by Unknown
“Put the whole lot in the kirk-plate the first Sabbath day after ye came back to Thrums?”
“Na, na. My idea was to present a bawbee to a hundred and thirty-twa folk in Thrums, so as they could keep it round their necks or in a drawer as a memento of one of their humble fellow-townsmen.”
“No humble, surely?”
“Maybe no, but when ye do a thing in a big public way it’s the proper custom to speak of yersel’ as a puir crittur, and leave the other speakers to tell the truth about ye.”
“It’s a pity ye didna carry out that notion.”.
“Na, it’s no, for I had a better ane after, the which I did çarry out,”
“Yea?”
“Ay, I bocht a broach, to Chirsty with the siller.”
“Ho, ho, that’s whaur she got the broach?”
“It is so, and though I dinna want to boast, nobody having less need to do so, I can tell ye it was the biggest broach in Edinburgh at the price.”
Edinburgh was only a corner in Haggart’s field of corn, and from it I have not pulled half-a-dozen stalks. He was in various other great centres of adventure, and even in wandering between them he had experiences such as would have been a load for any ordinary man’s back. Once he turned showman, when the actors were paid in the pennies flung at them by admirers in the audience. Haggart made for himself a long blood-red nose, which proved such an irresistible target for moneyed sportsmen that the other players complained to the management. He sailed up canals swarming with monsters of the deep. He proved such an agreeable companion at farms that sometimes he had to escape in the night. He rescued a child from drowning and cowed a tiger by the power of the human eye, exactly as these things are done in a book which belonged to Chirsty. He had eleven guineas with him when he set out, and without a notebook he could tell how every penny of the money was spent. Prices, indeed, he remembered better than anything.
I — might as well attempt to walk up the wall of a house as to cut my way through Haggart’s cornfield. Before arriving at the field I thought to get through it by taking the buttons one by one, but here I am at the end of a chapter, and scarcely any of the corn is behind me. I now see that no biographer will ever be able to treat Haggart on the grand scale he demands; for humility will force those who knew him in his prime to draw back scared from the attempt, while younger admirers have not the shadow of his personality to warn them of their responsibility. For my own part, I publicly back out of the field, and sit down on the doctor’s dyke awaiting Haggart’s return to Thrums.
CHAPTER V
THE RETURN OF HAGGART
Haggart came home on a Saturday evening, when the water-barrels were running over, and our muddy roads had lost their grip. But at all times he took small note of the weather, and often said it was a fine day out of politeness to the acquaintances he met casually, when Tillyloss dripped in rain. To a man who has his loom for master it only occurs as an afterthought to look out at the window.
His shortest and natural route would have taken the wanderer to Tillyloss without zigzagging him through the rest of Thrums, but he made a circuit of the town, and came marching down the Roods.
“I wanted to burst upon the place sudden like,” he admitted, “and to let everybody see me. I dinna deny but what it was a proud moment, lads, as Thrums came in sicht. I had naturally a sort of contempt for the placey, and yet I was fell awid to be back in it too, just as a body is glad to slip into his bed at nicht. Ay, foreign parts is grand for adventure, but Thrums for company.”
At the top of the Roods he was recognised by two boys who had been to a farm for milk, and were playing at swinging their flagon over their heads without dropping its contents. The apparition stayed the flagon in the air, and the boys clattered off screaming. Their father had subsequently high words with Tammas, who refused to refund the price of the milk.
“Though my expectations was high,” Haggart said, “they were completely beaten by the reality. Nothing could have been more gratifying than the sensation I created, not only among laddies and lassies but among grown men and women. Very weel I ken that Dan’l Strachen pretends he stood his ground when I came upon him at the mouth of Saunders Rae’s close, but whaur was the honour in that, when the crittur was paralyzed with fear? Ah, he wasna the only man that lost his legs in the Roods that day; Will’um Crewe beA TILLYLOSS SCANDAL ing another. Snecky Hobart, you was one of them as I walked into at Peter Lambie’s shop door, and I’ll never speak to ye again if ye dinna allow as I scattered ye like a showman in the square does when he passes round the hat.”
“I allow, Tammas, as I made my feet my friend that nicht.”
