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J

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/34.

I

THE

SHEPHERD'S CALENDAR

XDIKBURGH : PRINTED BT BALLANTTNl AND COMPANT.

SHEPHERD'S CALENDAR.

^'/';

THE

BY JAMES HOGG,

AUTHOR OF " THE QUEEN'S WAKE," Slc 6lc

IN TWO VOLUMES.

VOL. I.

WILLIAM BLACKWOOD, EDINBURGH;
AND T. CADELL, LONDON.
MDCCCXXIX.

/34.

ADVERTISEMENT.

The greater number of the Tales contfuned
in these volames appeared originally in Black-
wood's Edinburgh Magazine. They have
been revised with care; and to complete the
Collection, several Tales hitherto unpublished
have been added.

CONTENTS OF VOL I.

Chap. I. Rob Dodds 1

II. Mr Adamson of LaTeibope, 33

III. The Prodigal Son, (S»

IV. The School of Miifortone, 112

V. George Dobson's Expedidon to Hell, . . 131

VI. The Soutera of Sdkirk, 148

VII. The Laird of Gassway, 176

VIII. Tibby Hyalop's Dream, 212

IX. Mary Burnet, 247

X. The Brownie of ihe Black Uaggs, . . . SSi

XI. The Laird of Wineholm, 311

THE

SHEPHERD'S CALENDAR.

caaiAPTER I.

ROB D0DD6.

It was on the 13th of Fehrnary 1823, on a cold
stormy day, the snow lying from one to ten feet deep
on the hiUs, and nearly as hard as ice, when an exten-
sive store-fanner in the outer limits of the county of
Peebles went up to one of his led farms, to see how
his old shepherd was coming on with his flocks. A
partial thaw had blackened some spots here and there
on the brows of the mountains, and oyer these the
half-starving flocks were scattered, picking up a scanty
sustenance, while all the hollow parts, and whole sides
of mountains that lay sheltered from the winds on the
preceding week, when the great drifts blew, were
heaped and over-heaped with immense loads of snow,
80 that every hill appeared to the farmer to havo
changed its form. There was a thick white base, on

VOL. I. A

THE shepherd's CALENDAR.

the sky, Gorresponding exactly with the wan frigid
colour of the high mountains, so that in casting one's
eye up to the heights, it was not apparent where the
limits of the earth ended, and the heavens hegan. There
was no horizon — ^no blink of the sun lookiog through
the pale and impervious mist of hearen ; but there, in
that elevated and sequestered hopey the old shepherd
and his flock seemed to be left out of nature and all
its sympathies, and embosomed in one interminable
chamber of waste desolation.— So his master thought;
and any stranger beholding the scene, would have been
still more deeply impressed that the case was so in
reality.

But the old shepherd thought and felt otherwise*
He saw God in the clouds, and watched his arm in
the direction of die storm^ He perceived, or thought
he perceived, one man's flocks suffering on accoimt of
their owner's transgi'ession ; and though he bewiuled
the hardships to which the poor harmless creotTires
were reduced, he yet acknowledged in his heart the
justness of the pimishment. << These temporal scourgea
are laid upon sinners in mercy," said he^ << and it will
be well for them if they get bo away. It will teach
them in future how to drink and carouse, and speak
profane things of the name of Him in whose hand are
ihe issues of life, and to regard his servants as the
dogs of their flock."

ROB DODDS. S

Again, he beheld from his heightt, whan the days
were clear, the flocks of others more favourably situ-
ated, which he interpreted as a reward for their acta
of charity and beney<^«ice ; for this old man believed
that all temporal benefits are sent to men as a reward
for good woilfiB ; and all temporal deprivations as a
scourge for evil ones.

'^ I hae been a herd in this hope, callant and man,
for these fifty years now, Janet,'' said he to his old
wife, ^^ and I diink I never saw the face o* the coon-
try look wanr.'*

*^ Hont, gudeman, it is but a clud o' the despond*
ency o' anld age come ower your een ; for I hae seen
wanr storms than this, or else my sight deceives me*
This time seven and thirty years, when you and I
were married, there was a deeper, and a harder snaw
faattk,.tfaan this. There was mony a bom dammed op
wi' dead hogs that year I And what say ye to this
time nine years, gudeman ?"

** Ay, ay, Janet, these were hard times when they
were present. But I think there's something in oar
eormpt nature that gars us aye trow the |H:esent burden
is the heaviest. However, it is either my strength
hSao^y that I canna won sae weel through the snaw,
or I never saw it lying sae deep before. I canna steer
the poor creatures frae ae knowe-head to another, with-
out rowing them ower the body. And tometimea

THE shepherd's CALENDAR.

when they wad spraughle away, then I stick firm and
fast mysell, and the mair I fight to get out, I gang aye
the deeper. This same day, nae farther gane, at ae
step up in the Grait Cleuch, I slumpit in to the neck.
Peace he wi' us, quo' I to myself, where am I now ?
If my axdd wife wad but look up the hill, she wad see
nae mair o' her poor man but the bannet. Ah I Janet,
Janet, I'm rather feared that our Maker has a craw to
pook wi' us even now 1"

. << I hope no, Andrew ; we're in good hands ; and if
he shoxdd e'en see meet to pook a craw wi' us, he'U
maybe fling us buth the bouk and the feathers at the
end. Ye shouldna repine, gudeman. Ye're something
ill for thrawing your mou' at Providence now and
then."

<< Na, na, Janet ; far be't free me to grumble at
Providence. I ken ower weel that the warst we get
is far aboon our merits. But it's no for the season
that I'm sae feared, — ^that's ruled by Ane that canna
err ; only, I dread that there's something rotten in the
government or the religion of the country, that lays it
under His curse. There's my fear, Janet. The scourge
•f a land often fa's on its meanest creatures first, and
advances by degrees, to gie the boonmost orders o'
society warning and time to repent. There, for in-
stance, in the saxteen and seventeen, the scourge fell
on our flocks and our herds. Then, in aughteen and

ROB DODDS. 5

nineteen, it fell on the weayeny^-theyre tlie neu»t
class, je ken ; then our merchants, — they're the neist
again ; and last of a* it has fidlen on the farmers and
the shepherds, — ^theyre the first and maist sterling
class of a country. Na, ye needna smudge and laugh,
Janet ; for it's true. They art the boonmost, and hae
aye been the boonmost sin' the days o' Abel ; and
that's nae date o' yesterday. And ye'U observe, Janet,
that whenever they began to fa' low, they gat aye
another lift to keep up their respect. But I see our
downfa' coming on us wi' rapid 8trides.~-There*s a
heartlessness and apathy croppen in amang the sheep-
fiumersy that shows their warldly hopes to be nearly
extinct. The maist o' them seem no to care a bodle
whether their sheep die or live. There's our master,
for instance, ndien times were g^ann weel, I hae seen
him up ilka third day at the farthest in the time of a
storm, to see how the sheep were doing ; and this
winter I hae never seen his face sin' it came on. He
seems to hae forgotten that there are sic creatures
existing in this wilderness as the sheep and me. — His
presence be about us, gin there be nae the very man
come by the window !"

Janet sprung to her feet, swept the hearth, set a
chair on ihe cleanest side, and wiped it with her check
apron, all ere one could well look about him.

THE shepherd's CALENDAR.

<< Come away, master ; come in by to the fire here ;
lang-lookit-for comes at leogthJ'

<< How are you, Jaiaet ?— still living, I see. It is a
pity that you had not popped off before diis great storm
came on."

« Dear, what for, master ?"

<^ Because if you should take it into your head to
coup the creels just now, you know it woxdd be out
of the power of man to get you to a Christian burial.
•We would be obliged to huddle you up in the nook of
the kail-yard."

<^ Ah, master, what's that you're saying to my sold
wife ? Aye the auld man yet, I hear! a great deal
o' the leaven o' corrupt nature aye sprouting out noiw
and then. I wonder you're no fear'd to speak in that
regardless manner in these judgment-looking times !'*

^' And you are still the old man too, Andrew ; a
great deal of cant and hypocrisy sprouting out at times.
But tell me, you old sinner, how has your Maker
been serving you this storm ? I have been right tw-
nfied about your sheep ; for I know you will have been
very impertinent with him of evenings."

<< Hear to that now I There's no hope, I see I. I
thought to find you humbled wi' a' thir trials and
warldly losses ; but I see the heart is hardened like
Pharaoh's, and you will not let the multitude of your
sins go. As to the storm, I can teU you, my sheep

ROB DODD6. 7

are just at ane mae wi*t. I am wanr than oay o' mj
neighbours, as I lie higher on the hills ; but I may hae
been as it dianced, for yon ; for ye hae nerer lookit
near me mair than yon had had no concern in the
oeatnres."

<' Indeed, Andrew, it is becanse neither yon nor the
creatvres are mnch worth looking after now-a-daya.
If it hadna be^ the fear I was in for some mishiy
coming over the stock, on acoonnt of these hypocriti*
eal prayers of yoms, I would not haye come to look
after yon so soon."

^^ Ah, there's nae mense to be had o' you I It*s a
good thing I ken the heart's better than the tongue, or
ane wad hae little face to pray either for you, or aught
that belangs t'ye. But I hope ye hae been nae the
wmnr o' anld Andrew's prayers as yet. An some didna
pray for ye, it wad maybe be the waur for ye. I
prayed for ye udien ye couldna pray for yoursell, and
had hopes that, when I turned auld and doited, yon
might say a Idnd word for me ; but I'm fear'd that
warld's wealth and warld's pleasures hae been leading
you ower lang in their tnun, and that ye hae been
trusting to that which will soon take wings and flee
away."

<< If you mean riches, Andrew, or warld's wealth, as
you call it, you nerer said a truer word in your life ;
for the little that my forbears and I have made, is ac-

8 THE SHEPHERD^S CALENDAR.

tiially, under the influence of these long prayers of
yours, melting away from among my hands faster than
ever the snow did from the dike.''

<< It is perfectly true, what you're saying, master.
I ken the extent o' your hits o' sales weel enough, and
I ken your rents ; and weel I ken you're telling me nae
lee. And it's e'en a hard case. But I'll tell you what
I would do— I woxdd throw their tacks in their teeth,
and let them mak aught o' them they likit."

" Why, that would he ruin at once, Andrew, with
a vengeance. Don't you see that stocks of sheep are
frdlen so low, that if they were put to sale, they woidd
not pay more than the rents, and some few arrears that
erery one of us have got into ; and thus, hy throwing
up our farms, we would throw ourselves out heggare?
We are all willing to put off the evil day as long as
we can, and rather trust to long prayers for a while."

^' Ah I you're th^e again, are you ?— canna let
alane profanity I It's hard to gar a wicked cout leave
off flinging. But I can tell you, master mine — An
you farmers had made your hay when the sun shone,
ye might a' hae sitten independent o' your screwing
lairds, wha are maistly sur out at elhows ; and ye ken,
sir, a hungry louse hites wicked sair. But this is but
a just judgment come on you for your behaviour. Ye
had the gaun days o' prosperity for twenty years I But
instead o' laying by a little for a sair leg, or making

ROB DODD8. 9

provision for an evil day, ye gaed on like madmen.
•Ye biggit houses, and ye plantit vineyards, and threw
away money as ye had been sawing sklate-stanes. Ye
drank wine, and ye drank punch ; and ye roared and
ye sang, and spake unseemly things. And did ye
nev^ think there was an ear that heard, and an ee
that saw, a' thae things ? And did ye never think that
they wad be visited on your heads some day when ye
couldna play paw to help yonrsells? If ye didna
think sae then, yell think sae soon. And yell maybe
see the day when the like o' auld Andrew, wi* his
darned hose, and his cloutit shoon ; his braid bannet,
instead of a baiver; his drink out o' the clear spring,
instead o' the punch bowl ; and his good steeve ait-
meal parritch and his horn spoon, instead o* the drapa
e' tea» that costs sae muckle — I say, that sic a' man wi'
a' thae, and his worthless prayers to boot, will maybe
keep the crown o' the causeway langer than some that
carried their heads higher."

^< Hout fie, Andrew I" quoth old Janet; ^* Gude-
ness be my help, an I dinna think shame o' you I Our
master may weel think ye'll be impudent wi' your
Maker; for troth youre very impudent wi* himsell.
Dinna ye see that ye hae made the douce sonsy lad
that he disna ken where to look ?"

>^ Ay> Janet, your husband may weel crack. He

a8

10 THE shepherd's CALENDAR.

kens he has feathered his nest off my father and me.
He is independent, let the world wag as it wilL"

<< It's a' fairly come hy, master, and the maist part
o*t came through your ain hands. But my bairns are
a* doing for themsells, in the same way that I did ;
and if twa or three himder poimds can beet a mister
for you in a strait, ye sanna want it, come of a' what
will."

<' It is weel said of you, Andrew, and I am obliged
- to you. There is no class of men in this kingdom so
independent as you shepherds. You have your sheep,
your cow, your meal and potatoes ; a regular income
of from sixteen to thirty pounds yearly, without a
&rthing of expenditure, except for shoes; for your
clothes are all made at home. If you would eren
wish to spend it, you cannot get an opportunity, and
every one of you is rich, who has not lost money by
lending it. It is therefore my humble opinion, that
all the farms over this country will soon change occu-
pants ; and that the shepherds must xdtimately become
the store-farmers."

<< I hope in God 111 never live to see that, master,
for the sake of them that I and mine hae won our
bread frae, as weel as some others that I hae a great
respect for. But that's no a thing that hasna happened
afore this day. It is little mair than a hundred and
forty years, sin' a' the land i' this country changed

BOBDODD6. H

maat&ra already; sin' ereiy fiumer in it was reduced,
and the farms were a' ta'en by common people and
strangcars at half naething. The Wekhes came here
tba^ out o' a place they ca' Wales, in England ; the
Andersons came frae a place they ca' Rannoch, some
gate i' the north ; and yoor ain fiamily came first to
this country then frae some bit lairdship near Glasgow.
There were a set o' MacGregors and MacDoogals,
said to hare been great thieves, came into Yarrow
then, and changed their names to Scotts; bnt they
didna thrive ; for they wama likit, and the hinderend
o' them were in the Catslackbum. They ca'd them
aye the Pmolys, frae the place they came frae ; but I
diona ken where it was. The Ballantynes came frae
GaUoway ; and for as flourishing folks as they are now,
the first o' tiiem came out at the Birkhill-path, riding
on a haltered pony, wi' a goat-skin aneath him for a
saddle. The Cunninghams, likewise, began to spread
dieir wings at the same time ; they came a' frae a little
fat curate that came out o' Glencaim to Ettrick. But
that's nae disparagement to ony o' thae families ; fov
an there be merit at a' inherent in man as to warldly
thingB, it is certainly in raising himsell frae naething to
reject. There is nae very ancient name amang a' our
formers now, but the Tweedies and the Murrays ; I
mean of them that apciently belanged to this district.
The Tweedies are very auld, and took the name frae

12 THE shepherd's CALENDAR.

the water. They were lairds o' Drommelzier hunders
o' years afore the Hays got it, and hae some o' the
best blood o' the land in their veins ; and sae also have
the Murrays ; but the maist part o' the rest are up-
starts and come-o'-wills. Now ye see, for as far out-
bye as I live, \ can tell ye some things that ye dinna
hear amang your drinking cronies."

^< It is when you begin to these old traditions that I
like to listen to you, Andrew. Can you tell me what
was the cause of such a complete overthrow of the
fanners of that age ?"

• ** Oh, I caona tell, sir — ^I caona tell ; some overturn
o' affairs, like the present, I fancy. The farmers had
outher lost a' their sheep, or a' their siller, as they are
like to do now ; but I canna tell how it was ; for the
general diange had ta'en place, for the maist part, afore
the Revolution. My ain grandfather, who was the son
of a great farmer, hired himsell for a shepherd at that
time to yoimg Tarn Linton; and mony ane was
wae for the downcome. But, speaking o' that, of a
the downcomes that ever a coimtry kenn'd in a farm-
ing name, there has never been ought like that o' the
Lintons. When my grandfather was a young man,
and ane o' their herds, they had a' the principal store-
hrjpas o* Ettrick Forest, and a part in this shire. They

•

had, when the great Mr Boston came to Ettrick, the
farms o' Blackhouse, Dryhope, Henderland, Chapel-

ROB DODDS. IS

hope, Scabdeuch, Shorthope, iVCdgehope, Meggai-
knowes, Buccleuch, and Gilmanscleachy that I ken of^
and likely as mony mae; and now there's no a man o'
the name in a' the bounds aboon the nmk of a cow*
herd, Thomas Linton rode to kirk and market^ wi' a
lireryman at his back ; but wha% is a' that pride now ?
— a* buried in the mools wi' the bearers o*t I and the
last representatiye o' that great overgrown fEunily^ that
laid house to house, and field to field, is now sair gane
on a wee, wee farm o' the Duke o' Buccleuch's. The
ancient curse had lighted on these men, if ever it
lighted on men in this world. And yet they were
redkoned good men, and kind men, in their day ; for
the good Mr Boston wrote an epitaph on Thomas, in
metre, when he died ; and though I have read it a huur
der limes in St Mary's kirk-yard, where it is to be seen
to this day, I canna say it ower. But it says that he
was eyes to the blind, and feet to the lame, and that
the Lord would reqidte him in a day to come, or
something to that purpose* Now that said a great
deal for him, master, although Providence has seen
meet to strip his race of a' their worldly possessions.
But take an auld fool's advice, and never lay farm
to fjEurm, even though a fair opportunity should offer ;
for, as sure as He lives who pronoimced that curse, it
will take effect. Tm an auld man, and I hae seen
mony a dash made that way ; but I never saw ane o*

14 THE shepherd's CALENDAR.

them come to good I There was first Murray of
Glemnth ; why, it was trntelling what land that man
possessed* Now his family has not a furr in the twa
counties. Then there was his neighbour Simpson of
Possa: I hae seen the day that Simpson had two-and-
twenty farms, the best o' the twa coimties, and a;'
stockit wi' good sheep. Now there's no a drap o' his
blood has a furr in the twa counties. Then there was
Grieve of Willenslee ; ane wad hae thought that body
imA gaun to take the haill kingdom. He was said to
have had ten thousand sheep, a' on good farms, at ae
time. Where are they a' now ? Neither him nor his
hae a furr in the twa coimties. Let me tell ye, master
—for ye're but a young man, and I wad aye fain have
ye to see things in a right light — that ye may blame
the wars ; ye may blame the Govemment ; and ye may
blame the Parliamenters : but there's a hand that rules
higher than a' these ; and gin ye dinna look to that,
ye'U never look to the right source either o' your pros-
perity or adversity. And I sairly doubt that the pride
o' the farmers has been raised to ower great a pitch,
that Providence has been brewing a day of humiliation
for them, and that there will be a change o' hands
amce mair, as there was about this time bunder and
forty years."

<< Then I suppose you shepherds expect to have cen-

ROB DODDS. 15

tnry about with us, or so ? Well, I don*t see any tfaiiig
very unfair in it."

^ Ajy but I fear we will be as far aneath the rigin
medium f(Nr a while, as ye are startit aboon it. Well
make a fine hand doing the honours o* the grand man*
mon^ouses that ye4iae biggit for us ; the cavahy exeiw
dses ; the guns and the pointers ; the wine and tha
punch drinking ; and the singing o* the deboshed sanga f
But well just come to the rig^t set again in a generup
tion or twa ; and then, as soon as we get ower hee^
well get a downcome in our turn. — Bnt, master, I saf ,
how will you grand gentlemen tak wi' a shepherd's
life ? How wiQ ye like to be turned into reeky holes
like this, where ye can hardly see your fingers afore ye,
and be reduced to the parritch and the horn spoon ?"

^ I cannot tell, Andrew. I suppose it will have
some adrantages — It will teach us to say long prayeia
to put off the time ; and if we should haye the misfofu
tone afterwards to pass into the bad place that yon
shepherds are all so terrified about, why, we will scarce-
ly know any difference. I account that a great adnM-
tage in dwelling in such a place as this. We*ll scares
ly know the one place from the other.*'

'< Ay, but oh what a surprise ye will get when ye
st^ out o' ane o* yonr grand palaces into hell I And
gin ye dinna repent in time, yell maybe get a little ex-
perbnent o' that sort. Ye think ye hae said a Tery

16 THE shepherd's CALENDAR.

witty thing there : but a' profane wit is sinfd* ; and
whatever is sinfu' is shamefu' ; and therefore it never
suits to be said either afore God or man. Ye are just
a good standing sample o' the young tenantry o' Scot-
land at this time. Ye're ower genteel to be devout,
and ye look ower high, and depend ower muckle on the
arm o' flesh, to regard the rod and Him that hath ap-
pointed it. But it will fa' wi' the mair weight for that !
A blow that is seen coming may be wardit off; but if
ane*s sae proud as no to regard it, it's the less scaith
that he suffer."

^< I see not how any man can ward off this blow,
Andrew. It has gathered its overwhelming force in
springs over which we have no control, and is of that
nature that no industry of man can avail against it—
ttcertion is no more than a drop in the bucket : and I
greatly fear that this grievous storm is come to lay the
axe to the root of the tree."

<< I'm glad to hear, however, that ye hae some Scrip-
ture phrases at your tongue-roots. I never heard you
use ane in a serious mode before ; and I hope there will
be a reformation yet. If adversity hae that effect, I
shall willingly submit to my share o' the loss if the
storm should lie still for a while, and cut off a wheen
o' the creatures, that ye aince made eedals o\ and now
dow hardly bide to see. But that's the gate wi' a
things that ane sets up for warldly worship in place o*

ROB DODDS. 17

the tnie object; they torn a' ont carses and causes o'
shame and disgrace. As for warding off the blow,
master, I see no resource but throwing up the farms
ilk ane, and trying to save a renmant out o* the fire.
The lairds want naething better than for ye to rin in
arrears ; then they will get a' yonr stocks for neist to
naetlvng) and have the land stockit themsells as they
had langsyne ; and you will be their keepers, or vassals,
the same as we are to you at present. As to hinging
on at the present rents, it is madness — the very extre-
mity of madness. I hae been a herd here for fifty
years, and I ken as weel what the ground wiU pay at
everj price of sheep as you do, and I daresay a great
deal better. When I came here first, your father paid
less than the third of the rent that you are bound to
pay ; sheep of every description were dearer, lambs,
ewes, and wedders ; and I ken weel he was making no
money of it, honest man, but merely working his way,
with some years a little over, and some naething. And
how is it possible that you can pay three times the rent
at lower prices of sheep ? I say the very presumptiim
of the thing is sheer madness. And it is not only this
ftam, but you may take it as an average of all the farms
in the country, that before the French war began^ the
$htep were dearer than they are now — the farms were
not abgve one-third (fthe rents at an average^ and the
farmers were not making any money. They have lost

18 THE shepherd's CALENDAR.

their summer day during the French war, which will
never return to them ; and the only resource they have,
that I can see, is to abandon their farms in time, and
try to save a remnant. Things will come to their true
level presently, but, not afore the auld stock o' fiarmers
are crushed past rising again. And then I little wat
what's to come o' ye ; for an we herds get the land, we
wmna employ you as our shepherds,— that you may
depend on."

