now exerted herself in hisbehalf instead of going on with the papering of the surgery. Well, thatwas the reason. She had put the question to herself before--not, indeed,before going to Monypen
ny but before calling on the Dominie--and decidedthat she wanted to send Tommy to college, because she disliked him somuch that she could not endure the prospect of his remaining in Thrums.Now, are you satisfied?
She could scarcely take time to say good-evening to Mr. Cathro beforetelling him the object of her visit. "The letters Tommy has been writingfor people are very clever, are they not?" she began.
"You've heard of them, have you?"
"Everybody has heard of them," she said injudiciously, and he groanedand asked if she had come to tell him this. But he admitted theircleverness, whereupon she asked, "Well, if he is clever at writingletters, would he not be clever at writing an essay?"
"I wager my head against a snuff mull that he would be, but what are youdriving at?"
"I was wondering whether he could not win the prize I heard Dr. McQueenspeaking about, the--is it not called the Hugh Blackadder?"
"My head against a buckie that he could! Sit down, Grizel, I see whatyou mean now. Ay, but the pity is he's not eligible for the HughBlackadder. Oh, that he was, oh, that he was! It would make Ogilvy ofGlenquharity sing small at last! His loons have carried the Blackadderfor the last seven years without a break. The Hugh BlackadderMortification, the bequest is called, and, 'deed, it has been a soremortification to me!"
Calming down, he told her the story of the bequest. Hugh Blackadder wasa Thrums man who made a fortune in America, and bequeathed the interestof three hundred pounds of it to be competed for yearly by the youth ofhis native place. He had grown fond of Thrums and all its ways overthere, and left directions that the prize should be given for the bestessay in the Scots tongue, the ministers of the town and glens to be thejudges, the competitors to be boys who were going to college, but hadnot without it the wherewithal to support themselves. The ministers tookthis to mean that those who carried small bursaries were eligible, andindeed it had usually gone to a bursar.
"Sentimental Tommy would not have been able to compete if he had got abursary," Mr. Cathro explained, "because however small it was Mr. McLeanmeant to double it; and he can't compete without it, for McLean refusesto help him now (he was here an hour since, saying the laddie wasobviously hopeless), so I never thought of entering Tommy for theBlackadder. No, it will go to Ogilvy's Lauchlan McLauchlan, who is atwelve-pounder, and, as there can be no competitors, he'll get itwithout the trouble of coming back to write the essay."
"But suppose Mr. McLean were willing to do what he promised if Tommy wonthe Blackadder?"
"It's useless to appeal to McLean. He's hard set against the laddie nowand washes his hands of him, saying that Aaron Latta is right after all.He may soften, and get Tommy into a trade to save him from the herding,but send him to college he won't, and indeed he's right, the laddie'sa fool."
"Not at writing let--"
"And what is the effect of his letter-writing, but to make meridiculous? Me! I wonder you can expect me to move a finger for him, hehas been my torment ever since his inscrutable face appeared at mydoor."
"Never mind him," said Grizel, cunningly. "But think what a triumph itwould be to you if your boy beat Mr. Ogilvy's."
The Dominie rose in his excitement and slammed the table, "My certie,lassie, but it would!" he cried, "Ogilvy looks on the Blackadder as hisperquisite, and he's surer of it than ever this year. And there's nodoubt but Tommy would carry it. My head to a buckie preen he would carryit, and then, oh, for a sight of Ogilvy's face, oh, for--" He broke offabruptly. "But what's the good of thinking of it?" he said, dolefully,"Mr. McLean's a firm man when he makes up his mind."