“And did I no send the women flying and skirling in all directions? Was it me or was it no me that made Mysy Dinnie faint on her back in the corner of the school-wynd?”
“It was you, Tammas, and michty boastful the crittur was when she came to, and heard she had fainted.”
“And there’s a curran women as says they hung out at their windows looking at me. I would like to hear of one proved case in which ony woman did that except at a second storey window?
“Sal, they didna dare look out at low windows. Na, they were more like putting on their shutters.
“And did some of them no bar their doors, and am I lying when I say Lisbeth Whamand up with her bairn out of the cradle and ran to the door of the Auld Licht kirk, thinking I couldna harm her there?”
“You’re speaking gospel, Tammas. And it wasna to be wondered at that we should be terrified, seeing we had buried ye five months before.”
“I’m no saying it was unnatural. I would have been particular annoyed if ye had been so stupid as to stand your ground. And what’s more, if I had met the Auld Licht minister he would have run like the rest.”
But this oft-repeated assertion of Haggart’s was usually received in silence. His extraordinary imagination enabled him to conceive this picture, but to such a height we never rose.
By the time Haggart reached the Tenements the town had sufficiently recovered to follow him at a distance. How he looked to the populace has been frequently discussed, Peter Lambie’s description being regarded as the best.
“Them of you,” Peter would say, drawn to the door of his shop by Haggart groups, “as has been to the Glen Quharity Hieland sports, can call to mind the competition for best-dressed Hielander. The Hielanders stands in their glory in a row, and the grand leddies picks out the best-dressed one. Weel, the competitors tries to look as if they didna ken they were being admired, implying as they’re indifferent to whether they get the prize or no, but, all the time, there’s a sort of pleased smirk on their faces, mixed up with a natural anxiety. Ay, then, that’s the look Tammas Haggart had when he passed my shop.”
“But ye saw a change come ower him, did ye no?”
“I did. I was among them as ran after him along the Tenements, and, though I just saw his back, it wasna the back he had on when he passed my shop. I would say, judging from his back, as his chest was sticking out, and he walked with a sort of strut, like the Hielander as has won the prize and kens it would be a haver to make pretence of modesty ony more.”
“But ye never saw me look back, Peter,” Haggart said, when Lambie’s version was presented to him.
“Na, it was astonishing how ye could have kept frae turning your head. Ye was like one unaware that there was sich a crowd running after ye.”
“Ay, lad, but very weel I kent for all that. Thinks I to mysel’ as I walks on before ye—’This scene winna be forgotten for many a year.’”
“And it will not, Tammas. It did the work of the town for a nine days. Ay, I’ve often said mysel’ that you walked hame that nicht more like a circus procession than a single man. The only thing I a kind of shake my head at is your saying ye wasna a humorist at that time.”
-”I didna just gang that length, Pete. I was a humorist and I wasna a humorist. My humour was just peeping out of its hole like a rabbit, as ye micht say.”
“Ye said as
when ye started on your wanderings it was like putting yoursel’, considered as a humorist, on the fire to boil. Weel, then, I say as ye had come aboil when ye marched through Thrums.”
“Na, Lookaboutyou, it’s an ingenious argument that; but ye’ve shop ower the top of the target, lad. Ye’ve all seen water so terrible near the boil that if ye touch it with your finger it does begin to boil?”
“Ay, that’s true; but a spoon is better to touch it with, in case you burn your finger.”
Lookaboutyou got a laugh for this, which annoyed Tammas. “Take care, Lookaboutyou,” he said, warningly, “or I’ll let ye see as my humour can burn too. I ken a sarcastic thing to say to ye, my man.”
“But what about the water so near the boil?” asked Hobart, while Lookaboutyou shrunk back.
“My humour was in that condition,” said Haggart, still eyeing the foolish farmer threateningly, “when I came back to Thrums. It just needed a touch to make it boil.”
“And, sal, it got the touch!”
“Ay, I admit that; but no till the Monday.”
We go back to the march from the Roods to Tillyloss. In less time than it would have taken Haggart to bring his sarcastic shaft from the depths where he stowed these things and fire it into Lookaboutyou, he had walked triumphantly to Tillyloss, and turned up the road that was presently to be named after him. His tail of fellow-townsmen came to a stop at the pump, where they had a good view of Haggart’s house, all but a few daring ones, nearly all women, who ran up the dyke, in hope of witnessing the meeting with Chirsty.