<< Well, Andrew, these are curious facts that you tell
me about the land having all changed occupiers about
a certain period. I wish you could have stated the
causes with certainty. Was there not a great loss on
this farm once, when it was said the bum was so
dammed up with dead carcasses that it changed its
course ?"

<< Ay, but that's quite a late story. It happened in
my own day, and I believe mostly through mischance.
.That was the year Rob Dodds was lost in the Eamey
C!leuch. I remember it, but cannot tell what year it
was, for I was but a little bilsh of a callant then."

" Who was Rob Dodds ? I never heard of the inci-
pient before."

<< Ay, but your father remembered it weel ; for he
aent a' his men mony a day to look for the corpse, but
s' to nae purpose. I'll never forget it ; for it made an
impression on me sae deep that I couldna get rest

ROB ixmDs. 19

i* my bed for months and days. He was a yoong hand-
some bonny lad, an honest man's only son, and was
herd wi' Tam Lint<»i in the BirkhilL The Lintons
wetfb sair come down then ; for this Tam was a herd,
and had Rob hired as his assistant. Weel, it sae happened
diat Tarn's wife had occasion to cross the wild heights
atween the Biridiill and Tweedsmuir, to see her mo>
diery or sister, on some express ; and Tam sent the
yomig man wi' her to see her ower Donald's Clench
Edge. It was in the middle o' winter, and, if I mind
ri^it, this time sixty years. At the time they set out,
the morning was calm, frosty, and threatening snaw,
but the ground clear of it. Rob had orders to set his
nustress to the height, and return home ; but by the
time they had got to the height, the snaw had come cm,
so the good lad went all the way through Guemshope
with her, and in sight of the water o* Fruid. He crossed
all the wildest o' the heights on his return in safety;
and on the Middle-End, west of Loch-Skene, he met
with Robin Laidlaw, that went to the Highlands and
grew a great farmer after that. Robin was gathering
the Polmoody ewes ; and as they were neighbours, and
both herding to ae master, Laidlaw testified some an-
xiety lest the young man shoidd not find his way hame ;
fcM* the blast had then come on very severe. Dodds
leugh at him, and said, ' he was nae mair feared for find-
ing the gate hame, than he was for finding the gate te

•J

20 THE shepherd's CALENDAR. I

f

his mouth when he was hungry.' — < Weel, w^l/ quo'
Robin, < keep the band o' the hill a' theway,for I}iae seen
as clever a fellow waured on sic a day ; and be sure to
hund the ewes out o' the Brand Law Scores as -ye gang
by.' — < Tammy charged me to bring a backfu' o' peats
wi' me,' said he ; ^ but I think I'll no gang near the
peat stack the day.' — ^ Na,' quo' Robin, < I think ye'll
no be sae mad I' — < But, O man,' quo' the l^d, ^ hae ye
ony bit bread about your pouches ; for I'm imco hungry?
The wife was in sic a hurry that I had to come away
without getting ony breakfast, and I had sae far to gang
wi' her, that I'm grown imco toom i' the inside.'— •< The
fient ae inch hae I, Robie, my man, or ye should hae
had it,' quo' Laidlaw. — < But an that be the case, gang
straight hame, and never heed the ewes, come o* them
what wilL' — ' O there's nae fear I' said he, < I'll turn
the ewes, and be hame in good time too.' And with
that he left Laidlaw, and went down the Middle-Craig-
£nd, jumping and playing in a frolicsome way ower his
stick. He had a large lang nibbit staff in his hand,
which Laidlaw took particular notice of, thinking it
would be a good help for the young man in the rough
way he had to gang.

« There was never another word about the matter
till that day eight days. The storm having increased
to a terrible drift, the snaw had grown very deep, and
the herds, wha lived about three miles sindry, hadna

BOB D0DD6. 21

met for a' that time. But that day Tam Linton and
Robin Laidlaw met at the Tail Born ; and after cnuJc-
mg a lang time thither, Tam says to the tither, just
as it war by chance, * Saw ye naething o' our yomig
dinnagood this day eight days, Robin ? He gaed awa
that mcmiing to set om* g^dewife ower the height, and
has nerer sin' that time lookit near me, the careless
nscair

^ < Tam Linton, what's that you're saying ? what's
that I hear ye saying, Tam Linton?' quo' Robin, wha
was dung clean stupid wi' horror. < Hae ye neTer
seen Rob Dodds sin' that moining he gaed away wi*
your wife ?'

<< < Na, nerer,' quo' the tither.

<< < Why then, sir, let me tell ye, youll never see
lum again in this world alive,' quo' Robin ; < for he left
me on the Middle-End on his way hame that day at
eleven o'clock, just as the day was coming to the warst.
— ^But, Tam Linton, what was't ye war saying ? Ye're
telling me what canna be tme^-Do ye say that ye hae«
na seen Rob Dodds sin' that day ?'

<< < Haena I tauld ye that I hae never seen his fiace
sinsyne ?' quo' Linton.

^ < Sae I hear ye saying,' quo' Robin again. ^ But
ye're telling me a downright made lee. The thing's
no possible ; for ye hae the very staff i' your hand that
he had in his, when he left me in the drift that day.'

22 THE shepherd's calendar.

^ < I ken naething about sticks or staves, Robin
Laidlaw,' says Tarn, looking rather like ane catched in
an ill turn. ^ The staff wasna likely to come hame
without the owner ; and I can only say, I hae seen nae
mair o' Rob Dodds sin' that morning ; ' and I had
thoughts that, as the day grew sae ill, he had hadden
forrit a' the length wi' our wife, and was biding wi* her
folks a* this time to bring her hame again when the
storm had settled.'

<< < Na, na, Tam, ye needna get into ony o' thae
lang-windit stories wi' me,' quo' Robin. < For I tell
ye, that's the staff Rob Dodds had in his hand when
I last saw him ; so ye have either seen him dead or li-
ving— I'll gie my oath to that.'

^< < Ye had better take care what ye say, Robin Laid-
law,' says Tam, very fiercely, * or I'll maybe make ye
blithe to eat in your words again.'

<< < What I hae said, I'll stand to, Tam Linton,' saya
Robin. — ' And mair than that,' says he, ^ if that young
man has come to an imtimely end, I'll see his blood
required at yotir hand.'

<< Then there was word sent away to the Hope-
house to his parents, and ye may weel ken, master,
what heavy news it was to them, for Rob was their
only son ; they had gien him a good education, and
muckle muckle they thought o' him ; but naething wad
serve him but he wad be a shepherd. His &tfaer

BOB DODDS. 23

came wi' the maist pairt o' Ettrick pariah at his back ;
and mony sharp and threatening words past atween
him and linton ; but idiat could they make o't ? The
lad was lost, and nae Utw, nor nae revenge, could
restore him again ; sae they had naething for t, but to
8|nead athwart a' the hills loddng for the corpse* The
baill oonntry rase for ten miles round, on ane or twa
good days ihaA happened ; but the snaw was still lying,
and a' their looking was in vain. Tam Linton wad look
nane. He took the dorts, and never heeded the folk
mair than they hadna been there. A' that height
atween Loch-Skene and the Birkhill was just moving
wi' folk for the space o* three weeks ; for the twa auld
folk, the lad's parents, couldna get ony rest, and folk
sympathized unco mudkle wi' them. At length the
snaw gaed maistly away, and the weather turned fine,
and I gaed out ane o' the days wi' my father to look
for the body. But, aih wow I I was a feared wight I
whenever I saw a bit sod, or a knowe, or a grey stane,
I stood still and trembled for fear it was the dead man,
and no ae step durst I steer farther, till my father gaed
up to a' thae things. I gaed nae mair back to look for
the corpse ; for I'm sure if we had found the body I
wad hae gane out o' my judgment.

^ At length every body tired o' looking, but the auld
man himselL He travelled day after day, ill weather
and good weathefi without intermission. They

24 THE shepherd's calendar.

it was the waesomest thing ever was seen, to see that
aold grey-headed man gaun sae lang hy himsell, look-
ing for the corpse o' his only son I The maist part o*
his friends advised him at length to give np the search,
as the finding o* the hody seemed a thing a'thegither
hopeless. But he declared he wad look for his son till
the day o* his death ; and if he could hut find his hones,
he woidd carry them away from the wild moors, and
lay them in the grave where he was to lie himselL Tarn
Linton was apprehended, and examined afore the She-
riff; hut nae -proof could he led against him, and he
wan off. He swore that, as far as he remembered, he
got the staff standing at the mouth o* the peat stack ;
and that he conceived that either the lad or himsell had
left it there some day when bringing away a burden of
peats. The shepherds' peats had not been led home
that year, and the stack stood on a hill-head, half a
mile frae the house, and the herds were obliged to carry
them home as they needed them.

" But a mystery hung ower that lad's death that was
never cleared up, nor ever will a'thegither. Every
man was convinced, ia his own mind, that Linton
knew where the body was a* the time ; and also, that
the young man had not come by his death fairly. It
was proved that the lad's dog had come hame several
times, and that Tam Linton had been seen kicking it

fiae about his house; and as the dog could be nowhere

6

ROB DODDS. 25

all that time, but waiting on the body, if that had no
been concealed in some more than ordinary way, tlie
dog would at least hare been seen. At length, it was
suggested to the old man, that dead-lights always ho-
iFered over a corpse by night, if the body was left ex-
posed to the air ; and it was a fact that two drowned
men had been found in a field of whins, where the wa-
ter had left the bodies, by means of the dead-lights, a
very short while before. On the first calm night, there-
f&re^ the old desolate man went to the Merk-Side-£dge,
to the top of a high hill that overlooked all the ground
where there was ony likelihood that the body wouhi
be lying. He watched there the lee-lang night, keep-
ing his eye constantly roaming ower the broken wastes
before him ; but he never noticed the least glimmer of
the dead-lights. About midnight, however, he heard
a dog barking ; it likewise gae twa or three melancho-
ly yowls, and then ceased. Robin Dodds was con-
vinced it was his son's dog ; but it was. at such a dis-
tance, being about twa miles off, that he couldna be
sore where it was, or which o' the- hills on the oppo-
site side of the glen it was on. The second night he
kept watch on the Path Know, a hill which he sup-
posed the howling o' the dog cam frae. But that hill be-
ing all surrounded to the west and north by tremendous
ravines and cataracts, he heard nothing o' the dog. In
the course of the night, however, he saw, or fancied he

VOL. I. B

i

26 THE shepherd's calendaiu

saw, a momentary glimmer o' light, in the depth of the
great gulf immediately below where he sat ; and that
at three different times, always in ^e same place. He
now became convinced that the remains o' his son were
in the bottom of the linn, a place which he conceived
inaccessible to man ; it being so deep from the summit
where he stood, that the roar o' the waterfall only
reached his ears now and then wi* a loud whush / as if
it had been- a sound wandenng across the hills by it*
sell. But sae intent was Robin on this Willie-an-the-
wisp light, that he took landmarks frae the ae summit
to the other, to make sure o' the place ; and as soon
as daylight came, he set about finding a passage down
to the bottom of the linn. He effected this by coming
to the foot of the linn, and tracing its course backward^
sometimes wading in water, and sometimes clambering
ever rocks, till at length, with a beating heart, he reach-
ed the very spot where he had seen the Hght ; and in
the grey o* the morning, he perceived something lying
there that differed in colour from the iron-hued stones,
and rocks, of which the linn was composed. He was
in great astonishment what this could be ; for, as he
came closer on it, he saw it had no likeness to the dead
body of a man, but rather appeared to be a heap o' bed-
diothes. And what think you it turned out to be ?
for I see ye re glowring as your een were gaun to loup
eut-^ust neither more nor less than a strong mineral

BOB DODD8. 27

well ; or idiat the doctors ca' a callybit spring, a'
bonstered about wi' hei^ o' so^y, limy kind o* stuff,
that it seems had thrown out fiery Taponra i' the night*
time.

^ Howeyer, Robin, being nnable to do ony mair in
the way o' searcimigy had now nae hope left bat in
finding his dead son by some kind o' supematmal
means. Sae he determined to watch a third nighty
and that at the rery identical peat stack where it had
been said his son's staff was found. He did sae ; and
about midnight, ere ever he wist, the dog set up a
howl close beside him. He called on him by his
name, and the dog came, and fawned on his old ac-
quaintance, and whimpered, and whinged, and made
sic a wark, as could hardly hae been trowed. Robin
keepit baud o' him a' the night, and fed him wi' pieces
o' bread, and then as soon as the sun rose, he let him
gang ; and the poor affectionate creature went straight
to his dead master, who, after all, was lying in a little
green spritty hoUow, not above a musketnshot from
the peat stack. Tliis rendered the whole affur more
mysterious than ever ; for Robin Dodds himself, and
above twenty men beside, coidd all have made oath
that they had looked into that place again and again,
80 minutely, that a dead bird could not have been there
without their having seen it. However, there the body
of the youth was gott^ after having been lost for the

28 THE shepherd's calendar.

long space of ten weeks ; and not in a state of great
decay neither, for it rather appeared swollen, as if it
had heen lying among water.

<< Conjecture was now driven to great extremities
in accounting for all these circumstances. It was ma-
nifest to every one, that the body had not been all the
time in that place. But then, where had it been ? or
what coidd have been the reasons for concealing it ?
These were the puzzling considerations. There were
a bunder different things suspectit ; and mony o' them,
I dare say, a bunder miles frae the truth ; but on the
whole, Linton was sair lookit down on, and almaist
perfectly abhorred by the coimtry; for it was weel
kenn d that he had been particularly churlish and se-
vete on the young man at a' timds, and seemed to have
a peculiar dislike to him. An it hadna been the wife,
wha was a kind considerate sort of a body, if Tam had
gotten his will, it was reckoned he wad hae hungered
the lad to dead. After that, Linton left the place, and
gaed away, I watna where ; and the countiy, I believe,
came gayan near to the truth o' the story at last :

<< There was a girl in the Birkhill house at the time,
whether a daughter o' Tam's, or no, I hae forgot,
though I think otherwise. However, she durstna for
her life tell a* she kenn'd as lang as the investigation
was gaun on ; but it at last spunkit out that Rob
Dodds had got hame safe eneugh ; and that Tam got

ROB DODD8. 29

into a great rage at hiniy because he had not brought a
burden o* peats, there being none in the house. The
youth excused himself on the score of fatigue and
hunger ; but Tam sw<M:e at him, and said, < The deil
be in your teeth, gm they shall iH^ak bread, till ye
gang back out to the hill-head and bring a burden o*
peats r Dodds refused; on which Tam struck him,
and forced him away ; and he went crying and greet-
ing out at the door, but never came back. She also
told, that after poor Rob was lost, Tam tried several
times to get at his dog to fell it with a stick ; but the
creature was terrified for biro, and made its escape. I>
was therefore thought, and indeed there was little
doubt, that Rob, through £atigue and hunger, and reck-
less of death from the way he had been gnidit, went
out to the hill, and died at the peat stack, the mouth
of which was a shelter from the drifr-wind ; and that
his cruel master, conscious o' the way in ^diich he had
.used him, and dreading skaith, had trailed away the
body, and sunk it in some pool in these unfiithomable
iinns, or otherwise concealed it, wi' the intention, that
the world might never ken whether the lad was ac-
tually dead, m had absconded. If it had not been for
th^dog, from which it appears he had been unable to
conceal it, and the old man's perseverance, to whose
search there appeared to be no end, it is probable he
would never have laid the body in a place where it

so THE shepherd's CALENDAR.

could have been found* But if he had allowed it to
remain in the first place of concealment, it might have
been discovered by means of the dog, and the inten-
tional concealment of the corpse would then have been
obvious ; so that Linton all that time coidd not be quite
at his ease, and it was no wonder he attempted to fell
the dog. But where the body could have been depo-
sited, that the faithful animal was never discovered by
the searchers, during the day, for the space of ten
weeks, baffled a' the conjectures that ever could be
made*

<< The two old people, the lad^ father and mother,
jk&yer got over their loss. They nev^ held up the^
heads again, nor joined in society ony mair, except in
attending divine worship* It might be truly said o'
them, that they spent the few years that they survived
their son in constant prayer and humiliation ; but they
soon died, short while after ene anither* As for Tarn
Linton, he left this part of the country, as I told yon ;
but it was said there was a curse hung ower him and
his a' his life, and that he never mair did weeL— Thai
was the year, master, on which our hvm was dammed
wi' the dead sheep ; and in fixing the date^ you see, I
hae been led into a lang sUny, and am just nae farther
wi' the main poLut than when ] began."

'< I wish from my heart, Andrew, that you would
try to fibc a great many old dates in the same manner ;

ROB DODDS. 31

for I confess I «n more interested in your lang stories,
than in either your lang prayers^ or yoiv lang sermons
about r^ientanee and amendment. Bat pray, yo«
were talking of the judgments that orertook Tarn Lin*
ton — ^Was that the same Tarn lanton that was preci-
pitated from the Brand Law by the break of a snaw-
wreath, and he and all his sheep jammed into the hi-
deous golf, called the Grey Mare's Tail ?*"

*^ Hie Tery same, sir ; and that might be acooontit
ane o' ihe first judgments tlurt befell him ; for there
were many of his aia sheep in the flodc Tam assert-
ed all his life, that he went into the linn along with
his hirs^ but no man ever b^eved him ; for there
was not one ^ the sheep came out alive, and how it
was possible for the carl to have come safe out, nae-
body could see. It was, indeed, quite impossible ; for
it had been such a break of snaw as had scarcely ever
been seen. The gulf was crammed sae fii', that ane
could bae gane ower it like a pendit brig ; and no a
single sheep could be gotten out, either dead or li-
ving. When the thaw came, the bum wrought a pass-
age for itself below the snaw, but the arch stood till
summer. I have heard my father oft describe the ap-
pearance of that vault as he saw it on his way from
Moffat fair. Ane hadna gane far into it, he said, till it
turned darkish, like an ill-hued twilight ; and sic a like
ardi o* carnage be never saw I There were limbs o*

32 THE shepherd's calendar.

Rheep hinging in a* directions, the snaw was wedged
sae firm. Some entire carcasses hung by the neck,
some by a spauld ; then there was a haill forest o' legs
sticking out in ae place, and horns in another, terribly
mangled and broken; and it was a'thegither sic a
frightsome^looking place, that he was blithe to get
out o't again."

After looking at the sheep, tasting old Janet's best
kebbuck, and oatmeal cakes, and preeing the whisky
bottle, the young farmer again set out through the
deep snow, on his way home. But Andrew made him
promise, that if the^ weather did not amend, he would
come back in a few days and see how the poor sheep
were coming on ; and, as an inducement, promised to
tell him a great many old anecdotes of the shepherd s
life.

AlK ADAMSON OF L AVER HOPE. :l:i

CHAPTER IL

. MR AJ>AMSON OF LAVERUOPE.

One of those events that have made, the deepest
impression on the shepherds' minds for a century by-
gone, seems to have been the fate of Mr Adamson,
who was tenant in Laverhope for the space of twenty-
seven years. It stands in their calendar as an era
irmn which to date sunmer floods, water spouts, hail
and thunder-storms, &c. ; and appears from tradition
to have been attended with some awful circumstances,
expressive of divine vengeance. This Adamson is re-
presented, as having been a man of an ungovernable
temper-^f irritabiHty so extreme, that no person
could be for a moment certain to what excesses he
might be hurried. He was otherwise accounted a
good and upright man, and a sincere Christian ; but in
these outbreakings of temper he often committed actM
of cruelty and injustice, for which any good man
ought to have been ashamed. Among other qualities,
he had an obliging disposition, there being few to

b2

34 THE shepherd's calendar.

whom a poor man would sooner have applied in a
strait. Accordingly, he had been in the habit of as-
sisting a less wealthy neighbour of his with a little
credit for many years. This man's name was Imne^
and though he had a number of rich relations, he was
never out of difficulties* Adamson, from some whim
or caprice, sued this poor farmer for a few hundred
merks, taking legal steps against him, even to the very
last measures short of poinding and imprisonment.
Irvine paid little attention to this, taking it for granted
that his neighbour took these steps only for the pur-
pose of inducing his debtor's friends to come forward
and support hini.

It happened one day about this period, that a ihot^tr
less boy, belonging to Irvine's farm, hunted Adamson b
cattle in a way that gave great offence to their owner,
on which the two fiarmers differed, and some hard
words passed between them. The next day Irvine
was seized and thrown into jail ; and shortly after, has
effects were poinded, and sold by auction for ready
money. They were consequently thrown away, as
the neighbours, not having been forewarned, were
wholly unprovided with ready money, and unable to
purchase at any price. Mrs Irvine came to the en-
raged creditor with a child in her arms, and implored
liim to put off the sale for « month, that she might
try isrhat could be done amongst her friends to prevent

im ADAtfSON OF LAVCRUOPS. 35

a wredc so irretrieTable. He was at one time on the
veiy pomt of yieldmg ; but sOlne bitter recollectioiMi
ooming ova* his mind, at the moment, stimulated his
spleen against her husband, and he resolyed that the
sale dionld go on* William Carmders of Grindistoo
beard the foUowing dialogue between them ; and he
said that his heart almost trembled within him ; for
Mrs Irvine was a violent woman, and her eloquence
did more harm than good.

" Ave ye veally gann to act the part of a devil, the
day, Mr Adnnson, and turn me and thae bairns out to
the bore high-road, hdpless as we are ? Oh, man, if
yoBT bowels binna seared in hell-fire already, take some
compassion ; for an ye dinna, they wUl be seared afore
bakh men and angels yet, till that hard and cruel heart
o' yours be nealed to an izle.**

« Fm gaun to act nae part of a devil, Mrs Irvine ;
Vm only gaun to take my ain in the only way I caa^
get it. . Fm no baith gaun to tine my siller, and hae
my beasts abused into the bargain."