Nevertheless, though McLean, who had a Scotchman's faith in the verdictof professors, and had been bitterly disappointed by Tommy's failure,refused to be converted by the Dominie's entreaties, he yielded to themwhen they were voiced by Ailie (brought into the plot _vice_ Grizelretired), and Elspeth got round Aaron, and so it came about that withhis usual luck, Tommy was given another chance, present at thecompetition, which took place in the Thrums school, the Rev. Mr. Duthie,the Rev. Mr. Dishart, the Rev. Mr. Gloag of Noran Side, the Rev. Mr.Lorrimer of Glenquharity (these on hair-bottomed chairs), and Mr. Cathroand Mr. Ogilvy (cane); present also to a less extent (that is to say,their faces at the windows), Corp and others, who applauded the localchampion when he entered and derided McLauchlan. The subject of theessay was changed yearly, this time "A Day in Church" was announced,and immediately Lauchlan McLauchlan, who had not missed a service sincehis scarlet fever year (and too few then), smote his red head in agony,while Tommy, who had missed as many as possible, looked calmlyconfident. For two hours the competitors were put into a small roomcommunicating with the larger one, and Tommy began at once with aconfident smirk that presently gave way to a most holy expression; whileLauchlan gaped at him and at last got started also, but had to pauseoccasionally to rub his face on his sleeve, for like Corp he was one ofthe kind who cannot think without perspiring. In the large room theministers gossiped about eternal punishment, and of the two dominies onesat at his ease, like a passenger who knows that the coach will reachthe goal without any exertion on his part, while the other paced thefloor, with many a despondent glance through the open door whence thescraping proceeded; and the one was pleasantly cool; and the other in aplot of heat; and the one made genial remarks about every-day matters,and the answers of the other stood on their heads. It was a familiarcomedy to Mr. Ogilvy, hardly a variation on what had happened five timesin six for many years: the same scene, the same scraping in the littleroom, the same background of ministers (black-aviced Mr. Lorrimer hadbegun to bark again), the same dominies; everything was as it had sooften been, except that he and Cathro had changed places; it was Cathrowho sat smiling now and Mr. Ogilvy who dolefully paced the floor.
To be able to write! Throughout Mr. Ogilvy's life, save when he wasabout one and twenty, this had seemed the great thing, and he everapproached the thought reverently, as if it were a maid of more thanmortal purity. And it is, and because he knew this she let him see herface, which shall ever be hidden from those who look not for the soul,and to help him nearer to her came assistance in strange guise, the lossof loved ones, dolour unutterable; but still she was beyond his reach.Night by night, when the only light in the glen was the school-houselamp, of use at least as a landmark to solitary travellers--who miss itnowadays, for it burns no more--she hovered over him, nor did she deridehis hopeless efforts, but rather, as she saw him go from black to grayand from gray to white in her service, were her luminous eyes sorrowfulbecause she was not for him, and she bent impulsively toward him, sothat once or twice in a long life he touched her fingers, and a heavenlyspark was lit, for he had risen higher than himself, and that isliterature.
He knew that oblivion was at hand, ready to sweep away his pages almostas soon as they were filled (Do we not all hear her besom when we pauseto dip?), but he had done his best and he had a sense of humor, andperhaps some day would come a pupil of whom he could make what he hadfailed to make of himself. That prodigy never did come, though it wasnot for want of nursing, and there came at least, in succession mostmaddening to Mr. Cathro, a row of youths who could be trained to carrythe Hugh Blackadder. Mr. Ogilvy's many triumphs in this competition hadnot dulled his appetite for more, and depressed he was at the prospectof a reverse. That it was coming now he could not doubt. McLauchlan, whowas to be Rev., had a flow of words (which would prevent his perspiringmuch in the pulpit), but he could no more describe a familiar scene withthe pen than a milkmaid can draw a cow. The Thrums representatives weresometimes as little gifted, it is true, and never were they so wellexercised, but this Tommy had the knack of it, as Mr. Ogilvy could notdoubt, for the story of his letter-writing had been through the glens.
"Keep up your spirits," Mr. Lorrimer had said to Mm as they walkedtogether to the fray, "Cathro's loon may compose the better of the two,but, as I understand, the first years of his life were spent in London,and so he may bogle at the Scotch."
But the Dominie replied, "Don't buoy me up on a soap bubble. If there'sa
s much in him as I fear, that should be a help to him instead of ahindrance, for it will have set him a-thinking about the words he uses."