“I suppose, lads,” Haggart said to us, “that ye’re thinking of my arrival at Tillyloss was the crowning moment of my glory?”
“It was bound to be.”
“So ye think, Andrew; but that just shows how little ye ken about the human heart. I got as far as Tillyloss terribly windy at the way ye had honoured me; but, lads, something came ower me at the sicht of that auld outside stair. Ay, it had a michty hame-like look.”
“I’ve heard tell ye stopped and gazed at it, like grand folk admiring the view.”
“Ay, lathies, I daursay I did so; but it wasna the view I was thinking about. I’ll warrant ye couldna say what was in my mind?”
“Your funerai?”
“I never gave it a thocht. Na, but I’ll tell ye: I was thinking of Chirsty Todd.”
“Ay, and the startle she was to get?”
“No, Snecky; it’s an astonishing thing, but the moment my e’en saw that outside stair I completely lost heart, and frae being lifted up with pride, down goes my courage like a bucket in a well. Was it the stair as terrified me? Na, it was Chirsty Todd. Lads, I faced the whole drove of ye as bold as a king sitting down at the head of his tea table; but the thocht of Chirsty Todd brocht my legs to a stop. Ay, for all we may say to the contrairy, is there a man in Thrums as hasna a kind of fear of his wife?”
At this question Haggart’s listeners usually looked different ways.
‘‘Lads,” continued Tammas, “ it ran through me suddenly, like a cold blast of wind—’What if Chirsty shouldna be glad to see me back?’ and I regretted michty that I hadna halved the guineas with her. Ay, I tell ye openly, as I found mysel ‘ getting smaller, like a gas-ball with a hole in it, and I a kind of lost sight of all I had to boast of. I was ashamed of mysel’ and also in mortal terror of Chirsty Todd. Ay, but I never let her ken that: na, na; a man has to be wary about what he tells his wife.”
“He has so, for she’s sure to fling it at him by-and-by like a wet clout. Women has terrible memories for what ye blurt out to them.”
“Ye’re repeating my words, Rob, as if they were your own; but what ye say is true. Women doesna understand about men’s minds being profounder than theirs, and consequently waur to manage.”
“That’s so, and it’s a truth ye daurna mention to them. But ye was come to the outside stair, Tammas.”
“Ay, I was. Lads, I climbed that stair all of a tremble, and my hand was shaking so muckle that for a minute I couldna turn the handle of the door.”
“We saw as ye a sort of tottered.”
‘‘Ay, I was uneasy; and even when the door opened I didna just venture inside. Na, I had a feeling as it was a judicious thing to keep a grip of the door. Weel, lathies, I stood there keeking in, and what does I see but Chirsty Todd sitting into the fire, with my auld pipe in her mouth. Ay, there she sat blasting.”
“How did that affect ye, Tammas?”
“How did it affect me? It angered me most michty to see her enjoying hersel’, and me thocht to be no more.”
“‘Ye heartless limmer,’ I says to mysel’, and that reminds me as a man is master in his own house, so I bangs the door to and walks in.”
“Wha spoke first?”—’
“Oh, I spoke first. I spoke just as her e’en lichted on me.”
“Ye had said a memorable thing?”
“I canna say I did. No, Pete. I just gave her a sly kind of look, and I says, ‘Ay, Chirsty.’”
“She screamed, they say?”
“She did so, and the pipe fell from her mouth. Ay, it’s a gratification to me to ken that she did scream.”
“And what happened next?”
“She spyed at me suspiciously; and says she, ‘ Tammas Haggart, are you in the flesh?’ to which I replies, ‘I am so, Chirsty.’
‘Then,’ cries she sharply, ‘take your dirty feet off my clean floor!’”
“And did ye?”
“Ay, I put them on the fender; and she cries, ‘Take your dirty feet off the fender.’
“Lads, I thocht it was best to sing small, so I took off my boots, and she sat glowering at me, but never speaking. ‘Ay, Chirsty,’ I says, ‘ye’ve had rain I’m thinking;’ and she says, ‘The rain’s neither here nor there; the question is, How did you break out?’ Ay, the critter thocht I had broken out of my grave.”