<< Ye sail neither lose plack nor bawbee o' your
ttller, man,. if ye will gie me but a. month to make a
shift for it— I swear to you, ye sail neither lose, nor
me the deedir But if ye winna grant me that wee
wee while, when the bread of a iiaill family depends
on it, ye're waur than ony deil that^s yammering and
em:sing T the bottomless pit"

36 THE siibpheud's calendar.

" Keep your ravings to yoursell, Mrs Irvine, for I
hae made up my mind what Tm to do; and Til do it;
sae it's heedless for ye to pit yoursell into a bleeze ;
for the surest promisers are aye the slackest payers.
It isiia likely that your bad language will gar me alter
my purpose."

" If that be your purpose, Mr Adamson, and if you
put that purpose in execution, I wadna change condi-
tions wi' you the day for ten thousand times a' the
gear ye are' worth. Ye*re gaim to do the thing that
ye'll repent only aince — for a* the time that ye hae to
exist baith in this world and the neist, and that's a
lang lang look forrit and ayohd. Ye have assisted a
poor honest family for the purpose of taking' them at
a disadvantage, and crushing them to beggars ; and
when ane thinks o' that, what a heart you must hae I
Ye hae first put my poor man in prison, a place where
he little thought, and less deserved, ever to be ; and
now ye are reaving his sackless family out o' their last
bit o' bread. Look at this bit bonny innocent thing
in my arms, how it is smiling on ye I Look at a' the
rest standing leaning against the wa's, ilka ahe wi' his
een fixed on you by way o' imploring your pity I If
ye reject thae looks, ye'll ^ee them again in some try-
ing moments, that will bring this ane back to your
mind ; ye will see them i* your dreams ; ye will see
them on your death-bed, and ye will think ye see

MR ADAMSON OF LAVKRHOP& 37

them gleaming on ye through the reek o* hell, — bat it
'wimia be them,"

** Hand your longae, woman, for ye make me feared
to hear ye."

*< Ay, but better be feared in time, than torfelled
for ever ! Better conqness your bad humour for aince,
than be conquessed for it through sae mony lang ages.
Ye pretend to be a reUgioua man, Mr Adamson, and
a great deal mair sae than your neighbours— do yon
' think that religion teaches you acts o' cruelty like^tliis ?
Will ye hae the face to kneel afore your Maker the
night, and pray for a blessing on you and yours, and that
He will foigive you your debts as you forgire your
debtors ? I hae nae doubt but ye will. But aih I how
sic an appeal will heap the coals o' divine yengeance
on your head, and tighten the belts o' burning yettlin
ower your hard heart I Come forrit, bairns, and speak
for yoursells, ilk ane o' ye."

^< O, Maister Adamson, ye mannna turn my father
and mother out o' their house and their farm ; or what
think ye is to come o' us ?** said Thomas.

No ccmsideration, however, was strong enough to
turn Adamson from his purpose. The sale went on ;
and still, on the calling off of every favourite animal,
Mrs Irvine renewed her anathemas.

<< Gentlemen, this is the mistress's favourite cow,
and gives thirteen pints of milk every day. She is

38 THE SHEPHERD S CALENDAR.

valued in my rovp-roll at fifteen jiounds ; bat we sbaU
begin ber at ten. Does any body say ten pounds for
this excellent cow ? ten pounds-*— ten poonds ? No-
body says ten pounds ? Gentlemen, this is extiuor-
dinary I Money is surely a scarce article here to-day.
Well, then, does any gentleman say five pounds to
begin this excellent cow that gives twelve pints of
milk daily ? /Five ponnds-M>nly five pounds I— -No-
body bids five pounds ? Well, the stock must posir
^ tively be sold without reserve. Ten shillings for the
cow'-'^ten shiUipgs—ten shillingB«-*-Will nobody bid
ten dhiilings to set the sale a-going ?**

" m gie five-and-twenty shillings fw her," cried
Adamson.

<< Hiank you, sir. One pound five^-^one pfnmd five>
and just a-going. Once — twice— Mrice. Mr Adam-
son, one pound five." ■- ■

Mrs Irvine came forward, drowned in tears, with
the babe in her arms, and patting the cow^ she said,
'< Ah, poor lady Bell, this is my last sight o' you,
and the last time I'll clap your honest side I And hae
we really been deprived o' your support for the mi-
serable sum o' five-and-twenty shillings? — my curse
light on the head o' him that has done it I In the name
of my destitute bairns I curse him ; and does he think
that a mother's curse will sink fizzenless to the ground ?
Na, na I I see an ee that's locking down here in pity

MR ADAMSON OF LAVERHOPE. 39

and in anger ; and I 9ee a hand that's gathering the
hfAta o' HeaTen thegither, for some purpose that I
eoold divine, hut danma utter* But that hand is an-
eniBg, and where ft throws the boh, there it will strike.
Fareweel, poor beast I ye hae supplied ns wi^ mony a
inesl, but ye will nerer supply ns wi' another***

Hhs sale at Kirkhengh was on the 11th of July.
On the day following^ Mr Adamson went up to the
folds in the hope, to shear his sheep, with no fewer
than tweoty'^ve attendants, consisting of all his own
seryants and cottars, and about as many neighbouring
ihepherds whom he had collected ; it being customary
for the iJEumers to assjst one pother reciprocally on
these occasions. Adamson continued more than usu-
aDy capricious and unreasonable all that forenoon. He
W9S discontented with himself; and when a man is ill
pleased with himself, he is seldom well pleased with
othefs. He seemed altogether left to the influences of
ihe Wicked One, running about in a rage, finding fault
witli every thing, and every person, and at times cur*
ong bitterly, a practice to which he was not addicted ;
90 that the sheep-shearing, that used to be a scene of
hilarity among so many young and old shepherds, lads,
lasses, wives, and callants, was that day turned into
oae of gloom and dissatisfaction.

After a number of other provoking outrages, Adam^
son at length, with the buiBting-iron which he held in

40 THE SHEPUEUD's CALENDAR.

his handy struck a dog helonging to one of his own
shepherd hoys, till the poor animal fell senseless on the
ground, and lay sprawling as in the last extremity.
This brought matters to a point which threatened no-
thing but anarchy and confusion ; for every shepherd's
blood boiled with indignation, and each almost wished
in his heart that the dog had been his own, that he
might have retaliated on the tyrant. At the time the
blow was struck, the boy was tending one of the fold-
doors, and perceiving the p%ht of his faithful animal,
he ran to its assistance, lifted it in his arms, and hold-
ing it up to recover its breath, he wept and lamented
over it most piteously. " My poor little Nimble !"
he cried ; ^^ I am feared that mad body has killed ye,
and then what am I to do wanting ye ? I wad ten
times rather he had strucken mysell !*'

He had scarce said the words ere his master caught
him by the hair of the head with the one hand, and be-
gan to drag him about, while with the other he struck
him most unmercifully. When the boy left the fold-
door, the imshom sheep broke out, and got away, to
the hill among the lambs and the clippies; and the far-
mer being in one of his <^ mad tantrums," as the ser-
vants called them, the mischance had almost put him
beside himself; and that boy, or man either, is in a
ticklish case who is in the hands of an enraged person
far abdve him in strength.

MR ADAMSON OF LAVERHOPE.- 41

The sheep-shearers paused, and the girls screamed,
when they saw their master lay hold of the boy. Bat
Robert Johnston, a shepherd from an adjoining fiurm*
flung the sheep from his knee, made the shears ring
against the fold-dike, and in an instant had the farmer
by both wrists, and these he heki with snch a grasp,
that he took the power out of his arms ; for Johnston
was as far above the farmer in might, as the letter was
above the boy.

'< Mr Adamson, what are ye abont?" he cried;
" hae ye tint yonr reason a'thegither, that ye are gaon
on rampauging like a madman that gate ? Ye hae done
the thing, sir, in yonr iU-timed rage, that ye onght to
be ashamed of baith afore God and man.'*

<< Are ye for fighting, Rob Johnston?" said the
fanner, struggling to free himself. '^ Do ye want to
hae a fight, lad ? Because if ye do, I-ll maybe gie you
mough o' that."

^ Na, sir, I dinnia want to fight ; but I winna let yon
fight either, unless wi' ane that's your equal ; sae gie
ower spraughling, and stand still till I speak to ye ; for
an ye winna stiand to hear reason^ T\\ gar ye lie till ye
hear it. Do ye consider what ye hae been doing even
now ? Do ye consider that ye hae been striking a poos*
orphan callant, wha has neither fathier nor mother to
protect him, or to right his tirrangs ? and a' for naething,
but a bit start o' natural affection ? How wad ye like

42 THE shepherd's CAIiENDAR.

sir, an ony body were to gtiide a bairn o' yours that
gate ? .and ye as little ken what they are to come to
af<»B their deaths, as that boy's parents did when they
were rearing and fondling ower him. Fie for shame^
Mr Adamson ! £e for shame I Ye first strak his po<ff
dtunb brute, which was a greater sin than thetithery
for it didna ken what ye were striking it for ; and then^
because the callant ran to assist the only creature he
has on the earth, and Fm feared the <Hdy true and
faitfafii' Mend beside, ye claught him by the hair o' the^
bead, and fell to tfaedadding him as he war your slave I
Od, sur, my blood rises at sic an act o* cruelty and in*
justice ; and gin I thought ye worth my while, I wad
tan ye like a pellet for it*"

The farmer struggled and fought so viciously, that
Johnston was obliged to throw him down twice over/
somewhat roughly, and hold him by main force. But
on laying him down the second time, Johnston aaid^
** Now, sir, I just tell ye, that ye deserve to hae your
banes weel throoshen ; but ye're nae mal^ for m^
and 111 scorn to lay a tip on ye, Fl} leave ye to Him
niioJiaa declared himself the stay jond. shield of the
orphan; and gin some visible testimony o' his dispLeap
sure dinna come ower ye for the abusing of his ward,
I am right sair mistaken."

Adamson, finding himself fairly mastered, and that
no one seemed disposed to take his part, was obliged

MR ADAMSON OF LAVERUOFB. 43

to give in, and went sullenly away to tend the hinei
that stood beside the fold. In the mA^ntimf^ the sheep*
liifimng went on as before, with a little more of hilarity
sod glee. It is the business of the lasses to take the
ewes, and carry them from the fold to the clippers ;
and now might be seen every young shepherd's sweet-
hearty or h,Yowntef waiting beside him^ helping him to
dip, or holding the ewes by the hind legs to make
Ibem lie easy , a great matter for the furtherance of the
sperator. Others again, who thought themselves
digfated, or loved a joke, would continue to act in a
di&rait manner, and plague the youths by bringing
them such sheep as it was next to impossible to dip.

^< Aih, Jock lad, I hae brought you a grand ane tfaia
tunel Ye will dank the shears ow^ her, and be the
fim done o' them, a' I"

^ My truly, Jessy, but ye hae gi*en me ane I I de*
dare the beast b woo to the doots and the een holes ;
and albre I gijBt the fleece broken up, the rest will bo
dooew Ah, Jessy, Jessy I ye're working for a nusduef
die day ; and yell maybe get it.**

^ She's a baw sonsie sheep, Jodc I ken ye like
to hae your ^rms wed filled. She'll amaist fill them
SB weel as Tibby Tod«"

"^ Th^e's for it nowl there's for it! What care I
for Tibby Tod, dame? Ye are the most jedous el(
Jessy, that ever drew coat ower head. But wba was't

44 THE shepherd's calendar.

that sat half a night at the side of a grey stane wi' tf
crazy cooper ? And wha was't that gae the poor pre*
centor the whiskings, and reduced a' his sharps to
downright flats ? An ye cast up Tihhy Tod ony mair
to me, I'll tell something that will gar thae wild eea
reel i' your head, Mistress Jessy,"

" Wow, Jock, but I'm unco wae for ye now. Pooif
fellow! It's really very hard usage! If ye cannft
clip the ewe, man, gie me her, and I'll tak her to ani-
ther ; for I canna bide to see ye sae sair put about. 1
winna bring ye aiiither Tibby Tod the day, take my
word on it. The neist shall be a real May Henderscxfr
o' Firthhope-cleuch — ane, ye ken, wi' lang legs, and «
good lamb at her fit."

*^ Gudesake, lassie, baud your tongue, and dimift
afiront baith yoursell and me. Ye are fit to gar ane'A
cheek bum to the bane. I'm fairly quashed, and daur-
na say anither word. Let us therefore hae let-a-be for
let-a-be, which^s good baims's greement, till after thto
close o' the day sky ; and then I'll tell ye my mind.'*

*' Ay, but whilk o* your minds will ye tell me,
Jock? For ye will be in five or six different anes
afore that time. Ane, to ken your mind, wad need to
be tauld it every hour o' the day, and then cast up the
account at the year's end. But how wad she settle it
then, Jock ? I femcy she wad hae to multiply ilk year's

Bf« ADAMSON OJF LAVERHOPE. 45

minds by dozens, and divide by four, and then we a'
ken what wad be the quotient.**

" Aih wow, sirs ! heard ever ony o* ye the like o'
that ? For three things the sheep-faold is disquieted,
and there are four which it cannot bear."

" And what are they, Jock ?'*

^< A witty wench, a woughing dog, a waukit-woo'd
wedder, and a pair o' shambling shears.*'

Afier this manner did the gleesome chat go oo, now
that the surly goodman had withdrawn from the scene.
Bat this was but one couple ; every pair being enga*
ged according to their biasses, and after their kind-
some settling the knotty points of divinity; others
telling auld-warld stories about persecutions, forays,
and fairy raids ; and some whispering, in half sen-
tences, the soft breathings of pastoral love.

But the farmer's bad humour, in the meanwhile
was only smothered, not extinguished; and, like a
flame that is kept down by an overpowering weight of
fael, wanted but a breath to rekindle it ; or like a bar-
rel of gunpowder, that the smallest spark will set in a
blaze. That spark unfortunately fell upon it too soon.
It came in the form of an old beggar, ycleped Patie
Maxwell, a well-known, and generally a welcome
guest, over all that district. He came to the folds for
his annual present of a fleece of wool, which had ne-
ver before been denied him ; and the farmer being the

46 THE shepherd's calendar.

first person he came to/ he approached him, as in
spect hound, accosting him in his wonted ohseqiiiaas
way.

" Weel, gademan, how*s a* wi* ye the day ?"— (No
answer.) — " This will he a thrang day w'ye ? Hott
are ye getting on wi* the clipping ?"

" Nae the hetter o' you, or the like o' you. Grang
away hack the gate ye came. What are ye coming
doiting up through amang the sheep that gate for,
putting them a' tersyversy ?"

*' Tut, gudemaOf what does the sheep mind an anld
creeping hody like me ? I hae done nae ill to your
pickle sheep ; and as for ganging hack the road I cam^
111 do that whan I like, and no till than.''

<< But ril make you hlithe to turn hack, auld vaga-
hond I Do ye imagine I'm gaun to hae a' my clippers
and grippers, huisters and hinders, laid half idle, gaff-
ing and giggling wi' you ?"

<^ Why, then, speak like a reasonable man, and a
courteous Christian, as ye used to do, and Tse crack
wi' yoursell, and no gang near them."

" I'll keep my Christian cracks for others than auld
Papist dogs,^ I trow."

" Wha do ye ca* auld Papist dogs, Mr Adamson ?
— ^Wha is it that ye mean to denominate by that fine-
sounding title ?"

" Just you, and the like o' ye. Pate. It is weel

MB ADAMSON OF LAVERHOPE. 47

kenn'd that ye are as rank a Papist as ever kissed a
crosier, and that ye were out in the very fore-end o*
the unnatural Rebellion, in order to subvert our reli-
^on^ and place a Popish tyrant on the throne. It is a
shame for a I^testant parish like this to support ye,
and gie you as liberal awmosses as ye were a Chris-
tian saint. For me, I can tell you, yell get nae mae
at my hand ; nor nae rebel Papist loun amang ye.**

^^ Dear sir, ye're surely no yoursell the day ? Ye
hae kenn'd I professed the Catholic religion these
thretty years—it was the faith I was brought up in,
and that in which I shall dee ; and ye kenn'd a' that
time that I was out in the Forty-Five wi' Prince
Charles, and yet ye never made mention o' the facts,
nor refused me my awmos, till the day. But as I hae
been obl^ed t ye, TU baud my tongue ; only, I wad
advise ye as a friend, whenever ye hae occasion to
speak of ony community of brother Christians, that ye
will in fature hardly make use o' siccan harsh terms.
Or, if ye will do't, tak care wha ye use them afore,
and let it no be to the face o' an auld veteran.'*

^ What, ye anld profane wafer-eater, and worship-
pa: of graven images, dare ye heave your pikit kent at
me?"

^ I hae heaved baith sword and spear against mony
a better man ; and, in the cause o' my religion, I'll do
It again.

48 THE shepherd's calendar.

He was proceeding, but Adamson's choler rising to
an ungoyemable height, he drew a race, and, running
against the gaberlunzie with his whole force, made
him fly heels-oyer-head down the hill. The old man's
bonnet flew oflF, his meal-pocks were scattered about,
and his mantle, with two or three small fleeces of wool
in it, rolled down into the bum.

The servants obserred what had been done, and one-
dderly shepherd said, ^< In troth, sirs, our master is no
himsell the day. He maun really be looked to. It
appears to me, that sin' he roupit out yon poor family
yesterday, the Lord has ta'en his guiding arm frae
about him. Rob Johnston, ye'U be obliged to rin to
the assistance of the auld man."

<< I'll trust the auld Jacobite for another shake wi'
him yet," said Rob, " afore I steer my fit; for it
strikes me, if he hadna been ta'en unawares, he wad
hardly hae been sae easily coupit."

The gaberlunzie was considerably astounded and
stupified when he first got up his head ; but finding
all his bones whole, and his old frame disencumbered
of every superfluous load, he sprung to his feet, shook
his grey burly locks, and cursed the aggressor in the
name of the Holy Trinity, the Mother of our Lord,
and all the blessed Saints above. Then approaching
him with his cudgel heaved, he warned him to be on
his guard, or make out of his reach, else he would

8

V
MR ADAMS0N OF LAVEIIHOP& 49

send him to eternity in the twinkling of an eye. Tlie
fiirmer held tip his staff across, to defend his head
against the descent of old Patie's piked kent, and, at
the same time, made a break in, with intent to dose
with his assailant ; but, in so doing, he held down his
head for a moment, on which the gaberlonzie made a
swing to one side, and lent Adamson such a blow over
tbe neck, or back part of the head, that he fell vio-
lently on his face, after running two or three steps
precipitately forward. The beggar, whose eyes gleam-
ed with wild fury, while his grey locks floated over
them like a winter cloud over two meteors of the
night, was about to follow up his blow with another
more efficient one on his prostrate foe ; but the farm-
er, perceiving these unequivocal symptoms of danger,
wisely judged that there was no time to lose in provi-
ding for his own safety, and, roiling himself rapidly
two or three times over, he got to his feet, and made
his escape, though not before Patie had hit him what
he called <^ a stiff lounder across the rumple.'*

The farmer fled along the brae, and the gaberlunzie
pursued, while the people at the fold were convulsed
with laughter. The scene was highly picturesque, for
the beggar could run none, and still the faster that he
essayed to run, he made the less speed. But ever and
anon he stood still, and cursed Adamson in the name
of one or other of the Saints or Apostles, brandishing

VOL. I. c

50 THE shepherd's CALENDAR.

his cudgel, and stamping with his foot; The other,
keeping still at a small distance, pretended to laugh
at him, and at the same time uttered such bitter abuse
against the Papists in general, and old Patie in parti-
cular, that, after the latter had cursed himself into a
proper pitch of indignation, he always broke at him
again, making vain efforts to reach him one more blow.
At length, after chasing him by these starts about half
a mile, the beggar returned, gathered up the scattered
implements and fruits of his occupation, and came to
the fold to the busy group.

Patie's general character was that of a patient, jo-
cular, sarcastic old man, whom people liked, but da-
red not much to contradict ; but that day his manner
and mien had become so much altered, in consequence

of the altercation and conflict which had just taken

«

place, that the people were almost frightened to look
at him ; and as for social converse, there was none to
be had with him. His countenance was grim, haughty,
and had something Satanic in its lines and deep wrinkles ;
and eyer and anon, as he stood leaning against the
fold, he uttered a kind of hollow growl, with a broken
interrupted sound, like a war-horse neighing in his
sleep, and then muttered curses on the farmer.

The old shepherd before-mentioned, ventured, at
length, to caution him against such profanity, saying,
^ Dear Patie, man> dinna sin away your soul, venting

MR ADAMSON OF LAVERHOPE. 51

siccan curses as these. Hiey will a' turn back on your
ain head ; for what harm can the curses of a poor sin-
fu' worm do to our master ?**

^ My curse, sn*, has blasted the hopes of better men
than either you or him," said the gaberlunzie, in an
earthcpiake voice, and shivering with vehemence as he
spoke. ^ Ye may think the like o' me can hae nae
power wi' Heaven ; but an I hae power wi' hell, it is
sufficient to cow ony that*s here. I sanna brag what
effect my curse will have, but I shall say this, that
either your master, or ony o* his men, had as good have
anld Patie MarwelFs blessing as his curse ony time,
Jacobite and Koman Catholic though he be.**

It now became necessary to bring into the fold the
sheep that the farmer was tending ; and they were the
last hirsel that was to shear that day. The farmer's
face was reddened with ill-nature ; but yet he now
appeared to be somewhat humbled, by reflecting on
the ridiculous figure he had made. Patie sat on the
top of the fold-dike, and from the bold and hardy as-
severations that he made, he seemed disposed to pro-
voke a dispute with any one present who chose to
take np the cudgels. While the shepherds, imder fire
of the' gaberlunzie's bitter speeches, were sharping
their shears, a thick black cloud began to rear itself
over the height to the southward, the front of which
seemed to be boiling — ^both its outsides rolling rapidly

52 THE shepherd's calendar.

forward^ and again wheeling in toward the centre. I
have heard old Robin Johnston, the stout young man
mentioned above, but who was a very old man when
I knew him, describe the appearance of the cloud as
greatly resembling a whirlpool made by the eddy of a
rapid tide, or flooded river ; and he declared, to his
dying day, that he never saw aught in nature have a
more ominous appearance. The gaberlunzie was the
first to notice it, and drew the attention of the rest to-
wards that point of the heavens by the following sin-
gular and profane remark : — << Aha, lads ! see what's
coming yonder. Yonder's Patie Maxwell's curse co-
ming rowing and reeling on ye already; and what
will ye say an the curse of God be coming backing
it?"