And the satisfaction on Tommy's face when the subject of the essay wasgiven out, with the business-like way in which he set to work, hadadded to the Dominie's misgivings; if anything was required todishearten him utterly it was provided by Cathro's confident smile. Thetwo Thrums ministers were naturally desirous that Tommy should win, butthe younger of them was very fond of Mr. Ogilvy, and noticing hisunhappy peeps through the door dividing the rooms, proposed that itshould be closed. He shut it himself, and as he did so he observed thatTommy was biting his pen and frowning, while McLauchlan, having ceasedto think, was getting on nicely. But it did not strike Mr. Dishart thatthis was worth commenting on.
"Are you not satisfied with the honors you have already got, you greedyman?" he said, laying his hand affectionately on Mr. Ogilvy, who onlysighed for reply.
"It is well that the prize should go to different localities, for inthat way its sphere of usefulness is extended," remarked pompous Mr.Gloag, who could be impartial, as there was no candidate from NoranSide. He was a minister much in request for church soirees, where heamused the congregations so greatly with personal anecdote about himselfthat they never thought much of him afterwards. There is one suchminister in every presbytery.
"And to have carried the Hugh Blackadder seven times running is surelyenough for any one locality, even though it be Glenquharity," said Mr.Lorrimer, preparing for defeat.
"There's consolation for you, sir," said Mr. Cathro, sarcastically, tohis rival, who tried to take snuff in sheer bravado, but let it slipthrough his fingers, and after that, until the two hours were up, thetalk was chiefly of how Tommy would get on at Aberdeen. But it wasconfined to the four ministers and one dominie. Mr. Ogilvy still hoveredabout the door of communication, and his face fell more and more, makingMr. Dishart quite unhappy.
"I'm an old fool," the Dominie admitted, "but I can't help being castdown. The fact is that--I have only heard the scrape of one pen fornearly an hour."
"Poor Lauchlan!" exclaimed Mr. Cathro, rubbing his hands gleefully, andindeed it was such a shameless exhibition that the Auld Licht ministersaid reproachfully, "You forget yourself, Mr. Cathro, let us not beunseemly exalted in the hour of our triumph."
Then Mr. Cathro sat upon his hands as the best way of keeping themapart, but the moment Mr. Dishart's back presented itself, he winked atMr. Ogilvy. He winked a good deal more presently. For after all--how totell it! Tommy was ignominiously beaten, making such a beggarly showthat the judges thought it unnecessary to take the essays home with themfor leisurely consideration before pronouncing Mr. Lauchlan McLauchlanwinner. There was quite a commotion in the school-room. At the end ofthe allotted time the two competitors had been told to hand in theiressays, and how Mr. McLauchlan was sniggering is not worth recording, sodumfounded, confused, and raging was Tommy. He clung to his papers,crying fiercely that the two hours could not be up yet, and Lauchlanhaving tried to keep the laugh in too long it exploded in his mouth,whereupon, said he, with a guffaw, "He hasna written a word for near anhour!"
"What! It was you I heard!" cried Mr. Ogilvy gleaming, while the unhappyCathro tore the essay from Tommy's hands. Essay! It was no more an essaythan a twig is a tree, for the gowk had stuck in the middle of hissecond page. Yes, stuck is the right expression, as his chagrinedteacher had to admit when the boy was cross-examined. He had not been"up to some of his tricks," he had stuck, and his explanations, as youwill admit, merely emphasized his incapacity.
He had brought himself to public scorn for lack of a word. What word?they asked testily, but even now he could not tell. He had wanted aScotch word that would signify how many people were in church, and itwas on the tip of his tongue but would come no farther. Puckle wasnearly the word, but it did not mean so many people as he meant. Thehour had gone by just like winking; he had forgotten all about timewhile searching his mind for the word.
When Mr. Ogilvy heard this he seemed to be much impressed, repeatedly henodded his head as some beat time to music, and he muttered to himself,"The right word--yes, that's everything," and "'the time went by likewinking'--exactly, precisely," and he would have liked to examineTommy's bumps, but did not, nor said a word aloud, for was he not therein McLauchlan's interest?