“We all thocht that.”
“Nat’rally ye did. Weel, I began my story at the beginning, but with the impatience of a woman she aye said, ‘I dinna want to hear that, I want to ken how you broke out!’” ‘‘But she wanted to hear about the siller in the buttons?”
“Ay, but I tried to slither ower the buttons, fearing she would be mad at me for spending them. And, losh, mad she was! I explained to her as I put them to good use by improving my mind, but she says, ‘Dinna blather about your mind to me, or I? I’ll take the poker to ye!’ Chirsty was always fond of language.”
“But what about the Wellwisher?”
“Oh, that was a queery. I says to Chirsty, ‘I did not forget your sufferings, Chirsty, for I’m the Wellwisher,’ At first she didna understand, but then she minds and says, ‘It was you as sent that bit cheese with D. Fittis, was it?’ Lads, then it came out as the cheese was standing in the press untouched. Ay, I tore it in twa with my hands, and out rolls the guinea. She had never dreamed of there being siller in the cheese.”
“Na, she was terrified to touch the cheese. I mind when I could have bocht it frae her for twa or three bawbees. Ay, what chances a body misses. But she had been pleasanter with ye after she got the guinea?”
“I can hardly say that. She nipped it up quick, and tells me to go on with my story. Weel, I did so in a leisurely way, her aye nagging at me to come to the quarry, as I soon had to do. I need scarce tell ye she was michty surprised it wasna me ye buried, but, after that was cleared up, I saw her mind wasna on what I was saying to her. No, lads, I was the length of Dundee in my story when she jumps up, and away she goes to the lowest shelf in the dresser. I stopped in my talk and watched her. She pulls out the iron and lays it on the table, then she shoves a heater into the fire, and brings an auld dicky out of a drawer. Lads, I had a presentiment what she was after.
“‘What are ye doing, Chirsty?’ I says with misgivings.
“‘I’m to iron a dicky for ye to wear tomorrow,’ she cries, and she kicks my foot off the fender.
“‘I’m no going to the kirk,’ I warns her.
“‘Are
ye no?’ says she; ‘ye gang twice, Tammas Haggart, though the Auld Licht minister has to drive ye to the door with a stick.’
“Ay, when I heard she had joined the Auld Lichts I kent I was done with lazy Sabbaths. Weel, she ironed away at that dicky with tremendous energy, and then all at once she lays down the iron and she cries, “‘Keeps us all, I had forgotten!’ She was the picture of woe.
“‘What’s the matter, Chirsty?’ I says.
“She stood there wringing her hands.
“£Ye canna gang to the kirk,’ she moans, ‘for ye have no clothes.’
“‘No clothes!’ I cries, ‘I have my blacks.’
“‘They’re gone,’ she says.
“‘Gone, ye limmer!’ I says, ‘wha has them?’
“‘Davit Whamand,’ she says, ‘has the coat and Sender Haggart the waistcoat and the hat.’
“Ay, lads, I can tell ye this composedly now, but I was fuming at the time. Chirsty’s passion for genteelity was such that she had imitated grand folk’s customs and given away the clothes as had been worn by the corpse.”
“That came of taking a wife frae Balribbie.”
“Ay, and it’s not the only proof of Chirsty’s vanity, for, as ye all ken, she continued to wear her crape to the kirk long after I came back.”
“Because she thocht it set her?”
“Ou, rather, just because she had it. But it was aggravating to me to have to walk with her to the kirk, and her in widow’s crapes. It would have provoked an ordinary man to the drink.”
“It would so, but what said ye when ye heard the blacks was gone?”
‘‘Said? It wasna a time for saying. I shoved my feet into my boots and flung on my bonnet, and hurries to the door.
“‘Whaur are ye going?’ cries Chirsty.
“‘To demand back my blacks,’ I says, dashing open the door with my fist. Ye may mind there was some of ye keeking in at the door and the window, trying to hearken to the conversation.”
“Ay, and we flew frae ye as if ye was the Riot Act. But we was thinking by that time as ye micht be a sort of living.”