" Gudesake, baud your tongue, ye profane body ; ye
mak me feared to hear ye," said one. — " It's a strange
delusion to think that a Papish can hae ony influence
wi' the Almighty, either to bring down his blessing or
his curse."

" Ye speak ye ken nae what, man," answered Pate ;
" ye hae learned some rhames firae your poor cauld-rife
Protestant Whigs about Papists, and Antichrist, and
children of perdition ; yet it is plain that ye haena ae
spark o' the life or power o' religion in your whole
frame, and dinna ken either what's truth or what's false-
hood.^-Ah ! yonder it is coming, grim and gurly ! Now

M II ADAMSON OF LAVERHOPE. 53

I hae called for it, and it is coming, let me see if a' the
Protestants that are of ye can order it back, or pray it
away again I Down on your knees, ye dogs, and set
your mou's up against it, like as many spiritual cannon,
and let me see if you have influence to turn aside ane
o' the faailstanes tliat the deils are flaying at chucks wi'
in yon dark chamber I'*

*^ I wadna wonder if our clipping were cuttit short,"
said one.

^< Na, but I wadna wonder if something else were
cuttit shdrt,'' said Patie ; << What will ye say an some
o' your weaasons be cuttit short ? Hurraw I yonder it
comes ! Now, there will be sic a hurly-burly in La-
verhope as neyer was sin' the creation o' man !''

The folds of Larerhope were situated on a gently
sloping plain, in what is called << the fm-kings of a bum.'*
Laver-bum runs to the eastward, and Widehope-bum
runs north, meeting the other at a right angle, a little
below the folds. It was around the head of this Wide-
hope that the cloud first made its appearance, and there
its vortex seemed to be impending. It descended lower
and lower, with uncommon celerity, for the elements
were in a turmoiL The cloud laid first hold of one
height, then of another, till at length it closed oyer and
around the pastoral group, and the dark hope had the
appearance of a huge chamber hung with sackcloth.
The big clear drops of rain soon began to descend, on

54< THE shepherd's calendar.

which the shepherds cohered up the wool with hlankets,
then huddled together under their plaids at tlie side pf
the foldy to eschew the speat, which they saw was g<^
ing to he a terrihle one. Patie still kept undauntedly
to the top of the dike, and Mr Adamson stood cower-
ing at the side of it, with his plaid over his head, at a
little distance from the rest. The haU and rain min-
gled, now began to descend in a way that had been s^-
dom witnessed ; but it was apparent to them all that
the tempest raged with much greater fury in Widehope-
head to the southward. — Anon a whole volume of light-
ning burst firom the bosom of the darkness, and quivered
through the gloom, dazzling the eyes of every b^H)ld-
er ;^even old Maxwell clapped both his hands on las
eyes for a space ; a crash of thimder followed the fladi,
that made all the mountains chatter, and shook the fir-
mament so, that the density of the cloud was broken
up ; for, on the instant that the thunder ceased, a niah-
ing sound began in Widehope, that soon increased to a
loudness equal to the thunder itself; but it resembled
the noise made by the sea in a storm. ^' Holy Virgin I"
exclaimed Patie Maxwell, *< What is this ? What is
this ? I declai'e we're a' ower lang here, for the dams
of heaven are broken up ;" and with that he flung him-
self from the dike, and fled toward the top of a rising
ground. He knew that the sound proceeded from the
descent of a tremendous waternspout ; but the rest, not

M& ADAMSON OF LAVSRHOPB. 55

conceiving what it was, remained where they were.
The storm increased every minute, and in less than a
qi^art^ of an hoar after the retreat of the gaberlonzie,
they heard him calling out with the utmost earnestness ;
and when they eyed him, he was jumping Hke a mad-
man mk the top of the hillock, waving his honnet, and
screaming omt, ^^ Ran, ye deil's buckies I Run for your
bore lives I" One of the shepherds, jumping up on the
dike, to see what was the matter, beheld the bum of
Widdiope coming down in a manner that could be
compared to nothiag but an ocean, whose boundaries
had given way, descending into the abyss. It came with
a cataract front more than twenty feet deep, as was
afterwards ascertained by measurement ; for it left suf-
ident marks to enable men to do this with precision.
The shepherd called £or assistance, and leaped into the
Md to drive out the sheep ; and just as he got the fore-
most of them to take the door, the flood came upon the
liead of the fold, on which he threw himself over the
aide-wall, and esciq^ in safety, as did all the rest of
the people.

. Not so Mr Adamson's ewes ; the greater part of the
fairsel being involved in this mighty current. The
large. fi^d nearest the bum was levelled with the earth
in one second. Stones, ewes, and sheep-house, all were
earned bdere it, and all seemed to bear the same
weight. It must have been a dismal sight, to see so

56 THE shepherd's calendar*

many fine animals tumbling and rolling in one irresist-
ible mass. They, were strong, however, and a few
plmiged out, and made their escape to the eastward ;
a greater number were carried headlong down, and
thrown out on the other side of Laver-bum, upon the
sjide of a dry hill, to which they all escaped, some of
^em considerably maimed ; but the greatest nimiber
of all were lost, being overwhelmed among the rubbish
of the fold,. and entangled so among the falling dikes,
and. the torrent wheeling and boiling amongst them,
that escape was impossible. The wool .was totally
sw;ept away, and all either lost, or so much spoiled,
that, when afterwards recovered, it was imsaleable.
. When first the flood broke in among the sheep, an<i
the. women began to run screaming to the hills, and the
despairing shepherds to fly about, unable to do any
thing, Patie began a-laughing with a loud and hellish
gufifaw, and in that he continued to indulge till quite
exhausted. << Ha, ha, ha, ha I what think ye o' the
auld beggar's curse now? Ha, ha, ha, ha I I think it
has been backit wi' Heaven's and the deil's baith. Ha^
ha, ha, ha !" And then he mimicked the thunder with
the most outrageous and ludicrous jabberings, turning
occasionally up to the cloud streaming with lightning
imd hail, and calling out,— .<< Louder yet, deils ! louder
yet I Kindle up. your crackers, and yerk away I Rap,
rap, rap, rap — Ro-ro, ro, ro — Roo— Whush,"

MR ADAM80N OF LAVERHOPE. 57

<< I daresay that body's the vera deeril himsell in the
shape o* the auld Papish beggar !" said one, not think-
ing that Patie conld hear at such a distance.

«< Na, na, lad, I'm no the deH" cried he in answer ;
^ but an I war, I wad let ye see a stramash ! It is a
sublime thing to be a Roman Catholic amang sae mony
weak apostates ; but it is a sublimer thing still to be a
deil— a master-spirit in a forge like yon. Ha, ha, ha,
ha I Take care o' your heads, ye cock-chickens o' Cal-
vin— ^take care o' the auld Coppersmith o' the Black
Cluddr

' From llie moment that the first thunder-bolt shot
from the doud, the countenance of the farmer was
changed. He was manifestly alarmed in no ordinary
degree; and when the flood came rushing from the dry
mountains, and took away his sheep and his folds be-
f<Nre his eyes, he became as a dead man, making no ef-
fort to save his store, or to give directions how it might
be done. He ran away in a cowering posture, as he
had been standing, and took shelter in a little green hol-
low, out of his servants* view.

The thunder came nearer and nearer the place where
the astonished hinds were, till at length they perceived
the bolts of flame striking the earth around them, in
every direction ; at one time tearing up its bosom, and
at another splintering the rocks. Robin Johnston, in
describing it, said, that << the thunnerbolts came shim-

c2

58 THE shepherd's gauqndar.

mering out o* the cludd sae thick, that they appeared
to he linkit thegither, and fleeing in a' direction^.
There war some o' them hlue, some o' them red, and
some o' them like the colom: o* the lowe of a eandle ;
some o' them diving into the earth, and some o' them
springing np out o' the earth and darting into the
heayen/' I cannot Touch for the truth of this, hut I am
sure my informer thought it true, or he would not have
told it ; and he said farther, that when old Maxwell
saw it, he cried — '< Fie, tak care, cuhs o' hell I fie, tak
care I cower laigh, and sit sicker ; for your auld dam is
aboon ye, and aneath ye, and a' round about ye. O
for a good wat nurse to spean ye, like John Adamson's
lambs I Ha, ha, ha V* — The lambs, it must be observed,
had been turned out of the fold at first, and none of
them perished with their dams.

But just when the storm was at the height, and ap-
parently passing the boimds ever witnessed in theso
northern climes ; when the embroiled elements were
in the state of hottest convulsion, and when our little
pastoral group were every moment expecting the next
to be their last, all at once a lovely << blue bore," frin-
ged with downy gold, opened in the doud behind, and
in five minutes more the sim again appeared, and all
was beauty and serenity. What a contrast to the scene
so lately witnessed I

The most remarkable circumstance of the whole

MR ADABfSON OF LAVE&HOPE. 69

was^peilu^s the contrast between the two burns. The
bum of Layerhope never changed its colour, but con*
tiniied pure, limpid, and so shallow, that a boy mi§^
haTB stepped over it dry-shod, all the while that the
other bncn was coming in upon it like an ocean broken
loose, and carrying all before it. In mountainous dis-
tricts, howeror, instances of the same kind are not in-
frequent in times of summer speats* Some other dr^
comstances omnected with tins storm, were also de-
scribed to me : The storm coming from the south, over
a low-lying, wooded, and populous district, the whole
of the crows inhabiting it posted away up the glen of
Larerhope to avoid the fire and fury of the tempest.
** Thore were thoosands and thoosands came up by us,**
said Robin, << a' laying theirsells out as they had been
mad. And then, whanever the bright bolt played flash
through the darkness, ilk ane o' them made a dive and
a wheel to avoid the shot : For I was persuaded that
they thought a' the artillery and musketry o* the haill
coomtry were loosed on them, and that it was time for
them to tak the gate. There were likewise several
colly dogs can^e by us in great extremity, hinging out
their tongues, and looking aye ower their shouthers,
rinning straight on they kenn'dna where ; and amang
other things, there was a black Highland cow came
roaring up the glen, wi' her stake hanging at her
neck."

60 THE shepherd's CALENDAR.

When the gush of waters subsided, all the group,
men and women, were soon employed in pidling out
dead sheep from among rubbish of stones, banks of
gravel, and pools. of the burn; and many a row of
carcasses was laid out, which at that season were of no
use whatever, and of course utterly lost. But all the
time they were so engaged, Mr Adamson came not
near them ; at which they wondered, and some of them
remarked, that << they thought their master was fey the
day, mae ways than ane."

" Ay, never mind him," said the old shepherd,
f< hell come when he thinks it his ain time; he's a
right sair himibled man the day, and I hope by this
time he has been brought to see his errors in a right
light. But the gaberlunzie is lost too. . I think he be
sandit in the yird, for I hae never seen him sin' the
last great crash o' thunner."

<< He'll be gane into the howe to wring his duds,"
said Robert Johnston, << or maybe to make up matters
wi' your master. Gude sauf us, what a profane wretch
the auld creature is I I didna think the muckle homed
deil himsell could hae set up his mou' to the heaven,
andbraggit and blasphemed in sic a way. He gart
my heart a' grue within me, and dirle as it had been
bored wi' reid-het elsins."

- ** Oh, what can ye expect else of a Papish ?" said
the old shepherd, with a deep sigh, " They're a* deil's

MR ADAHSON OF LAVBRHOPB. 61

baims ilk ane, and a' employed in canying on their
fiEidier's wark. It is needless to expect gade branches
firae sic a stock, or gade fruit frae siccan branches."

<< There's ae wee bit text that folks should never
lose ught oV' said Robin, << and it's this, — < Judge not,
that ye be not judged.' I think," remarked Robin, when
he told the story, << I think that steekit their gabs T*

The evening at length drew on ; the women had
gone away home, and the neighbouring shepherds had
scattered here and there to look after their own flocks.
Mr Adamson's men alone remained, lingering about
the brook and the folds, waiting for their master.
They had seen him go into the little green hollow, and
they knew he was gone to his prayers, and were un-
willing to disturb him. But they at length began to
think it extraordinary that he should continue at his
prayers the whole afternoon. As for the beggar, though
acknowledged to be a man of strong sense and sound
judgment, he had never been known to say prayers all
his life, except in the way ^f cursing and swearing a
little sometimes ; and none of them could conjecture
what was become of him. Some of the rest, as it grew
late, applied to the old shepherd before oft mention-
ed, whose name I have forgot, but he had herded with
Adamson twenty years — some of the rest, I say, ap-
plied to him to go and bring their master away home,
thinking that perhaps he was taken ill.

62 THE shepherd's calendar.

<< O, I'm unco laith to disturb him/' said the old
man ; << he sees that the hand o' the Lord has fa'en
heavy on him the day, and he's humbling himsell afore
him in great bitterness o' spirit, I daresay. I count it
a sin to brik in on sic devotions as thae."

<< Na, I carena if he should lie and pray yonder till
the mom," said a young lad, ^< only I wadna like to
gang hame and leave him lying on the hill, if he should
hae chanced to turn no weel. Sae, if nane o'. ye will
gang and bring him, or see what ails him, I'll e'en gang
mysell ;" and away he went, the rest standing still to
await the issue.

When the lad went first to the brink of the little
sladc where Adamson lay, he stood a few moments, as
if gazing or listening, and then turned his back and
fled. The rest, who were standing watching his mo-
tions, wondered at this ; and they said, one to another,
that their master was angry at being disturbed, and had
been threatening the lad so rudely, that it had caused
him to take to his heels. But what they thought most
strange was, that the lad did not fly towards them, but
straight to the hill ; nor did he ever so much as cast
his eyes in their direction ; so deeply did he seem to
be impressed with what had passed between hun
and his master. Indeed, it rather appeared that he
did not know what he was doing ; for, after running a
space with great violence, he stood and looked back,

MR ADAMSON OF LAVERHOFS. 63

amJ then broke to the hill again — alwajrs looking fint
o¥^ the one shonldery and then over the other. Then
he stppped a second time, and retnmed cantionaly to*
wank the spot where his master reclined ; and all the
while he never so mnch as once tnmed his eyes in the
direction of his neighbours, or seemed to remember
that tkej were there. His motions were strikingly er-
ratic ; for all, the way, as he returned to the qx>t whow
hi^ master was, he continued to advance by a cigng
course, like a vessel beating up by short tacks ; and s^
veral times he stood stiU, as on the very point of re*
treating.. At length he vanished from their si^t in the
little hollow.

. It was not long till the lad again made his appear-
ance, shouting and waving his cap for them to coma
likewise ; on which they all went away to him as £mI
as they could, in great amazement what could be the
matter. When they came to the green hollow, a shock-
ing ^^tacle presented itself : There lay the body ol
^ir master, who had been struck dead by the light*
ning ; and, his right side having been torn open, hit
bowels had gushed out, and were lying beside the bo-
dy. The earth was rutted and ploughed close to his
side, and at his feet there was a hole scooped out, a
fxdl yard in depth, and very much resembling a grave.
He had been cut off in the act of prayer, and the body
was StiU lying in the position of a man praying in the

64 THE shepherd's calendar.

field. He had been on his knees, with his elbows lean-
ing on the brae, and his brow laid on his folded hands ;
his plaid was drawn over his head, and his hat below
his arm; and this affecting circumstance proved a
great source of comfort to his widow afterwards, when
the extremity of her suffering had somewhat abated.

No such awful visitation of Providence had ever
been witnessed, or handed down to our hinds on the
ample records of tradition, and the impression which
it made, and the interest it excited, were also without
a paralleL Thousands visited the spot, to view the
devastations made by the flood, and the furrows form-
ed by the electrical matter ; and the smallest circum-
stances were inquired into with the most minute cu-
riosity : above all, the still and drowsy embers of su-
perstition were rekindled by it into a flame, than
which none had ever burnt brighter, not even in the
darkest days of ignorance ; and by the help of it a
theory was made out and believed, that for horror is
absolutely unequalled. But as it was credited in its
fullest latitude by my informant, and always added by
him at the conclusion of the tale, I am bound to men-
tion the circumstances, though far from vouclung them
to be authentic

It was asserted, and pretended to have been proved,
that old Peter Maxwell teas not in the glen ofLaveV"
hope that day^ but at a great distance in a different

MR ADAHSON OF LAVERHOPE. 65

connty, and that it was the deril who attended the
folds in his likeness. It was farther beiieFed by all
the people at the folds, that it was the last explosion
of the whole that had slain Mr Adamson; for they
had at that time obs^ved the side of the brae, where
the litde green slack was situated, covered with a
sheet of flame for a moment. And it so happened,
that thereafter the profane gaberlonzie had been no
more seen ; and therefore they said — and here was the
most horrible part of the story— there was no doubt
of his being the devil, waiting for his prey, and that
he fled away in that sheet of flame, carrying the soul
of John Adamson along with him.

I never saw old Pate Maxwell, — for I believe he
died before I was bom; but Robin Johnston said,
that to his dying day, he denied having been within
forty miles of the folds of Laverhope on the day of
the thunder-storm, and was exceedingly angry when
any one pretended. to doubt the assertion. It was
likewise reported, that at six o'clock afternoon a
stranger had called on Mrs Irvine, and told her, that
John Adamson, and a great part of his stock, had been
destroyed by the lightning and the hail. Mrs Irvine's
house was five miles distant from the folds ; and more
than that, the farmer's death was not so much as
known of by mortal man until two hours after Mrs
Irvine received this information. The storm exceeded

66 THE shepherd's calendab,

any thing remembered, either for its violence or con-
sequences, and these mysterious circumstances haying
been bruited abroad, gave it a hold on the minds of the
populace, never to Jbe erased but by the erasure of ex-
istence. It fell out on the 12th of July, 1753.

The death of Mr Copland of JV^nnigapp, in Annaa-
dale, forms another era of the same sort. It happen-
ed, if I mistake not, on the 18th of July, 1804. It
was one of those days by which all succeeding thun«
der-storms have been estimated, and from which they
are dated, both as having taken place so many years
before, and so long after.

Adam Copland, Esquire, of Minnigapp, was a gen-
tleman esteemed by all who knew him. Handsome
in lus person, and el^ant in his manners, he was the
ornament of rural sodiety, and the delight of his. family
and friends ; and his loss was felt as no common mis-
fortune. As he occupied a pastoral faun of consi-
derable extent, his own property, he chanced ■ like-
wise to be out at his folds on the day above-mentum-
ed, with his own servants, and some neighbours, wean-
ing a part of his lambs, and shearing a few sheep.
About mid-day the thunder, lightning, and hail, eam6
on, and deranged their operations entirely ; and, among
other things, a part of the lambs broke away from the
folds, and being in great fright, they continued to run
on* Mr Copland and a shepherd of his, named Thomas

MR ADAMSON OF LAVEBHOPE. 67

Scotty pursued tbeniy and, at the distance of about half
1 mijbe from the folds, they tamed them, mastered
them, after some numing, aad were hringing them
hack to the fold, when the dreadful catastrophe hap-
•gened. Thomas Scott was the only perMm present, of
coiuse ; and though he was within a few steps of his
master at the time, he could give no account of any
Jhing. I am well acquainted with Scott, and have
questioned him about the particulars fifty times ; but
he could not so much as tell me how he got back to
the fold ; whether he brought the lambs with him or
not ; how long the storm continued ; nor, indeed, any
thing after the time that his master and he turned the
Jambs. That circumstance he remembered perfectly,
but th^ceforwaid his mind seemed to have become a
blank* I alumld likewise have mentkmed, as an in-
stance of the same kind of deprivation of consdons*
ness, that when the young lad who Went first to the
body of Adamson was questioned why he fied from the
body at fiirst, he. denied that ever he fled ; he was not
conscious of having fled a foot, and never would have
belieyed it, if he had not been aeea by four eye-wit-
nesses. The only things of which Thomas Scott had
any impressions were these : that, when the lightning
struck his master, he sprung a great height into the
air, much higher, he thought, than it was possible for
any man to leap by his own exertion. He also thinks.

68 THE shepherd's calendar.

that the place where he fell dead was at a considerahle
distance from that on which he was struck and leaped
from the ground ; hut when I inquired if he judged
that it would he twenty yards or ten yards, he could
give no answer — he could not tell. He only had an
impression that he saw his master spring into the air,
all on fire ; and, on running up to him, he found him
quite dead. If Scott was correct in this, (and he be-
ing a man of plain good sense, truth, and integrity,
there can scarce be a reason for doubting him,) the
circimistance would argue that the electric matter by
which Mr Copland was killed issued out of the earth.
He was speaking to Scott with his very last breath ;
but all that the survivor could do, he could never re^
member what he was saying. Some melted drops of
silver were standing on the case of his watch, as well
as on some of the buttons of his coat, and the body
never stiffened like other corpses, but remained as
supple as if every bone had been softened to jelly,
fie was a married man, scarcely at the prime of life,
and left a young widow and only son to lament his
loss. On the spot where he fell there is now an obelisk
erected to his memory, with a warning text on it, rela-
ting to the shortness and imcertainty of human life.

THB PRODIGAL SOX. 69

CHAPTER IIL

THE PRODIGAL SON.

<< Bring me my pike-staff, daughter Matilda, — the
one with the head turned round like crummy a horn ;
I find it easiest for my hand. And do you hear,
Matty ? — Stop, I say ; you are always in such a hurry.
— Bring me likewise my best cloak, — not the tartan
one, but the grey marled one, lined with green flanneU
I go oyer to Shepherd Gawin's to-day, to see that poor
young man who is said to be dying.**

^ I would not go, father, were I you. He is a
great reprobate, and will laugh at every good precept ;
and, more than that, you will heat yourself with the
walk, get cold, and be confined again with yoi|( old
complsdnt.''

'< What was it you said, daughter Matilda ? Ah,
you said that which was very wrong. God only knows
who are reprobates, and who are not. We can judge
from nought but external evidence, which is a false
ground to build calculations upon ; but He knows the

70 THE shepherd's CALENDAR.

heart, with all our motives of action, and judges very
differently from us. You said very wrong, daughter.
But women will always be speaking unadvisedly. Al-
ways rash ! always rash I — Bring me my cloak, daugh-
ter, for as to my being injured by my walk, I am go-
ing on my Master s business ; my life and health are
in his hands, and let him do with me as seemeth good
in his sight ; I will devote all to his service the little
while I have to sojourn here."