The other five were furious; even Mr. Lorrimer, though his man had won,could not smile in face of such imbecility. "You little tattie doolie,"Cathro roared, "were there not a dozen words to wile from if you had anill-will to puckle? What ailed you at manzy, or--"
"I thought of manzy," replied Tommy, woefully, for he was ashamed ofhimself, "but--but a manse's a swarm. It would mean that the folk in thekirk were buzzing thegither like bees, instead of sitting still."
"Even if it does mean that," said Mr. Duthie, with impatience, "what wasthe need of being so particular? Surely the art of essay-writingconsists in using the first word that comes and hurrying on."
"That's how I did," said the proud McLauchlan, who is now leader of aparty in the church, and a figure in Edinburgh during the month of May.
"I see," interposed Mr. Gloag, "that McLauchlan speaks of there being amask of people in the church. Mask is a fine Scotch word."
"Admirable," assented Mr. Dishart. "I thought of mask," whimpered Tommy,"but that would mean the kirk was crammed, and I just meant it to bemiddling full."
"Flow would have done," suggested Mr. Lorrimer.
"Flow's but a handful," said Tommy.
"Curran, then, you jackanapes!"
"Curran's no enough."
Mr. Lorrimer flung up his hands in despair.
"I wanted something between curran and mask," said Tommy, dogged, yetalmost at the crying.
Mr. Ogilvy, who had been hiding his admiration with difficulty, spread anet for him. "You said you wanted a word that meant middling full. Well,why did you not say middling full--or fell mask?"
"Yes, why not?" demanded the ministers, unconsciously caught in the net.
"I wanted one word," replied Tommy, unconsciously avoiding it.
"You jewel!" muttered Mr. Ogilvy under his breath, but Mr. Cathro wouldhave banged the boy's head had not the ministers interfered.
"It is so easy, too, to find the right word," said Mr. Gloag.
"It's no; it's as difficult as to hit a squirrel," cried Tommy, andagain Mr. Ogilvy nodded approval.
But the ministers were only pained.
"The lad is merely a numskull," said Mr. Dishart, kindly.
"And no teacher could have turned him into anything else," said Mr.Duthie.
"And so, Cathro, you need not feel sore over your defeat," added Mr.Gloag; but nevertheless Cathro took Tommy by the neck and ran him out ofthe parish school of Thrums. When he returned to the others he found theministers congratulating McLauchlan, whose nose was in the air, andcomplimenting Mr. Ogilvy, who listened to their formal phrases solemnlyand accepted their hand-shakes with a dry chuckle.
"Ay, grin away, sir," the mortified dominie of Thrums said to himsourly, "the joke is on your side."
"You are right, sir," replied Mr. Ogilvy, mysteriously, "the joke is onmy side, and the best of it is that not one of you knows what the jokeis!"
And then an odd thing happened. As they were preparing to leave theschool, the door opened a little and there appeared in the aperture theface of Tommy, tear-stained but excited. "I ken the word now," he cried,"it came to me a' at once; it is hantle!"
The door closed with a victorious bang, just in time to prevent Cathro--
"Oh, the sumph!" exclaimed Mr. Lauchlan McLauchlan, "as if it matteredwhat the word is now!"
And said Mr. Dishart, "Cathro, you had better tell Aaron Latta that thesooner he sends this nincompoop to the herding the better."
But Mr. Ogilvy giving his Lauchlan a push that nearly sent himsprawling, said in an ecstasy to himself, "He _had_ to think of it tillhe got it--and he got it. The laddie is a genius!" They were about totear up Tommy's essa
y, but he snatched it from them and put it in hisoxter pocket. "I am a collector of curiosities," he explained, "and thispaper may be worth money yet."
"Well," said Cathro, savagely, "I have one satisfaction, I ran him outof my school."
"Who knows," replied Mr. Ogilvy, "but what you may be proud to dust achair for him when he comes back?"