<< But this young man, father, is not only wicked
himself, but he delights in the wickedness of others.
He has ruined all his associates, and often not without
toiling for it with earnest application. Never did your
own heart yearn more over the gaining of an immortal '
soul to God and goodness, than this same yoimg profli-
gate's bosom has yearned over the destruction of one."

<< Ah I it is a dismal picture, indeed ! but not, per-
haps, so bad as you say. Women are always disposed
to exaggerate, and often let their tongues outrun iheir
judgments. Bring me my cloak and my staff, daugh-
ter Mat. Though God withdraw his protecting arm
from a fellow-creature for a time, are we to give all up
for lost ? Do you not know that his grace aboundeth
to the chief of sinners ?"

<< I know more of this youth than you do, my dear
{ather ; would to Heaven I knew less I and I advise
you to stay at home, and leave him to the mercy of

72 THE shepherd's calendar.

know that he has most basely betrayed his sister, your
darling Euphemia." ,

Old Isaac's head snnk down, while some tears in-
voluntarily dropped on hir knee ; and to conceal his
emotion, he remained silent, save that he uttered a few-
stifled groans. Natural affection and duty were at
strife within him, and for a time neither of them would
yield. His daughter perceived the struggle, and con-
tented herself with watching its effects.

<< Where is my cloak, daughter Matilda ?" said he^
at length, without raising his head. * .

<< It is hanging on one of the wooden knags in thfe
garret, sir," swd she.

" Ay. Then you may let it hang on the knag where
it is all day. It is a weary world this ! and we are
all guilty creatures ! I fear I cannot converse and pray
with the ruthless seducer of both my children."

« Your resolution is prudent, sir. All efforts to re-,
gain such a one are vain. He is not only a reprobate,
and an outcast from his Maker, but a determined and
avowed enemy to his laws and government."

" You do not know what you say, daughter," 'said
old Isaac, starting to his feet, and looking her sternly
in the face. '< If I again hear you presume to prejudge
any accountable and immortal being in such a man-
ner, I shall be more afraid of your own state than of
his. While life remains, we are in a land where re-

6

74 THE shepherd's calendar.

light on the head of my father/' said Matilda, as she
ioUowed with her eye the bent figore of the old man
Jbasting with tottering steps over the moor, on the road
that led to Shepherd Gawin's ; and when he vanished
horn her view on the height, she wiped her eyes, drew
the window screen, and applied herself to her work.

Isaac lost sight of his own home, and came in view
of Shepherd Gawin's at the same imtant ; but he only
gave a slight glance back to his own, for the eon<^m
that lay before him dwelt on his heart. It was a con-
,cem of life ahd death, not only of a temporal, but of
a spiritual and eternal nature ; and where the mbrtiS
conc^ns are centred, on that place, or towards that
place, will the natural eye be turned. Isaac looked
<mly at the dwelling before him : All wore a solemli
stillness about the place that had so often resounded
with rustic mirth ; the cock crowed not at the door H6
was his wont, nor strutted on tibe top of his old dm^
hill, that had been accumulating there for ages, and
had the appearance of a small green moimtain; but
he sat on the kailyard dike, at the head of his mates,
with his feathers ruffled, and every now and then hb
one eye turned up to the «ky, as if watching some ai>-
pearance there of wliich he stood in dread. The blkbd-
-some collies camJB not down the grefen to bark mnd
frolic half in kindness and half in jealousy ; theiy lay
coiled up <m the shelf of the hay^-stack^ and m the' sthm-

THE PRODIGAL 80K. 75

geri^proadhedy lifted <q> thm heads and viewed him
with a sullen and sleepy eye, then, nttering a low and
stifled growl, muffled their heads again between their
iund fciet, and shrouded their social natures in the very
depth of sull^nness.

** This is either the abode of death, or deep mourn-
ing, or perhaps both," said old Isaac to himself, as he
approached the hotise ; '< and all the domestic animals
ve affected by it, and join in the general dismay. If
•this young man has departed with the eyes of his un-
dcretanding blinded, I have not been in the way of my
duty. It is a hard case that a blemished lamb shoiuld
be cast out of the flock, and no endeavour made by the
ahepbard to heal or irecall it ; that the poor stray thing
should be left to perish, and lost to its Master^s fold.
It behoveth not a fedthful shepherd to suffer this ; and
yet — Isaac, thou a^ the maA ! May the Lord pardon
his Servant iil this thing T

The scene continued predsely the same until Isaac
reiushed the tolitary dwelling. There was no one pass-
ing in or out by the door, nor any human creature to
be seen stirring, save a little girl, oiie of the family,
trh6 bad beeii away meeting the carrier to procure
somfe medicines, and who approached the house by a
different patL Isaac wajs' first at the door, and on
reachinig it he heard a conftised noise within, like the
sounuds of weeping asHi praying commingled* Unwill-

76 THE shepherd's calendar.

ing to break in upon them, ignorant as he was how
matters stood with the family, he paused, and then with
a soft step retreated to meet the little girl that ap-
proached, and make some inquiries of her. She tried
to elude him by running past him at a little distance,
but he asked her to stop and tell him how all was
within. She did not hear what he said, but guessing
the purport of his inquiry, answered, <^ He's nae better,
sir." — << Ah me I still in the same state of suffering ?**
— " Aih no, — no ae grain, — I tell ye he's nae better
ava." And with that she stepped into the house, Isaac
following close behind her, so that he entered without
being either seen or announced. The first soimds that
he could distinguish were the words of the dying youth;
they had a hoarse whistKng sound, but they were the
words of wrath and indignation. As he crossed the
hallan he perceived the sick man's brother, the next to
him in age, sitting at the window with his elbow lean-
ing on the table, and his head on his closed fist, while
the tints of sorrow and anger seemed mingled on his
blunt countenance. Farther on stood his mother and
elder sister leaning on each other, and their eyes shaded
with their hands, and dose by the sick youth's bed-
side ; beyond these kneeled old Gawin the shepherd,
his fond and too indulgent father. He held the shri-
velled hand of his son in his, and with the other that
of a damsel who stood by his side : And Isaac heard

THB PRODIGAL SON. 77

Ittm oonjiiriiig his son in the name of the God of hea*
yen. Here old Isaac's voice interrnpted the affecting
scene. ^< Peace be to this house, — may the peace of
the Almighty be within its walk,** said he, with an
aadible voice. The two women nttered a stifled shriek^
and the dying man a ^ Poh ! poh I" of abhorrence.
Old Grawin, though he did not rise from his knees,
gazed roimd with amazement in his fuce ; and looking
first at his dying son, and then at old Isaac, he drew a
foU breath, and said, with a quiyering voice, ** Sorely
the hand of the Almighty is in this !"

There was still another object in the apartment well
worthy of the attention of him who entered — ^it was
the damsel who stood at the bedside ; but then she
stood with her back to Isaac, so that he could not see
her &ce, and at the sound of his voice, she drew her
doak over her head, and retired behind the bed, sobbing
so, that her bosom seemed like to rend. The cloak was
similar to the one worn that day by old Isaac, for, be
it remembered, he had not the gaudy tartan one about
him, but the russet grey plaid made to him by his be*
loved daughter. Isaac saw the young woman retiring
behind the bed, and heard her weeping ; but a stroke
like that of electricity seemed to have affected the
nerves of all the rest of the family on the entrance of
the good old man, so that his attention was attracted
by those unmediately under his eye. The mother and

79 TH£.$H£PH£RD's CALENDAR.

4aughter whispered to each other in great perplexity.
Old Gawia rose from his knees ; and not knowing well
what to say or do, he diligently wiped the dust from
the knee-caps oi his corduroy breeches, even descend-
ing to the minutiae of scraping away some specks xacMre
adhesive than the, rest, with the nail of his nud finger.
]^o one welcomed the old man> and the dying youth
in the bed grumbled these bittar words, ^ I see now
on what errand Ellen was sent I Confound your offi*
ci^usnesB I,** .

" No, Graham, . you ore mistaken* The child w^as

at T r to meet the carrier for your drogs," said old

Gawin.

r.*^ Poh I pohl all of a piece with the rest of the
stuff you hare told me. CcHne hith^, Ellen, and let;
me see what the doctor has sent."' — The girl came near,:
and gave some vials with a sealed Erection.
; <*^ So you got these at T r^ did you?" '
• >^ Yes, I got them from Jetsy Clapperton ; the car-
rier was. away."

- *^ Lying imp I who told you to say that ? Answer,
me I" — The child was mute and looked frightened.- —
u Oh ! I see how it is I You have done very well, my
dear, very cleverly, you give very iajr promise. Get
me some clothes, pray-^I will try if I can leave this
house."

^^ Alas,, my good friends, what is this ?" said Isaac ;

• TOS PRODIOAL 80K. 79

M ite young' man's reason, I fear, is wmTering. Grood
Gawin, why do jou not give me your hand ? I am ex-
tremely sorry for yoiir son's great bodily sufferings, and
for wkat yon and yom family must suffer mentally on
Ua aceonnt. How are yon ?"

^ Ri^it weel, sir — as weel as may be expected,"
said GEAwia, taking old Isaac's hand, hot not once lift*
ing kis eyes £rom the ground to look the good man in
ihe face.

^ And how are you, ^ood dame ?" continued Isaac,
shakiAg hands with die old woman.

^ Right wefel, thanks t'ye, sir. It is a canld day this^
Ye'U be eauld?"

^ Oh no^ I rafther feel warm.^'
^ Ay, ye have a comfortable plaid for a day like this ;
a good ptaid'itW

^ I like, to hear you say so, Agnes, for that plaid
waa a Christmaa present to me, ^m one tdio has now
been several years in the cold grave. It was lAade to
me by my kind and beloved daughter £upky. But
enough of ti^ — I see y<m have some mantles in the
house of the very satne kind."

^ No; not the saineu We have none of the same
here/' .

<< Well, the same or nearly so, — it is all one. My
sight often deceives me now.'*— ^The fiEimily all looked
fit one anotb0r.-->< But enough of this," continued old

80 THE shepherd's CALENDAR.

Isaac, ^^ I came not thus far to discuss such matters.
The sick young man, from what I heard, I fear, is in-
capable of spiritual conversation ?**

<< Yes, I am,'' said he, from the bed, with a squeak-
ing voice; ^^ and I would this moment that I were
dead I Why don't you give me my clothes ? Sure
never was a poor imfortunate being tormented as I
am I Won't you have pity on me, and let me have a
little peace for a short time ? It is not long I will
trouble you. Is it not mean and dastardly in you all
to combine against an object that cannot defend him-
self?"

" Alack, alack 1" said old Isaac, " the calmness of
reason is departed for the present. I came to converse
a little with him on that which concerns his peace
here, and his happiness hereafter : to hold the mirror
up to his conscience, and point out an object to him,
of which, if he take not hold, all his hope is a wreck."

« 1 knew it I I knew it !" vociferated the sick man.
<< A strong and great combination : but I'll defeat it, —
ha, ha, ha I I tell you. Father Confessor, I have no
right or part in the object you talk of. I will have no
farther concern with her. She shall have no more of
me than you shall have. If the devil should have all,
that is absolute — ^Will that suffice ?"

" Alas I he is not himself," said old Isaac, " and
has nearly been guilty of blasphemy. We must not

82^ THE SHBPHERD*S CAiiBNPAR.

tW€f tearft fall on tlie board, which he fonned with his
ftirdlnger into the initials of his name ; the little • girl
looked from one to another, and wondered what ailed
^lem all, then casting down her eyes, she tried to look
d^tront, bnt they would not be restrmned. The dying
youth, who at the beginning testified the utmost im*
pCitience, by degrees became the most affected of all.
His featnres first grew composed, then rueful, and
finally he turned himself on his face in humble pros-
Mtion. Isaac pleaded ferrently with the Almighty,
^at tbe sufferers days might be lengthened, and that
be'tnigfat not be'cut off in the bloom of youth, andex^
ub«'ancie> of levity^-^^t that seascm when man is more,
apt to speak than calculate, and to act than consider,'
even though speech should be crime,, and action irre-
trievable ruin. *^ Spare and recover him, O merciful
Father, yet for a little while," said he, << that he may
have his eyes opened to see his ruined state both by.
nature and by wicked works ; for who among us Uveth
and sumeth not, and what changes may be made in his
dispositions in a few years or a few months by thy for-
bearance ? Thou takest no pleasure in the death of
sinners, but rathea* that all should repent, and turn imto
thee, and live ; therefore, for his iminortal soul s sake>
and for the sake of what thy Son hath suffered for
mined man, spare him till he have time and space to re*
pent« Should his youthful mind have been tainted

with tke pM^nAiBf rioe of mfiddity, to that he brth
htf^ t^Bpted to liik up fab voice against the mott ■»»
cred troths ; and should he, iftievll the profa&e, hauw
lieea'ffoH<rwhiy hia faidhuitioaB rather than his ji»dg>*
n«at, iiow n h^notrprepared to ahide the final resolt ?
e^ tirbe iMlheM into the rery midst of those gloriovB
leaiMelr Whidh he hath hitherto treated as a fietiott?
And how shall he stand hefore thee, when he di8eovef%
W6 latc^ lliat there Is indeed a God, whose being and
atcribtitee he hath doubted, a Saviour whom he hath
despised^ a heaven into which he cannot enta>, and a
heH whidi he ten never escape ? Perhaps he hath been
instramental in unhinging the principles of others, and
flff iriisleadiiig some unwary being from the paths of
trtidi and holiness ; and in the flush of reckless depTap*
vity, may even have deprived some innocent, loving,
and trnftting being of virtue, and left her a prey to
soiTow and despair ; and with these and more grievoiui
<^riibes on his head,-^l unrepented and unatoned,-—
how shall he appear before thee ?"

At this part of the prayer, the sobs behind the bed
became so auchble, that it made the old man pause
ni ^e midst of his fervent supplications ; and the dy-
ing yxKitfi was heard to weep in suppressed breathings.
Isaac went on, and prayed still for the sufferer as one
insensible to all that passed ; but he prayed so earnest^
ly for his fcH^veness, for the restoratiott of his righi^ ^

84 THE shepherd's calendar.

reason, and for health and space for repentance and
amendment, that the sincerity of his heart was appa-
rent in every word and erery tone.

When he rose from his knees there was a deep si-
lence ; no one knew what to say, or to whom to address
lumself ; for the impression made on all their minds
was peculiarly strong. The only motion made for a
good while was by the soft young man at the table,
who put on his bonnet as he was wont to do after
prayers ; but remembering that the Minister was pre-
sent, he slipped it off again by the ear, as if he had
been stealing it from his own head. At that instant
the dying youth stretched out his hand. Isaac saw it,
and looking to his mother, said he wanted something.
^ It is yours — ^your hand that I want,'' said the youth,
in a kind and expressive tone. Isaac started, he had
judged him to be in a state of delirium, and his sur-
prise may be conceived when he heard him speak with
calmness and composure. He gave him his hand, but
from what he had heard fall from his lips before, knew
not how to address him. << You are a good man," said
the youth, " God in heaven reward you I"

<< What is this I hear ?" cried Isaac, breathless with
asUMlishment. << Have the disordered senses been rai-
ded in one moment ? Have our unworthy pray^^ in-
deed been heard at the throne of Omnipotence, and an-
swered so suddenly ? Let us bow otirselves witb

* THS PRODIGAL SON. 85

gratitade and adoratioiw And for the^ my dear yoni^
friend, be of good cheer ; for there are better thingt
intended towards thee. Thou shalt yet live to repent
of thy sins, and to become a chosen vessel of mercy in
the house of him that saved thee."

*^ If I am spared in life for a little while," said the
youA, ^ I shall make atonement for some of my trans*
gressions, for the enormity of ndiich I am smitten to
the heart."

<< Trust to no atonement you can make of your*
self," cried Isaac fervently. << It is a bruised reed, to
^diich, if you lean, it will go into your hand and pierce
it ; a shelter that will not break the blast. You must
trust to a higher atonement, else your repentimce shall
he as stubble, or as chaff that the wind carrieth away."

<< So disinterested I" exclaimed the youth. << Is it
my wellbeing alone over which your soul yearns?
This is more than I expected to meet with in human-^
ity ! Good father, I am imable to speak more to yon
to-day, but give me your hand, and promise to come
back to see me on Friday. If I am spared in life, you
shall find me all that you wish, and shall never more
have to charge me with ingratitude."

In the zeal of his devotion, Isaac had quite forgot
all personal injuries ; he did not even remembet that
there were such beings as his grandchildren in ex-
istence at ^t time ; but when the young man said,

86 THE shepherd's calendar.

that ^' he should find him all that he wished, and that
he would no more he ungrateful/' the sohs and weep-
ing hebind the bed grew so audible, that all fiarther
exchange x>f sentiments was interrupted. The youth
grasped old Isaac's hand, and motioned for him to go
away; and he was about to comply, out of respect for
the feelings of the sufferer, but before he could widi-
draw his hand from the bed, or rise fit-om the seat on
which he had just sat down, the weeping fair one burst
jfrom behind the bed ; and -falling on Ins knees with her
face, she seized his hand with both hers, kissed it an
hundred times, and bathed it all over with her tears.
Isaac's heart was at all times sof^ and at that particu-
lar time he was in a mood to be melted quite ; he tried
to. soothe the damsel, though he himself was as much
affected as she was — ^but as her mantle was still over
her head, how could he know her ? His old dim eyes
were, moreover, so much sujQFused with tears, that he
did not perceive that mantle to be the very same with
his own, and that one hand must have been the maker
of both. *' Be comforted," said old Isaac ; << he will
mend — He will mend, and be yet a stay to you and to
them all — be of good comfort, dear love."
M When he had said this, he wiped his eyes hastily
imd impatiently with the lap of his plaid, seized his
old pike-staff^; and as he tottered across the floor,
^*8wing up his plaid around hss waist? its purple rus-

THE PRODIGAli SON. 87

tic coIo«iB amf^ kk eye, dim as it was ; and he per^

oeiyed that it was not hb tartan one with the gaudjr

spukglesj hwd the grey marled one that was made to

Um by his beloved daaghter* Who can trace the linka

of association in the human mind ? The chain is. more

angM, more oblique, than the course marked out by

the bolt of heaveub-^as momentarily formed, and a^

^pickly lost. In aU cases, they are indefinable, but on

the mind of old age, they glance like dreams and n«

sions of something that have been, and are for ever

gone. The instant that Isaac s eye fell on his mantle^

he looked hastily and involuntarily around him, first

on the one side and then on the other, his visage ma>*

nifestiiig trepidatiim and uncertainty. <* Pray what

have you lost, sir ?** said the kind and officious dame*

<< I cannot tell what it was that I missed," said old

Isaac, << but methought I felt as if I had left something

bdbmd me that was mine.*' Isaac went away, but left

not a dry eye in the dwelling which he quitted.

On leavii^ the cottage he was accompanied part of
the way by Grawin, in whose manner there still re-
mained an unaccoujitable degree of embarrassment.
His conversation laboured under a certain restraint, in*
somiich that Isaac, who was an observer of human na*
ture, could not help taking notice of it ; but those who
have never witnessed, in the same predicament, a home*
bred, honest countryman, accustomed to speak his

88 THE shepherd's calendar.

thoughts freely at all times, can form no conception of
the appearance that Gawin made. From the time that
the worthy old man first entered his cot, till the time
they parted again on the height, Gawin's lips were curl-
ed, the one up, and the other down, leaving an inordi-
nate extent of teeth and gums displayed between them ;
whenever his eyes met those of his companion, they
were that instant withdrawn, and, with an involuntary
motion, fixed on the summit of some of the adjacent
hills ; and when they stopped to converse, Gawin was
always laying on the ground with his staff, or beating
some unfortunate thistle all to pieces. The one family
had suffered an injury from the other, of a nature so
flagrant in Gawin's eyes, that his honest heart could not
brook it; and yet so delicate was the subject, that
when he essayed to mention it, his tongue refused the
office. << There has a sair misfortune happened," said
he once, << that ye aiblins dinna ken o\ — ^But it's nae
matter ava!" And with that he fell on and beat a
thistle, or some other opposing shrub, most unmerci-
fully.

There was, however, one subject on which he spoke
with energy, and that was the only one in which old
Isaac was for the time interested. It was his son's re-
ligious state of mind. He told Isaac, that he had form-
ed a corre(Ct opinion of the youth, and that he was in-
deed a scoffer at religion, because it had become fa-

THE PRODIGAL SON. 89

aUonable in certain college classes, where religion was
never mentioned but with ridicule ; but that his infi-
delity sprang from a perverse and tainted inclination,
in opposition to his better judgment, and that if he
could have been brought at all to think or reason on
the subject, he would have thought and reasoned
aright ; this, however, he had avoided by every means,
seeming horrified at the very mention of the subject,
and glad to escape from the tormenting ideas that it
brought in its train. — *< Even the sight of your face to-
day," continued Grawin, << drove him into a fit of tem-
porary derangement. But from the unwonted docili-
ty he afterwards manifested, I have high hopes that
this visit of yours will be accompanied by the blessing
of Heaven. He has been a dear lad to me ; for the
sake of getting him forret in his lair, I hae pinched
baith mysell and a* my family, and sitten down wi'
them to mony a poor and scrimpit meal. But I never
grudged that, only I hae whiles been grieved that the
rest o' my family hae gotten sae little justice in their
schooling. And yet, puir things, there has never ane
o' them grieved my heairt, — ^which he has done aftener
than I like to speak o'. It has pleased Heaven to pu-
nish me for my partiality to him ; but I hae naething
for it but submission. — Ha I do ye ken, sir, that that
day I first saw him moimt a poopit, and heard him be-
gin a discourse to a croudit congregation, I thought a'

90 THE shepherd's CALENDAR.

my pains and a' my pinching poverty overpaid. For the
first quarter of an hour I was sae upliftit, that I hardly
kenn'd whether I was sitting, standing, or flying in the
air, or whether the kirk was standing stiU, or rimdng
round ahout. But, alake I afore the end o' his twa dis-
courses, my heart turned as cauld as lead, and it has
never again hett in my hreast sinsyne. They were twa
o' thae cauldrife moral harangues, that tend to uplift
poor wrecked, degei^erate human nature, and rin down
divine grace. There was nae dependence to he heard
tell o' there, heyond the weak arm o' sinfu' flesh ; and
oh, I thought to mysell, that will afford sma* comfort,,
my man, to either you or me, at our dying day !"

Here the old shepherd became so much ovei7)ower-
ed, that he could not proceed, and old Isaac took up
the discourse, and administered comfort to the sorrotlr-
ing father : then shaking him kindly by the hand, he-
proceeded on his way, while Gawin returned slowly
homeward, still waging war with every intrusive and
superfluous shrub in bis path. He was dissatisfied
with himself becaase he bad not sp<^en his mind to a
person who so well deserved his confidence, on a sub-^
ject that most of all preyed on bis heart*

Matilda^ who sat watching the path by which her
father was to return home, beheld him as soon as he
came in view, and continued to watch him all the way.
lyith that tender solicitude which is only prompted by

92 THE shepherd's calendar.

assured her of the contrary — ^his right-hand sleeve was
wringing wet ; and there was even a dampness between
his shoulders, which was exceedingly dangerous, as it
was so nearly opposite the heart. In short, old Isaac's
whole apparel had to be shifted piecemeal, though not
without some strong remonstrances on his part, and
the good-natured quotation, several times repeated,
from the old song :

^' Nought's to be won at woman's hand,
Unless ye gie her a' the plea.*'

When she had got him all made comfortable to her
mind, and his feet placed in slippers well-toasted be-
fore the fire, she then began her inquiries. << How did
you find all at Gawin's to-day, now when I have got-
ten time to speir ?"

" Why, daughter Matty, poorly enough, very poor-
ly. But, thanks be to God, I think I left them some-
what better than I found them."

<< I am so glad to hear that I I hope you have taken
Graham over the coals about Phemy?"

« Eh I about Phemy ?"

" You know what I told you before you went away ?
You were not so unnatural as to forget your own flesh
and blood, in commiming with the man who has wrong-
ed her?"

'< I did not think more of the matter ; and if I had,
there would have been no propriety in mentioning it.

THE PRODIGAL 80N. 93

as none of the family ^oke of it to me. And bow
was I assured that there was no mis-statement? Woman
are always so rash-spoken, and so fond of exaggeratioB^
that I am afi»id to trust them at the first word ; and
besides, my dear Matty, you know they are apt to set
iluiigs double sometimes."

<< Well, my dear father, I must say that your wit, er
raillery, is very ill timed, consideriug whom it relates
to. Your grand-daughter has been most basely de-
ceired, under a pretence of marriage ; and yet you will
break your jokes on the subject I"

<< You know, Matty, I never broke a joke on such a
subject in my life. It was you whom I was joking;
for your news cannot always be depended on. If I
were to take up every amour in the parish, upon the
faith of your first hints, and to take the delinquents
over the coals, as you recommend, I should often com^
mit myself sadly."

Matilda was silenced. She asked for no instances,
in order to deny the insinuation ; but she murmured
some broken sentences, like one who has been fairly
beat in an argument, but is loath to yield. It was ra*
ther a hard subject for the good lady ; for ever smce
she had bidden adieu to her thirtieth year, she had be-
come exceediDgly jealous of the conduct of the younger
portion of her sex. But Isaac was too kind-hearted to
exult in a severe joke ; he instantly added, as a palli-

94 THE shepherd's calendar.

stive, ** But I should hold my tongue. You have
many means of hearing, and coming to the truth of
such matters, that I have not."
. <^ I wish this were false, however," said Matilda,
tnming away her face from the fire, lest the flame
should scorch her cheek ; ^' but I shall say no more
fibout it, and neither, I suppose, will you, till it be out
pf time. Perhaps it may not be true, for I heard,
rince you went away, that she was to be there to-day,
by appointment of his parents, to learn his final deter-
mination, which may be as much without foundation
as the other part of the story. If she had been there,
you must have seen her, you know."

^^ Eh ?" said Isaac, after biting his lip, and making a
Ictog pause ; " What did you say, daughter Matty ?
Did you say my Phemy was to have been there to-
day?"

^* I heard such a report, which must have been un-
true, because, had she been there, you would have inet
with her."

; " There was a lass yonder," said Isaac '^ How
many daughters has Gawin p*'

" Only one who is come the length of woman, and
whom you see in the kirk every day capering with her
liobbs of crimson ribbons, and looking at Will Fergu-
son."
. << It is a pity women are always so censorious," said

tHE PRODIGAL SON. 95

Isaac — ** always construing small matters the wrong
way. It is to be hoped these little constitutional fail-
ings will not be laid to their charge. — So Gawin has
but one dangbter ?"

** I said, one that is a grown-up woman. He baa,
besides, little Ellen ; ' a pert idle creature, who has aft
eye in ber head that will tell tales some day.*'

'** Then ^ere was indeed another damsel," said old
Isaac, " whom i did not know, bnt took her for one of
the fiunily. Alaike, and wo is me ! Conld I think It
was my own dear child hanging over the conch of a
dying man I The girl that I saw was in tears, and deep-
ly dBPected. She even seized my hand, and bathed it
wi^ tears* What conld she think of me, who neither
named nor kissed her, but that I had cast her off and
r^iomiced her ? But no, no, I can never do that ; I
will forgive her as heartily as I would beg for her foiw
giveness at the throne of mercy. We are all fallible and
offending creatures ; and a young maid, that grows vp
as a willow by the water-courses, and who is in the
flusb of youth and beauty, ere ever she has had a mo-
ment's time for serious reflection, or one trial of world-
ly expierience-^that such a one should fall a victim to
practised guilt, is a consequence so natural, that, how^
ever deeply to be regretted, it is not matter of aato^
nii^mient. Foot misguided Phemy I Did you indeed
kneel at my knee, and bathe my hand with your affec-

96 THE shepherd's calendar.

tionate tears, without my once deigning to acknowledge
you? And yet how powerful are the workings of
nature! They are indeed the workings of the Deity
himself: for when I arose, all unconscious of the pre-
sence of my child, and left her weeping, I felt as if I
had left a part of my hody and hlood hehind me."

'< So she was indeed there, whining and whimpering
over her honourahle lover ?" said Matilda. " I wish
I had heen there, to have told her a piece of my mind !
The silly, inconsiderate heing, to allow herself to he
deprived of fair fame and character hy such a worth-
less profligate, bringing disgrace on all connected with
her! And then to go whimpering over his sick-bed I
— »0 dear love, you must marry me, or I am undone !
I have laved you with all my heart, you know, and you
must make me your wife. I am content to beg my
bread with you, now that I have loved you so dearly !
only you must marry me. Oh dear I Oh dear ! what
«ball become of me else T'

" Dear daughter Matilda, where is the presumptuous
being of the fallen race of Adam who can say. Here
will I stand in my own strength ? What will the best
of us do, if left to ourselves, better than the erring, in-
experienced being, whose turning aside you so bitterly
censure? It is better that we lament the sins and
failings of our relatives, my dear Matty, than rail

6

THE PRODIGAL SON. 97

against theiii» pnttiiig ounelres into sinful pasftion, and
diefeby adding one iniquity to another.**

The aigunent was kept up all that evening, and all
neact day, with the same effect ; and if either of the
disputantB had been asked what it was about, neither
could have told yery precisely: the one attached a
blame, which the other did not deny ; only there were
different ways of speaking about it. On the third day,
which was Friday^ old Isaac appeared at breakfast in
his Sunday clo^ies, giving thus an intimation of a se-
cond intended visit to the house of Gawin the shephenl.
The first cup of tea was scarcely poured out, till tlie
old subject was renewed, and the debate seasoned with
a little more salt than was customary between the two
amiable disputants. Matilda disapproved of the visit,
and tried, by all the eloquence she was mistress of, to
make it appear indec(»rous. Isaac defended it on the
score of disinterestedness and purity of intention ; but
finding himself hard pressed, he brought forward his
pixmiise, and the impropriety of breaking it. Matty
would not give up her point ; she persisted in it, till
she foiled her father's breakfast, made his hand shake
so, that he could scarcely put the cup to his head, and,
after all, staggered his resolution so much, that at last
he sat in olence, and Matty got all to say herself. She*
now accounted the conquest certain, and valuing herself
on the influence she possessed, she began to overburden

VOL. r. s

98 THE shepherd's calendar.

her old father with all maimer of kindness and teasing
officionsness. Woidd he not take this, and refrain
from that, and wear one part of dress in preference to
another that he had on ? There was no end of con-
troyersy with Isaac, however kind might he the intent.
All that he said at that time was, << Let me alone,
dear Matty ; let me have some peace. Women are
always overwis^ — always contrary."

When matters were at this pass, the maid-servant
came into the room, and annoimced that a little girl of
shepherd Grawin's wanted to speak with the Minister.
<< Alas, I fear the yoimg man will he at his rest V* said
Isaac Matilda grew pale, and looked exceedingly
alarmed, and only said, << she hoped not.'' Isaac in-
quired of the maid, hut she said the girl refused to tell
her any thing, and said she had orders not to tell a word
of aught that had happened ahout the house.

" Then something has happened," said Isaac. " It
must be as I feared I Send the little girl ben."

Ellen came into the parlour with a beck as quick and
as low as that made by the water ouzel, when standing
on a stone in the middle of the water ; and, without
waiting for any inquiries, began her speech on the in-
stant, with, " Sir — ^hem — ^heh — ^my father sent me, sir
— ^hem — ^to tell ye that ye wama to forget your pro-
mise to come ower the day, for that there's muckle
need for yer helping hand yonder— sir; that's a', sir."

THE PRODIGAL SOX. 99

<< You may tell your father/* said Isaac, << that 1 will
oome as soon as I am able. 1 will be there by twelve
o'clock} God willing."

<< Are you wise enough, my dear fiAther, to send such
a message ?** remonstrated Matilda. << You are not able
to go a journey to-day. I thought I had said enough
about that before* — You may tell your father," con-
tinued she, turning to Ellen, <^ that my father cannot
come the length of his house to-day."

^ m tell my father what the Minister bade me,*
replied the girL << I'll say, sir, that yell be there by
twall o'clock ; — ^will I, sir ?"

" Yes, by twelve o'clock," said Isaac

Ellen had no sooner made her abrupt curtsey, and
left the room, than Matilda, with the desperation of a
general who sees himself on the point of being driven
from a position which it had cost him much exertion to
gain, again opened the fire of her eloquence upon her
father. " Were I you," said she, " I would scorn to
enter their door, after the manner in which the profli-
gate villain has behaved: first, to make an acquaintance
with your grandson at the College — ^pervert all his
ideas of rectitude and truth — then go home with him
to his father's:house, during the vacation, and there live
at heck and manger, no lady being in the house save
your simple and unsuspecting Phemy, who now is re-
duced to the necessity of going to a shepherd's cottage,

100 THE SHEPHERDS CALENDAR.

t

and begging to be admitted to the alliance oi a family,
the best of whom is iax beneath her, to say nothing of
the unhappy individual in question. Wo is me, that I
have seen. the day r

'^ If the picture be correctly drawn, it is indeed very
bad ; but I hope the recent sufferings of the young man
will have the effect of restoring him to the principles in
which he was bred,, and to a better sense of his heinous
offences. I must go and see how the family fares, as
in duty and promise bound. Content yourself, deai*
daughter. It may be that the unfortunate youth has
already appeared at that bar from which there is no
appeal."

This consideration, as it again astounded, so it put to
silence the offended dame, who suffered her father to
depart on his mission of humanity without farther op-
position ; and old Isaac again set out, meditating as he
went, and often conversing with himself, on the sinful-
ness of man, and the great goodness of God. So deep-
ly was he wrapt in contemplation, that he scarcely cast
an eye over the wild mountain scenery by which he was
surroimded, but plodded on his way, with eyes fixed on
the ground, till he approached the cottage. He was
there aroused from his reverie, by the bustle that ap-
peared about the door. The scene was changed indeed
from that to which he introduced himself two days be-
fore. The collies came yelping and wagging their tails

THE PRODIGAL SOX. lOI

to meet lum, while the inmates of the dwelling wera
peeping out at the door, and ai quickly vanishing again
into the intmoir* There were also a pair or two of
n^gUbonring sheph^fds sauntering about the side of the
kail-yard dike^ all dressed in their Sunday apparel, and
every thing beq^eddng some *^ occasion," as any un*
common oeeuneiiee is generally denominated.

<< What can it he that is astir here to-day ?*' said
Isaac to himself'*— ^ Am I brought here to a funeral or
corpse-dbesting, nithout being i^prised of the event ?
It must be so. What else can cause such a bustle about
a house where trouble has so long prevailed ? Ah !
there is also old Robinson, my session-clerk and pre-
cenUn:. He is the true emblem of mortality : then it
is indeed all over with the poor young man I"

Now Robinson had been at so many funerals all over
the country, and was so punctual in his attendance on
all within his reach, that to see him pass, with his staff,
and black coat without the collar, was the very same
thing as if a coffin had gone by. A burial vtras always
a good excuse for fprmg the boys the play, for a re-
freshing walk into the country, and was, besides, a fit
opportunity for moral contemplation, not to say any
thing of hearing the country news. But there was
idso anodier motive, whidi some thought was the
most powerful inducement of any with the old Do-
mime. It arose from diat longing dedire after pre-

102 THE shepherd's CALENDAR.

eminence which reigns in every human hreast, and
which no man fails to improve, however small the cii*-
cle may he in which it can he manifested. At every
funeral, in the absence of the Minister, Rohinson was
called on to say grace ; and when they were both present,
whenever the Parson took up his station in one apart-
ment, the Dominie took up his in another, and thus had
an equal chance, for the time, with his superior. It
was always shrewdly suspected, that the Cl^k tried to
outdo the Minister on such occasions, and certainly
made up in length what he wanted in energy. The ge-
neral remarks on this important point amoimted to this,
*^ that the Dominie was langer than the Minister, and
though he was hardly just sae conceese, yet he meant
as weel ;" and that, " for the maist part, he was siron^er
on the grave" Suffice it, that the appearance of old
Robinson, in the present case, confirmed Isaac in the
belief of the solemnity of the scene awaiting him ; and
as his mind was humbled to acquiesce in the Divine
will, his mild and reverend features were correspondent
therewith. He thought of the disappointment and suf-
ferings of the family, and had already begun in his heart
to intercede for them at the throne of Mercy.

When he came near to the house, out came old
Gawin himself. He had likewise his black coat on,
and his Sunday bonnet, and a hand in each coat-pock-
et ; but for all his misfortime and heavy trials, he strode

THE PRODIGAL SON. 103

to the end of the house with a firm and undismayed
step^r^Ajf he is quite ri^t, thought Isaac to him*
self; that man has his trust where it should be, fix-
ed <m the Rode of Ages ; and he has this assurance,
that the Power on whom he trusts can do nothing
wT(mg. Such a man can look death in the face, un-
dismayed, in all his steps and inroads.

Grawin spoke to some of his homely guests, then
turned round, and came to meet Isaac, whom he salu-
ted, by taking off his bonnet, and shaking him heartily
by the hand* — The bond of restraint had now been
removed from Grawin's lips, and his eye met the Mi-
nister's with the same frankness it was wont. The
face of affidrs was changed since they had last parted.

" How's a' w'ye the day, sir ? — How's a* w*ye ?—
I'm unco blythe to see ye," said Gawin.

<' Oh, quite well, thank you. How are you your-
self? And how are all within ?"

<^ As weel as can be expectit, sir — as weel as can
be expectit."

'^ I am at a little loss, Gawin — Has any change
taken place in family circumstances since I was here ?"

<< Oh, yes ; there has indeed, sir ; a material change
— -I hope for the better."

Gawin now led the way, without further words, into
the house, desiring the Minister to follow him, and

104 THE SHEPHERD'S CALENDAR.

<< tak' care o' his head and the hauks, and no fa' ower
the bit sticky for it was sure to be lying i' the dark."

When Isaac went in, th^re was no one there but the
goodwife, neatly dressed in her black stuff gofwn, and
check apron> with a dose Icerchief on her head, well
crimped in the border, and tied round the crown and
below the chin with a broad black ribbon. She also
saluted 1^ Minister with uncommon frankness —
^' Come away, sir, come away. Dear, dear, how are
ye, the day ? It s but a slaitery kind o' day this, as I
was saying to my man, there ; Dear, dear, Gawin, says
I, I wish the Minister may be nae the waur o' coming
ower the muir the day. That was joost what I said.
And dear, dear, sir, how's Miss Matty, sir ? Oh, it is
lang sin' I hae seen her. I like aye to see Miss Matty,
ye ken, to get a rattle frae her about the folk, ye ken,
and a' our neighbours, that fa' into sinfii' gates; for
there's muckle sin gangs on i' the parish. Ah, ay I I
wat weel that's very true, Miss Matty, says I. But
what can folk help it ? ye ken, folk are no a' made o'
the same metal, as^the aim ta]ig8,-^like you ■ ^ ■ "

— << Bless me with patience I" said Isaac in his
heart; << this poor womanV misfortunes have c)*azed
her ! What a salutation for the house of mourning I"
Iisaac looked to the bed, at liie side of j which he had
so lately kneeled in devotion, and he looked with a re-
verent dread, but the corpse was not there ! It was

THB PRODIGAL 80N. 103

neattjT q[Rread with a dlBan eoTorlicL— It is best to
eonceal the pale and giiodtly f^Btaree of m<Mrtality from
the gaalte^s eye, 'Aoagltt Isaac It is wisely done, for
there imilUBg to be seen in them but what is fitted
for eorhiption*

^ QlKWia, Ml tiae ye tak* the Minister ben the house,
or the rest o* the clanjamphery come in ?** said the
tallcatit^f'dame;'-^^^ Hont, ay, sir, step your ways ben
the house. We hae a ben end and a but end the day,
as wed as the best o' them. And ye're ane o' our ain
folk, ye ken. Ah, ay I I wat weel that's rery true !
As I said to my man, Gawin, quo' I, whenerer I see
OUT Minffiter*8 fate, I tfnnk I see the face of a friend.''

<< Gudewife, I hae £ut just ae word to say, by way
o' remark," said Gawin ; ^ folk wha count afore the
change-keeper, hae often to count twice, and sae has
the held, wim counts his hogs afore Beltan. — Come
this way, sir; follow me, and tak' care o' your head
and tike banks."

Isaac followed into the rustic parlour, where he x^as
intit>dneed to one he little expected to see sitting there.
This was no <^ther than the shepherd s son, who had
so long been ftttended on as a dying person, and with
whom Isaac had so lately prayed, in the most fervent
devotion, as with one of whose life little hope was en-
tertained. There he sat, with legs like two poles,
hai<ds like the hands of a skeleton ; yet his emaciated

E 2

106 THE shepherd's CALENDAR.

features were lighted up with a smile of serenity and
joy. Isaac was petrified. He stood still on the spot,
even though the young man ros^ up to receive him.
He deemed he had come there to see his lifeless form
laid in the coffin, and to speak words of comfort to the
survivors. He was taken hy surprise, and his heart
thrilled with unexpected joy.

" My dear young fHend, do I indeed see you thus ?"
he said, taking him kindly and gently hy the hand.
" God has been mercifol to you, above others of your
race. I hope, in the mercy that has saved you from
the gates of death, that you feel grateful for your de-
liverance ; for, trust me, it behoves you to do so, in no
ordinary degree.*'

<^ I shall never be able to feel as I ought, either to
my deliverer or to yourself," said he. " Till once I
heard the words of truth and seriousness from your
mouth, I have not dared, for these many years, to
think my own thoughts, speak my own words, or per-
form the actions to which my soid inclined. I have
been a truant from the school of truth ; but have now
returned, with all humility, to my Master, for I feel
that I have been like a wayward boy, groping in the
dark, to find my way, though a path splendidly light-
ed up lay open for me. But of these things I long ex-
ceedingly to converse with you, at frdl length and full
leisiire. In the meantime, let md introduce you to

THE PRODIGAL SON. 107

Other firiends who are longing for some little notice*
Thi3 is my sister, sir ; and— shake hands with the Mi-
nistery Jane— -And do you know this young lady, sir,
with the. mantle ahout her, who seems to expect a
word fipom yon, acknowledging old acquaintance ?"
My eyes are grown so dim now,** said old Isaac,

that it is with difficulty I can distinguish young peo*
pie finm one another, unless they speak to me* But
she will not look up. Is this my dear young friend,
Mies Mary Sibbet r

^ Nay, sir, it is not she. But I think, as you two
i^proadi one another, your plaids appear yery nearly
the same."

<< Phemyl My own child Phemy I Is it yourself?
Why did you not speak ?— But you have been an alien
of late, and a stranger to me. Ah, Phemy I Riemy !
I haye been hearing bad news of you. But I did not
believe them— no, I would not belieye them."

Euphemia for a while uttered not a word, but keep*
ing fast hold of her grandfather's hand, she drew it un-
der her mantle, and crept imperceptibly a degree near-
er to his breast. The old man waited for some reply,
standing as in the act of listening ; till at length, in a
trembling whisper, scarcely audible, she repeated these
sacred words— << Father, forgiye me, for I knew not
what I did I" The expression had the effect desired on
Isaac's mind. It brought to his remembrance that

108 THE shepherd's CALENDAR.

gfflciid^ petitiofl^Hhe most fully fraiaght vMi tniercy
itfMi foi^mc$tof^^tevin'Trtt» uttered on ^aErth> aAd
bcrw6<i lis'Wkote %^1 er ^oe' to fdllow di^ piittem^ of
kis^gl^St' Mdst^i. Hit^ eyebeuned with extiltaiion in
his'R«d<d«iii^'l%K)^i^e^> and he answered, ^< Yes, my
ekttd, yes. He wlTesfe w*ords you hare^linwoHiiily ta-
k^i^willfikOt-rt^ti^tte petition of any of Ins repent-
ant chydi^n,' howete^ great them en^rHiitres may have
been ;tand^t^fay should '^ch a ci^eatute as I am pre-
sume to pretend indignation and offence^ at 'aught iVu*-
tfaer than ' his h%h example' warrants ? May the Al-

BWghty^iftirigive ydti as I d(>r

" May Heaven bless and reward you !" "feaid ^
yotrng" man* ** But she is' bkmdess-^atn^esd as the
babe on the knee^ i akme-am the^guilty'per^, tvho
infringed the lights of hosptt8li!tjr;an^ had iiettlyltt^eii
the bonds of confidence and l<^ve; ' But I imi h^r^-to-
day to makeyorofifer at least, what umends k iu-my
pewer^i^to oJ9c^ her my httHd'in'Wedtoek ; tinifrwhe-
ther I ^ve ordie,'idie'may Kv^'Without'cftshcoaK^
reverend sii^ all d^endi on ycmr fi^t. Witliout your
i^probation slie will :€onaent to nothing t^nmyittg, that
^ehado£yided'deeplybylaking bet iowuwilld&e^biit
nen^t ahoddever iotdtfee her to takenit unffMsedly
again. It was for this purpose that we-sent for you
so expres^yto^day,^ namely^ ibat I might entreat your
consent to 6nr union. I could not be removed from

TAB PRODIOAl. SON. 109

home, so that we oioiild not all meet, to know one an-
iMher^B nundy in any other phoe. We therefore awah
yonrtyprobttionwith earnest anxiety, as that on whidi
our future haippiuesi depends*

After Bome mfld and impressiTe reprehensions, Isaac's
eoDtoenft was giTen in the most unqoaKfied manner, and
tiie names were giren in to the old Dominie's hand^
wttli pro|ier TOueho^ for die publication of the hana.
The wlHiole parly ^Dned together at old Gawin's. I was
there'aiiMmg'die test^and thought to enjoy the party ex-
oee^ngly ; hut die party was too formal, and too much
on the reserve before the Minister. I noted down, when
I went home, all the CouTersation, as far as I could
remember it, but it is not worth copying. I see that
Gnwih%femaxk9 are alt measured and pompous, and,
moreover,' dcHitered in a sort of bastard English, a lan-
guage whfeh I detest. He considered hiknself as now
to -lie nearfy connected with the Mame Pamify, and
looking finward to an eldership in the church, deemed
it IncnmbiBnton him to talk in amost sage and instmc-
five manner. The young shepherd, and an associate
of his, talked of dogs, Cheviot tups, and some rematk-
ably bonny lasses that sat in the west gallery of the
cfaurdi. John Orierson of the Hope recited what they
d^ed ^ lang skelps o' metre,** a sort of homely rhymesi
that some of them pronounced to be << far ayont Bums's
fit." And the goodwife ran bustling about ; but when-

110 THE shepherd's CALENDAR.

ever she could get a little leisure, she gave her tongue
free yent, without regard either to Minister or Domi-
nie. She was too well trained in the old homely
Scotch, to attempt any of the flights, which to Gawin,
who was more sparing in his Ispeech, were more easy
to he accomplished. << Dear, dear, sirs, can nae ye eat
away? Ye hae nae the stamacks o' as mony cats.
Dear, dear, I'm sure an the flesh he nae good, it sude
be good, for it neyer saw either braxy or breakwind,
bleer-«e nor Beltan pock, but was the cantiest crock o'
the Kaim-law. Dear, dear, Johnie Grierson, tak' an-
other riye o't, and set a good example ; as I said to my
man there, Grawin, says I, it's weel kenn'd ye're nae
flae-bitten about the gab ; and I said yery true too."

Many such rants did she indulge in, always reminding
her guests that <' it was a names-gieing-in, whilk was,
o' a' ither things, the ane neist to a wedding," and of-
ten hinting at their new and honourable alliance, scarce-
ly eyen able to keep down the way in which it was
brought about; for she once went so far as to say,
'^ As I said to my gudeman, Gawin, says I, for a' the
fy-gae-to ye hae made, it's weel kenn'd faint heart ne-
ver wan fair lady. Ay, weel I wat, that's very true, says
I ; a bird in the hand is worth twa on the bush.— Won
a' to and fill yoursells, sirs ; there's routh o' mair where
that came frae. It's no aye the fattest foddering that
mak's the fa'est aumry — and that's nae lee."

THE PRODIGAL SON. Ill

Miss Matilda, the Minister's maiden daughter,
in towering indignation about the marriage, and the
comiezion with a shepherd's fomily ; and it was m-
moared over all the parish that she would never coun-
tenance her niece any more. How matters went at
first it is perhaps as well for Miss MatUda's reputation,
in point of good-nature, that I am not able to say ;
but the last time I was at the Manse, the once profli-
gate and freethinking student had become Helper to
old Isaac, and was beloved and revoied by idl the pa^
rish, for the warmth of his devotion, and soundness of
his principles. His amiable wife Euphemia had two
sons, and their aunt Matty was nursing them with a
fondness and love beyond that which she bore to fife
itself.

In conclusion, I have only further to remark, that I
have always considered the prayers of that good old
man as having been peculiarly instrumental in saving
a wretched victim, not only from immediate death, but
iitmi despair of endless duration.

112 THE shepherd's CALENDAR.

CHAPTER IV.

THE SCHOOL OF MISFORTUNE.

The varkms ways in wbicfa misfortniies afiect dif-
fereat miadfir, are oft^ so opposite, tbat in xontemph-
ting tfaem^ we may well be led to snpposedie human
soiklr animated and directed in some persons by corpo-
ral functions, formed after a different manner ft^om
those of others — ^persons of the same family frequ^tly
difiering imist widely in this respect.

li will appofor, on a philosophic' scrutiny of human
fisdingi^ tKat ihe extremes of ' laughing and crying are
more nearly allied Aan ia sbmetimes believed. With
children, the one frequently dwindles, or'breaks out into
the other. I once happened to sit beside a negro, in the
pit of the Edinburgh theatre, while the tragedy of Dou-
glas was performiug. As the dialogue between Old Nor-
val and Lady Randolph proceeded, he grew more and
more attentive ; his eyes grew very large, and seemed
set immovably in one direction; the tears started
from them ; his features went gradually awry ; his un-

THE SCHOOL OF MIBFOBTUNB. 113

der-1^ duM and tamed to one aide ; and jnat when I
expected that he was gomg to ay outright, he hunt
into the moat violent fit of laughter.

I have a female friend, on whom unfortunate acci-
dents have the singular effect of causing violent laugh-
ter, which, with her, is much hotter proportioned to the
calandtYf than crying is with many others of the sex* I
have se^i the losing of a rubber at whist, when there
was every probability that her party would gain it,
cause her to laugh till her eyes streamed with tears.
The breaking of s ture^oi, or set of valuable china,
would quite convulse her. Danger always makes her
sing, and misfortunes laugh. If we hear her in any
apartment oi the farm-house, or the offices, singing very
loud, and very quick, we ace sure something is on the
pc»nt of going wrong with her ; but if we hear her burst
out a-lau^^bing, we know that it is past redemption.
Her memory is extremely defective ; indeed she scarce-
ly seems to retain any perfect recollection of past
events ; but her manners are gentle, easy, and engaging ;
her temper good, and her humour inexhaustible ; and,
with all her singularities, she certainly enjoys a greater
share of happiness than her chequered fortune could
possibly have bestowed on a mind differently consti-
tuted.

I have another near relation, who, besides bemg pos-
sessed of an extensive knowledge in liti^vture, and a

. 114 THE shepherd's CALENDAR.

refined taste, is endowed with every qualification re-
quisite to constitute the valuable friend, the tender pa-
rent, and the indulgent husband ; yet his feelings, and
his powers of conception, ai*e so constructed, as to ren-
der him a constant prey to corroding care. No man
can remain many daysm his company without saying,
in his heart, << that man was made to be unhappy.''
What others view as slight misfortunes, affect him
deeply; and in the event of any such happening to
himself, or those that are dear to him, he will groan
from his inmost soul, perhaps for a whole evening after
it first comes to his knowledge, and occasionally, for
many days afterwards, as the idea recurs to him. In-
deed, he never wants something to make him miser-
able ; for, on being made acquainted with any favour-
able turn of fortune, the only mark of joy that it pro-
duces is an involuntary motion of the one hand to
scratch the other elbow ; and his fancy almost instan-
taneously presents to him such a number of difficulties,
dangers, and bad consequtoces attending it, that though
I have often hoped to awake him to joy by my tidings,
I always left him more miserable than I found him.

I have another acquaintance whom we denomi-
nate << the Knight," who falls upon a method totally dif-
ferent to overcome misfortunes. In the event of any
cross accident, or vexatious circumstance, happening to
himj he makes straight towards his easy chair — sits

THE SCHOOL OF MISFORTUNE. 1 15

calmly down upon it— denchee his right hand, with the
exceptftcm of hb fore-finger, which is suffered to con-
tinne straight — strikes his fist violently against lus left
shoulder — keepB it in that position, with lus eyes fixed
on <Hie particular point, till he has cursed the event and
all connected with it most heartily, — ^then, with a coun-
tenance of perfect good-humour, he indulges in a plea-
sant lau^ and if it is possible to draw a comical or ri-
diculous inference from the whole, or any part of the
affidr, he is sure to do it, that the laugh may be kept
1^. If he fails in effecting this, he again resumes his
former posture, and consigns all connected with the
vexatious circumstance to the devil ; then takes another
good hearty laugh ; and in a few minutes the affjedr is no
more heard or thought of.

John Leggat is a bd about fifteen, a character of
great singularity, whom nature seems to have formed
in one of her whims. He is not an entire idiot, for he
can perform many offices about his master's house-
herd the cows, and run errands too, provided there be
no dead horses on the road, nor any thing extremely
ugly ; for, if there be, the time of his return is very un-
certain. Among other anomalies in lus character, the
way that misfortunes affect him is not the least striking.
He once became warmly attached to a young hound,
which was likewise very fond of him, pajring him all
the grateful respect so often exhibited by that faithfal

116 THE shepherd's CALENDAR.

animal. John loved him above all earthly things— -
some even thought that he loved him better than his
own fl(^h and blood. The hound one day came to an
imtimely end. John never got such sport in his life ;
he was convulsed with laughter when he contemplated
the features of his dead friend. When about his ordi-
nary business, he was extremely melancholy ; but when-
ever he came and looked at the carcass, he was trans-
ported with delight, and expressed it by the most ex-
travagant raptures. He next attached himself to a tur-
key-cock, which he trained to come at his call, and pur-
sue and attack such pec^e as he pointed out for that
purpose. John was very fond of this amusement ; but
it proved fatal to his favoimte— an irritated passenger
knocked it dead at a stroke. This proved another
source of unbounded merriment to John ; the stiff half-
spread wing, the one leg stretched forward, and the
other back, were' hifimtely amusing ; but the abrupt
crook in his neck— -his tumed*up eye and open bill
were quite irresistible-— John laughed at them till he
Was quite exhausted. Few ever loved their friends
better than John did while they were alive ; no man
was ever so much delighted with them after they were
dead.

The most judicious way of encountering misfortunes
of every kind, is to take up a firm resolution never to
shrink from them when they cannot be avoided, nor

THE 8CHOOL OF MISFORTUNB. 117

yet be tamely ofBicome by tbem, or add to oxa anguish
byunleBB repiiimgy bnty by a steady aad cheerful per*
severancis flwiteaYour to make the best of whatever un-
toward eveiit occurs. To do so, still remains in our
power ; and it is. a grieyoas loss indeed, with regard to
fortune ev fanmr, that perseveiance will not, sooner or
later, orercome. I do not recommend a stupid insen-
sible apathy with regard to the affairs of life, nor yet
that listless inactive resignation which persuades a qjau
to pot his hands in his bosom, and saying, It is the will
of Heaven, sink under embarrassments without a strug-
gle. The contempt which is his due will infallibly
overtake such a man, and poverty and wretchedness
will press hard upon his dechning years.

I had an old and valued Mend in the country, who,
on any. cross accident happening that vexed his associ-
ates, made always the following observations : ^^ There
are just two kinds of misfortunes^ gentlemen, at which
it is foUy either to be grieved or angry ; and these are,
things that can be remedied, and things that cannot be
remedied." He then proved, by plain demonstration,
that the case under consideration belonged to one or
other of these classes, and showed how vain and uu-i
profitable it was to be grieved or angry at it. This
maxim of my friend's may be rather too comprehen-
sive ; but it is nevertheless a good one ; for a resolu-
tion to that effect cannot fail of leading a man to the

.d

118 THE shepherd's CALENDAR,

proper mode of action. It indeed comprehends all
things whatsoever, and is as much as to say, that a man
should never suffer himself to grow angry at all ; and,
upon the whole, I think, if the matter be candidly
weighed, it will appear, that the man who suffers him-
self to be transported with anger, or teased by regret,
is commonly, if not always, the principal sufferer by it,
either immediately, or in future. Rage is unlicensed,
and runs without a curb. It lessens a man's respecta-
bility among his contemporaries ; grieves and hurts the
feelings of those connected with him ; harrows his own
soul ; and transforms a rational and accountable crea-
ture into the image of a fiend*

Impatience under misfortunes is certainly one of the
failings of our nature, which contributes more than any
other to imbitter the cup of life, and has been the im-
mediate cause of more acts of ^desperate depravity than
any passion of the hiunan soul. The loss of fortune or
flavour is particularly apt to give birth to this torment-
ing sensation ; for, as neither the one nor the other oc-
curs frequently without some imprudence or neglect of
our own having been the primary cause, so the reflec-
tion on that always furnishes the gloomy retrospect
with its principal sting.

So much is this the case that I hold it to be a posi-
tion almost incontrovertible, that out of every twenty
worldly misfortunes, nineteen occur in consequence of

THE SCHOOL OF MISFORTUNE. 119

our OWB improdence. Many will tell yon, it was
owing to saeh and such a Mend's impradence that
they sustained all their losses. No such thing. Whose
impmdence or want of foresight was it that trusted
sadi ft friend, and put it in his power to rain them,
and redooe the fiBonilies that depended on them for
suppcHTt, from a state of aflflnence to one of penury and
hitter regret ? If the abore position is admitted, then
there is, as I have already remarked, but one right
and proper way in which misfortunes ought to affect
us ; namely, by stirring us up to greater circumspec-
tion and perseverance. Perseverance is a noble and
inestimable- virtue I There is scarcely any difficulty or
danger ibat it will not surmount. Whoever observes
a man bearing up under worldly misfortunes, with un-
daunted resolution, will rarely fail to see that man ul-
timately successful. And it may be depended on,
that circumspection in business is a quality so abso-
lutely necessary, that without it the success of any
one will only be temporary.

The present Laird of J — s — ^y, better known by the
appellation of Old Sandy Singlebeard, was once a
common hired shepherd, but he became master of the
virtues above recommended, for he had picked them
up in the severe school of misfortune. I have heard
him relate the circumstances myself, oftener than
once* ^< My father had bought me a stock of sheep,*'

120 THE shepherd's CALENDAR.

said he, f^ aad filted me out as a shepherd ; and from
the pr<^ts <^ tb^se, I had plenty of money to spend,
and lay out; j^p good clothes ; so that I was accounted
a thriving. lad) and rather a dashing blade among the
lasses. Chancing to change my master at a term, I
sold my sheep to the man who came in my place, and
bought those of the shepherd that went from the flock
to which I was engaged* But when the day of pay-
ment camoj the man who bought: my sheep could not
pay them, and williout that money, I had not where-
with to pay mine own. He put me ofiP from week to
week, until the matter grew quite distressing ; for, as
the price of shepherds' stock goes straight onward
from one hand to another, probably twenty, or perhaps
forty peojde, were all kept out of their right by this
baclfwardness of my debtor. I craved him for the
money every two or three days, grumbled, and threat-
ened a prosecution, till at last my own stock was
poinded. Thinking I should be disgraced beyond re-
covery, I exerted what little credit I had, and borrow-
ed as much as relieved my stock ; and then, being a
good deal exasperated, resorted immediately to legal
measures, as they are called, in order to recover the
debt due to me, the non-payment of which had alone
occasioned my own difficulties. Notwithstanding eve-
ry exertion, however, I could never draw a farthing
from my debtor, and only got deeper and deeper into

8

THE SCHOOL OF mSFOBTTKB. 121

expeoaes to no pmpoee. Many a day it kept me bare
and busy before I coakl dear my feet» and make my-
self aa bee and independent as I was before. Thia
was the beginning of my misfortmMSy b«t it was bat
the beginning ; year after year I kMt and loat, mitfl
my litde all was as good as three times sold off at the
ground ; and at last I was so reduced, that I conld not
say the clothes I wore were my own*

<< This win never do, thought I ; they shall cnck
weU that peraoade me to sell at random aganiL — ^Ae-
cordin^y, I thenceforth took good care of all my sales
that came to any amonnt. My rale was, to sell my
little things, sudi as wool, lambs, and hi dieep, worth
the money ; and not to part with them tiD I got the
price in my hand. This plan I nerer roed ; and people
finding how the case stood, 1 had always plenty of
merchants; so that i would recommend it to ererj
man who depends for procuring the means of liring on
business such as mine. What does it signify to sdl
your stodc at a great price, merely for a boast, if yon
never get the money for it? It wiU be long ere that
make any one rich or independent ! This did all very
well, but still I found, on looking over my accounts at
the end of the year, that there were a great many items
in which I was regularly taken in. My shoemaker
(Jiarged me half-arciown more for every pair of shoes
than I could have bought them for in a maiket for
VOL. I. r

122 THE shepherd's calendar*

ready money ; the smith, threepence more for shoeing
them. My haherdasher s and tailor's accoimts were
scandalous. In shirts, stockings, knives, razors, and
even in shirt-neck buttons, I found myself taken in to
a certain amount. But I was never so astonished, as
to find out, by the plain rules of addition and subtrac-
tion, assisted now and then by the best of all practical
rules — (I mean the one that says, < if such a thing will
bring such a thing, what will such and such a number
bring ?') — to find, I say, that the losses and profits in
small things actually come to more at the long-run,
than any casual great slump loss, or profit, that usu-
ally chances to a man in the course of business. Wo
%o the man who is not aware of this I He is labour-
ing for that which will not profit him. By a course of
stiict economy, I at length not only succeeded in clear-
ing off the debt I had incurred, but saved as much money
as stocked the farm of Windlestrae-knowe. That proved
a fair bargain; so, when the lease was out, I took Dod-
jdysdamms in with it ; and now I am, as you see me,
the Laird of J — s — y, and farmer of both these besides.
My success has been wholly owing to this : — misfor-
tune made me cautious — caution taught me a lesson
which is not obvious to every one, namely the mighty
importance of the tioo right-hand columns in addition,
.The two left-hand ones, those of pounds and shillings,
every one knows the value of. With a man of any com-

THE SCHOOL OF MlftFOBTTirB. 125

mon abilities^ those will take eve of ilmiMilrtat ; b«l
he that neglects the pence and fiuiyngBMrng^oMr!" —

Any one who reads this will sec down old Single-
beard as a miser ; hat I scarcely know a Ban l«a» de-
serving the character. If one is puseni to hear
settling an accoont with another^ he canncrt hrlfp
ing him niggardly, owing to his extaordinary mnSkf
in small matters ; bat there is no Ban whom
era like better to deal with, owing to hit Ufeh
and punctnality. He will not pocket a fcrihing thai is
the right of anyman living, and he is alwavvan the mtdb
lest some designing fellow ovemacfa bias in theke 881-
note pardcolars. For all tins, he has assiirted mamw of
his po(H- relations with money and credit, winm he
thought them deserving it, or jndged thas it ocpold be
of any benefit to them ; bat ahrajrs with the utnuueat
injoncdons of seoecy, and an assnnneey that, if ertr
they hinted the transaction to any one, they fatitsted
all chance of £ulher assisunoe from hiss. The
qoence of this has always been, that whik; he
ing a great deal of good to otherb by his cnsdit, he wis

railing against the syrten of giving aedit all the whife ;
so that those who knew him not, took bias Cor a seifidk,
contracted, chaiiish old rascaL

He was <mce applied to in behalf of a nephew, who
had some hir prospects of setting op in bnsineas. He
thongfat the stake too high, and declined it; for it wis

124 THG shepherd's calendar.

a rule with him, never to credit any one so far as to
put it in hiB power to distress him, or drive him into
any emharrassment. A few months afterwards, he con-
sented to become bound for one half of the sum re*
quired, and the other half was made up by some less
wealthy relations in conjunction. The bonds at last
became due, and I chanced to be present on a visit to
my old fHend Singlebeard, when the yoiug man came
to request his uncle s quota of the money required. I
knew nothing of the matter, but I could not help no-
ticing the change in old Sandy's look, the moment that
his nephew made his appearance. I suppose he thought
him too foppish to be entirely dependent on the credit
of others, and perhaps judged lus success in business,
on that accoimt, rather doubtful. At all events, the
old Laird had a certain quizzical, dissatisfied look, that
I never observed before ; and all his remarks were in
conformity with it. In addressing the young man, too,
he used a degree of familiarity which might be war-
ranted by his seniority and relationship, and the cir-
cumstances in which his nephew stood to him as an
obliged party ; but it was intended to be as provoking
as possible, and obviously did not fail to excite a good
deal of uneasy feeling.

" That's surely a very fine horse of yours, Jock ?"
said the Lairds— -<< Hech, man, but he is a sleek ane !

THE SCHOOL OF MUFOIITCNE. 125

How modi eom does he est in a year, thaa bimter of
yonrsy Jock?"

^ Not nnidi, nr, not mnch. He is a yery fine hone
that, uncle. Look at his shoulder; and see what
limbs he has ; and what a pastern ! — ^How mnch do
yon siqipose sndi a horse wonld be worth, now,
under

** Why, Jock, I cannot help thinking he is smn^
thing like Geordy Dean's dangfater-in-law, — nonghi
but a spindle-shankit deYil I I wonld not wonder if he
had cost yon eighteen pounds, that greyhound of a
creature?

^ What a [Mime judge you are ! Why, uncle, that
horse cost eighty-fiye guineas last autumn. He is a
real blood horse that ; and has won a great deal of ▼»-
Inable pkte."

** Oh I that, indeed, alters the case I And hare yon
got all that Yaluable plate ?"

^ Nay, nay ; it was before he came to my hand."

^ That was rather a pity now, Jock — ^I cannot help
thinking that was a great pity ; because if you had got
the plate, you would hare had something you could
hare called your own<i — So, you don't know how much
com that fellow eats in a year?**

<< Indeed I do not ; he nerer gets above three feeds
in a day, unless when he is on a journey, and then he
takes fiye or six.** .

1% THE shepherd's CALENDAR/

^ Then take an average of four: four feeds are
worth two shillings at least, as com is selling. . There
is fourteen shillings a-week : fourteen times fifty-two
-—why, Jock, there is L.36, 8s. for horse's com ; and
there will he about half as much, or more, for hay, be-
sides : on the whole, I find he will cost you about
L.50 a-year at livery. — I suppose there is an absolute
necessity that a manufacturer should keep such a
horse r

" O I God bless you, sir, to be sure. We must ga-
ther in money and orders, you know. And then, con-
sider the ease and convenience of travelling on such a
creature as that, compared with one of your vile low-
bred hacks ; one goes through the country as he were
flying, on that animal."

Old Sandy paddled away from the stable, towards
ihe house, chuckling and laughing to himself; but
again tumed roimd, before he got half-way. — '< Right,
Jock I quite right. Nothing like gath^ing in plenty
of money and orders. But, Jock, hark ye— I do not
think there is any necessity for flyivijg when one is on
such a commission. You should go leisurely and slow^
ly through the towns and villages, keeping all your
eyes about you, and using every honest art to ob-
tain good customers. How can you do this, Jock, if
you go as you were flying through the country ? Peo-
ple, instead of giving you a good order, will come to

THK 8CBOOL Of JOSVOBTrXB. 1^

their Bhop-door, «im1 wjr — ^Tbere goes the Fljiag M»>
mifMStiiier ! — Jodc, they waj a roUiBg steae Berer §•-
then any moss. Hmr tiir jim think n Hjwg mwr Acmld
gather it ?7^

The diakigiie went on in the name
half-jeering tone aD the fofcnoooy ai wdl
dinner, while a great munher of qneriee tdU
to be put to the yoong man; a»— How orach hit lod|f»
ingB cost, him a-year ? The answer to this aitoanded
old Sandy. His comprphensjon could lanfly take it
in; he opened his eyes wide, and held ap his
exclaiming^ wilh a great harst of bfeath, ^ What
mons pofits there mast he in your bwHaeasr
then the Laird pooeeded with his proroldag iaterro>
gatories — ^How modi did his nephew's fine boots and
spurs cost? what was his tailor's bill yearly? aad
ev^y thing in the saase manner ; as if the yoong gen-
tleman had come from a foreign ooontryy of which
Sandy Singlebeard wished to note down every parti-
cnlar. , The nephew was a little in the fidgets, hot
knowing the. groond on which he stood, he answered
all his ancle's qoeries hot too truly, impressing <m his
frugal mind a hr greater idea of his own expenditare
than was necessary, and which my old friend could
not help viewing as utterly extravagant.

Iipmediately on the removal of the doth, the yoong
gentlemaa withdrew into another room, and sending

128 THE SH£PH£HD*S CALENDAR.

for his uncle to speak with him, he there explained
the nature of his errand, and how absolutely necessary
it was for him to have the money, for the relief of his
bond. Old Sandy was off in a twinkling. He had no
money for him — ^not one copper ! — ^not the yalue of a
hair of his thin grey beard should he have from him I
He had other uses for his money, and had won it too
hardly to give it to any one to throw away for him on
grand rooms and carpets, upon flying horses, and four-
,<guinea boots I

They returned to the parlour, and we drank some
whisky toddy together. There was no more gibing
and snappishness. The old man was ciidl and atten-
tive, but the face of the young one exhibited marks of
anger and despair. He took his leave, and went away
abruptly enough ; and I began to break some jests on
the Flying Manufacturer, in order to try the humour
of my entertainer. I soon found it out ; old Single-
beard's shaft was shot, and he now let me know he
had a different opinion of his nephew from what had
been intimated by the whole course of his conversa-
tion with the yoiug man himself. He said he was a
good lad ; an ingenious and honest one ; that he scarce-
ly knew a better of his years ; but he wanted to curb
a little that upsetting spirit in him, to which every
young man new to business was too much addicted.

The young gentleman w^it to his other friends in

THE SCHOOL OP HBffOBITXB. 12t

a tad pickle^ «id

ed beyond afl redres; iipiotoi^ aO

iU-tiHied peavf.

The moai pvl of the yoog
were k deep iftiiy^ ia c<wiig<pwcg of the LaM*« io»
iiual to perlbnB ye eaga^cflMBt. D«t one of
after IJetgoJng eeffiowJy to tbe aanatiea, MMOead of
ing Texedy only kng^ied hnmodfiatdy al tlie wkt4e
ftoTy and eaid he had nerer heaid aay tUaf ao I
tndy hi^croue. ^ Go yovo- wayi hoaw, aad
hoemeeB," eaid he ; ^ yon do boC kaow aay thiaf of old
uncle Sandy : leave the whc^ antter to bk, and I ahafl
answer for his share of the coneerB.**

^ Yon win be answeiaUe at yoar own cost, theai,*'
said the nephew. ^ If the money is not paid tiU he ad-
vance it, dbe sum wiU nerer be paid on thb side of tiaM.
— ^Yon may aa well try to extrKt it from dbe rock oa
the side of the momitain."

^ Go yoor ways,** said the other. "^ It is eHdnt
that yon can do nothing in the bosiness ; but wene the
sum three times the amount of what it is, I shall be
answerable for it."

It turned out precisely aa das gentleonn pre£cted;
but no man wiU conceire old fitand/s modre for refu-
sing that which he was in fret bound to perform : He
could not besr ta haTO it known thai he had done so

v2

30 THE shepherd's CALENDAR.

liberal and generous an action, and wished to manage
matters so, that his nephew might believe the money
to have been raised in some other way attended with
the utmost difficulty. He could not put his nephew to
the. same school in which he himself had been taught,
namely, the School of Actual Adversity ; but he want-
ed to give him a touch of Ideal Misfortune ; that he
might learn the value of independence.

GEOBBE IK>B*60XS KKFEIHTIOX TO KBU* JSl

CHAPTER V.

GEOBGE DOBBOM'b MJEfEDlTtOM TO UELU

There is no phenomoMMi in maimn lern
and about wiiich greater nonacnae it
dreammg. It is a atrange tUng. For aij part, I dm
not undemand it, nor hare I anj dene t« do ao ; and
I innljr beliere that no phjlnaophrr tint ever wiatie
knows a particle more about it than i do, bowew
elaborate and subtle the theoriea he mayadfianoe
ceming it. He knows not even what sleep is,
can he define its nature, ao aa to enable anjr
mind to comprehend him ; and how, then, csn he
that ethereal part of it, wherein the aoal holds
coiuse with the external world ? — how, in that
of abstraction, some ideas force themselres uptm m^
in spite of all oar effiprts to get rid of them ; while
others, which we have resolred to bear aboot with vs
bjr night as well as by day, refase as their ieilowshipy
eren at periods whm we most reqaire their aid ?

Noy no ; the ^ukMopher knows nothing aboot eitbar ;

132 THE shepherd's calendar.

and if he says he does, I entreat you not to believe
him. He does not know what mind is ; even his own
mind, to which one would think he has the most direct
access: far less can he estimate the operations and
powers of that of any other intelligent being. He
does not even know, with all his subtlety, whether it
be a power distinct from his body, or essentially the
same, and only incidentally and temporarily endowed
with different qualities. He sets himself to discoYer
at what period of his existence the union was establish-
ed. He is baffled ; for Consciousness refuses the in-
telligence, declaring, that she cannot carry him far
Plough back to ascertain it. He tries to discover the
precise moment when it is dissolved, but on this Con-
sdousness is altogether silent ; and all is darkness and
mystery; for the origin, the manner of continuance,
vnd the time and mode of breaking up of the union be-
tween soul and body, are in reality imdiscoverable by
our natural faculties — are not patent, beyond the pos-
sibility of mistake : but whosoever can read his Bible,
and solve a dream, can do either, without being sub-
jected to any material error.

It is on this ground that I like to contemplate, not
the theory of dreams, but the dreams themselves ; be-
cause they prove to the unlettered man, in a very for-
cible manner, a distinct existence of the soul, and its
lively and rapid intelligence with external nature, as

GEOBOK DOBBOM's KZPXDITIOV TO WELL, ISf

well as with m worid of ipinta wkk whkk it hm ■•
aoqaaintaiioey wliai die body k lyiaf
the same to thesool ai if ilccpiagia de
I acoomH aolliiag of aaj dreaa that
acdoDS of the day ; the penoo m aoc
dreams aboat these dngs; there ii
tipeen oiatler and miiidy hat dieyaa
in a sort of diaos— wiiat aiaiaMJ wiwdd cafl
— fennentiii^ sad dMtmhiBi^ sbs SBOoKr. I
in all dieaBM of that hnd, aica of etcry
hare dreaaM pecaliar to their owa
in the coantry, at leart, their ianpart is (RoenDy
defstood. ETcry man s body is a barameler. A
made vp of the elements anvt be alfertcd by
▼arioos dianges and coralsions; sad so Ae body as-
sniedlyw. Whea I was a shepherd, smI aD the esai*
forts of my life depended so mach on good sr bad
weather, the first thing I did erery sMiaiag was strict
ly to OTerhanl the dreams of die night ; sad I feaad
that I conld calcakte better from them thai from dba
appearance and dianges of the iky. I know a keen
sportsman, adio pretends that his dreams aererdeeeifis
him. If he dresm of sngling, or panaiag sahaoa m
deep waters, he is sore of raia; bat if fiibiag oadry
groand, or in waters so low that the fish caanot get
from him, it forebodes drooght; hantiag or shooting
hares, is snow, aadmoorfenHyWaMl, Ik. Battfae

134 THE shepherd's calendar.

extraordinary professional dream on record is, without
all doubt, that well-known one of George Dohson,
coach- driver in Edinburgh, which I shall here relate ;
for though it did not happen in the shepherd's cot, it
has often been recited there.

George was part proprietor and driver of a hackney-
coach in Edinburgh, when such vehicles were scarce ;
and one day a gentleman, whom he knew, came to
him and said : — << George, you must drive me and my

son here out to ," a certain place that he named,

somewhere in the vicinity of Edinburgh.

*' Sir," said George, " I never heard tell of such a
place, and I cannot drive you to it imless you give me
very particular directions."

<< It is false," returned the gentleman ; << there is no
man in Scotland who Imows the road to that place bet-
ter than you do. You have never driven on any other
road all your life ; and I insist on your taking us."

"Very well, sir," said George, " Fll drive you to
hell, if you have a mind ; only you are to direct me on
the road."

" Mount and drive on, then," said the other ; " and
no fear of the road."

George did so, and never in his life did he see his
horses go at such a noble rate; they snorted, they
pranced, and they flew on ; and as the whole road ap-
peared to lie down-hill, he deemed that he should soon

GBOBeB7K>BBON's BZPEDITION TO HELL. 1S5

come to his jonrae/s end. Still he drove on at the
same rate, ftur, hr down-hill,-— and so fine an open road
he nerer traYelled,— till by degrees it grew so daik
that he could not see to drive any farther. He called
to the gentleman, inquiring what he should do ; who
answered, that this was the place they were bound to^
so. he might draw up, dismiss them, and return. He
did so, alighted from the dickie, wondered at his foam*
ing horses, and forthwith opened the coach-door, hM
the rim of his hat with the one hand, and with the
other demanded his fare. -

^ You have driven us in fine style, Greorge," said
the elder gentleman, << and deserve to be remembered ;
but it is needless for us to settle just now, as you must
meet us heare again to-morrow precisely at twelve
o'clock.*'

<^ Very well, sir,'' said George ; '< there is likewise
an old. account, you know, and some toll-money;"
which indeed there was.

^< Itshall be all settled to-morrow, George, and more*
over, I fear there will be some toll-money to-day."

« I perceived no tolls to-day, your honour," said
George.

<< But I perceived one, and not very far back neither,
which I suspect you will have difficulty in repassing
without a regular ticket. What a pity I have no
change on me I"

136 THE shepherd's calendar.

<< I never saw it otherwise with your honour," said
George^ joeukrly ; << what a pity it is you should al-
ways suffer yourself to run short of change I'*

<< I will give you that which is as good, George,"
•aid the gentleman ; and he gave him a ticket written
with red ink, which the honest coachman could not
read. He, however, put it into his sleeve^ and inquir
red of his employer where that same toll was which he
had not observed, and how it was that they did not
ask toll from him as he came through ? The gentle-
man replied, by informing George that there was no
road out of that domain, and that whoever entered it
must either remain in it, or return by the same path ;
BO they never asked any toll till the person's return,
when they were at times highly capricious ; but that
the ticket he had given him i^ould answer his turn.
And he then asked George if he did not perceive a
gate, with a number of men in black standing about it.

<< Oho I Is yon the spot ?" says Greorge ; << then, I
assure your honour, yon is no toll-gate, but a private
entrance into a great man's mansion; for do not I
know two or three of the persons yonder to be gentle-
men of the law, whom I have driven often and often ?
and as good fellows ihey are, too, as any I know — men
who never let themselves run short of change I Good
day.r^Twelve o'clock to-morrow ?"

<< Yes, twelve o'clock noon, precisely;" and with

GEORGE DOBSON's EXPEDITION TO HELL. 137

thaty George 8 anployer yanished in the gloom, and
left him to wind his way out of that dreaiy labyrinth
the hest way he could. He found it no easy matter,
for his lamps were not lighted, and he could not see
an fdl before him— te could not even peroeiTe his
horses' ears ; and what was worse, there was a mshing
sound, liJke that of a town on fire, all around him, that
stunned his senses, so that he could not tell whether
his horses were moving or standing stilL George was
in the greatest distress imaginable, and was glad whoi
he perceived the gate before him, with his two identi-
cal friends, men of the kw, still standing. George
drove bddly up, accosted them by their names, and
asked what they were doing there; they made him
no answer, but pointed to the gate and the keeper.
George was terrified to look at this latter personage^
who now came up and seized his horses by the reins,
refusing to let him pass. In order to introduce him-
sel^ in some degree, to this austere toll-man, Greorge
asked him, in a jocular manner, how he came to em-
ploy his two eminait friends as assistant gate-keepers?

^ Because they are among the last comers,'' replied
the ruffito, churiishly. << You will be an assistant here,
to*inorrow."

«The devil I will, sir?"

^ Yes, the devil you will, sir."

<< 111 be d— d if I do then— that I wilL"

138 THE shepherd's calendar.

"Yes, you 11 be d — d if you do— that you will."

" Let my horses go in the meantime, then, sir, that
I may proceed on my journey."

« Nay."

" Nay ? — Dare yon say nay to me, sir ? My name
is George Dobson, of the Pleasance, Edinburgh, coach-
driver, and coach- proprietor too; and no man shall say
nosy to me, as long as I can pay my way. I have his
Majesty's license, and I'll go and come as I choose —
and that I will. Let go my horses there, and tell me
what is your demand."

" Well, then, I'll let your horses go," said the keep-
er ; ." but I'll keep yourself for a pledge." And with
that he let go the horses, and seized honest George by
the throat, who struggled in yain to disengage himself,
and swore, and threatened, according to his own con-
fession, most bloodily. His horses flew off like the
wind, so swift, that the coach seemed flying in the air,
and scarcely bounding on the earth once in a quarter of
a mile. George was in furious wrath, for he saw that
his grand coach and harness woidd all be broken to
pieces, and his gallant pair of horses maimed or de-
stroyed ; and how was his family's bread now to be
won I — He struggled, threatened, and prayed in vain ;
— 4he intolerable toll-man was deaf to all remon-
strances. He once more appealed to his two genteel
acquaintances of the law, reminding them how he had

GEORG8 DOBSON's EXPEDITION TO HELL. 139

of late driTen them to Roelin on a Sunday, along with
two ladies, who, he supposed, were their sisters, from
their familiarity, when not another coachman in totm
would engage with them. But the gentlemen, very un-
generously, only shook their heads, and pointed to the
gate. . Greorge's circumstances now hecame desperate^
and again he asked the hideous toll-man what right he
had to detain him, and what were his charges.

" What right have I to detain you, sir, say you ?
Who are you that make such a demand here ? Do yon
know where you are, sir?"

<< No, faith, I do not," returned Greorge ; <* I wish I
did.. But I shall know, and make you repent your m^
solcaice too. My name, I told you, is George Dohson,
licensed coach-hirer in Pleasance, Edinburgh ; and to
get full redress of you for this unlawful interruption, I
only desire to know where I am."

<^ Then, sir, if it can give you so much satisfaction
to know where you are," said the keeper, with a malici-
ous grin, << you shall know, and you may take instru-
ments by the hands of your two friends there, institu-
ting a 1^1 prosecution. Your redress, you may be as-
sured, will be most ample, when I inform you that you
are in Hell I and out at this gate you pass no more.'*

This was rather a damper to George, and he begaif
to perceive that nothing woidd be gained in such a place
bjrthe strong hand^ so he addressed, the inexorable toll-

140 THE shepherd's CALENDAR.

man, whom he now dreaded more than ever, in the fol-
lowing terms : " But I must go home at all events, you
know, sir, to unyoke my two horses, and put them up,
and to inform Chirsty Halliday, my wife, of my en-
gagement. And, bless me I I never recollected till this
moment, that I am engaged to he back here to-morrow
at twelve o'clock, and see, here is a free ticket for my
passage this way."

The keeper took the ticket with one hand, but still
held George with the other. << Oho I were you in with

our honourable friend, Mr R of L ^y ?" said he.

^ He has been on our books for a long while ; — how-
ever, this will do, only you must put your name to it
likewise ; and the engagement is this — You, by this in-
strument, engage your soul, that you will return here
by to-morrow at noon."

" Catch me there, billy I" says Greorge. " Til en-
gage no such thing, depend on it ; — that I will not."

*^ Then remain where you are," said the keeper,
^^ for there is no other alternative. We like best for
people to come here in their own way, — ^in the way of
their business ;" and with that he flung George back-
ward, heels-over-head down hill, and closed the gate.

George, finding all remonstrance vain, and being de-
sirous once more to see the open day, and breathe the
firesh air, and likewise to see Chirsty Halliday, his wife,
and set his house and stable in some order, came up

GEORGE DOBSON'8 EXPEDITION TO HELL. 141

again, and in utter de^)eration, signed the bond, and
was suffered to depart. He then bounded away on the
track of his horses, with more than ordinary swiftness,
in hopes to OTertake them ; and always now and then
uttered a loud Wo I in hopes they might hear and obey,
though he coidd not come in sight of them. But
George's grief was but beginning ; for at a well-known
and dangerous spot, where there was a tan-yard on the
one hand, and a quarry on the other, he came to his
gallant steeds overturned, the coach smashed to pieces,
Dawtie with two of her legs broken, and Duncan dead.
This was more than the worthy coachman could bear,
and many degrees worse than being in helL There, his
pride and manly spirit bore him up against the worst of
treatment ; but here, his heart entirely failed him, and
he laid himself down, with his face on his two handsy
and wept bitterly, bewailing, in the most deplorable
terms, his two gallant horses, Dawtie and Dimcan.

While Jying in this inconsolable state, some one
took hold of his shoidder, and shook it ; and a well*
known Yoice said to him, << Geordie ! what is the mat-
ter wi' ye, Geordie ?'' George was provoked beyond
measure at the insolence of the question, for he knew
the voice to be that of Chirsty Halliday, his wife. ** I
think you needna ask that, seeing what you see," said
George. " O, my poor Dawtie, where are a' your jink-
ings and prancings now, your moopings and your win-

142 THE shepherd's calendar.

cings ? ril ne'er be a proud man {^ain — ^bereaved o*
my bonny pair !"

" Get up, George ; get up, and bestir yourself," said
Ghirsty Halliday, his wife. ** You are wanted direct-
ly, to bring in the Lord President to the Parliament
House. It is a great storm, and he must be there by
nine o'clock. — Get up— rouse yourself, and make ready
«— his servant is waiting for you."

" Woman, you are demented I" cried George.
<* How can I go and bring in the Lord President, when
my coach is broken in pieces, my poor Dawtie lying
with twa of her legs broken, and Duncan dead ? And,
moreover, I have a previous engagement, for I am
obliged to be in hell before twelve o'clock."

Ghirsty Halliday now laughed outright, and con-
tinued long in a fit of laughter; but George never
moved his head from the pillow, but lay and groaned, —
for, in fact, he was all this while lying snug in his bed ;
while the tempest without was roaring with great vio-
lence, and which circumstance may perhaps accoimt
for the rushing and deafening sound which astounded
him so much in hell. But so deeply was he impress-
ed with the idea of the reality of his dream, that he
woidd do nothing but lie and moan, persisting and be-
lieving in the truth of all he had seen. His wife now
went and informed her neighbours of her husband's
plight, and of his singular engagement with Mr R .

GEORGE DOBSON*S EXPEDITION TO HELL. 143

of L ^y at twelve o'clock. She persuaded one friend

to harness the horses, and go for the Lord President;
but all the rest laughed immoderately at poor coachy's
predicament. It was, however, no laughing to him ;
he never raised his head, and his wife becoming at
last uneasy about the frenzied state of his mind, made
him repeat every circxmistance of his adventure to her,
(for he would never believe or admit that it was a
dream,) which he did in the terms above narrated;
and she perceived, or dreaded, that he was becoming
somewhat feverish. She went out, and told Dr Wood
of her husband's malady, and of his solenm engage-
ment to be in hell at twelve o'clock.

<< He maunna keep it, dearie. He mamma keep
that engagement at no rate," said Dr Wood. " Set
back the clock an hour or twa, to drive him past the
time, and I'll ca' in the course of my rounds. Are ye
sure he hasna been drinking hard ?" — She assured him
he had not — " Weel, weel, ye maun tell him that he
maunna keep that engagement at no rate. Set back
the clock, and I'll come and see him. It is a frenzy
that maunna be trifled with. Ye maunna laugh at it,
dearie, — maimna laugh at it. Maybe a nervish fev^r,
wha kens."

The Doctor and Chirsty left the house together,
and as their road lay the same way for a space, she
fell a-telling him of the two young lawyers whom

144 THE shepherd's calendar.

George saw standing at the gate of hell, and whom the
porter had descrihed as two of the last comers. When
the Doctor heard this, he stayed his hurried, stooping
pace in one moment, turned full romid on the woman,
and fixing his eyes on her, that gleamed with a deep,
tmstahle lustre, he said, " What*s that ye were saying,
dearie? What's that ye were saying? Repeat it
again to me, every word." She did so. On which the
Doctor held up his hands, as if palsied with astonish-
ment, and uttered some fervent ejaculations. << I'll
go with you straight," said he, << hefore I visit another
patient. This is wonderfu' ! it is terrible ! The young
gentlemen are both at rest — ^both lying corpses at this
lime I Fine young men — I attended them both — died
of the same exterminating disease — Oh, this is wonder-
ful ; this is wonderful I"

The Doctor kept Chirsty half running all the way
down the High Street and St Mary's Wynd, at such
a pace did he walk, never lifting his eyes from the
pavement, but always exclaiming now and then, << It
is wonderfu' I most wonderfu' I" At length, prompt-
ed by woman's natm^ curiosity, Chirsty inquired at
the Doctor if he knew any thing of their friend Mr
R of L— y. But he shook his head, and re-
plied, " Na, na, dearie, — ^ken naething about him. He
and his son are baith in London, — ^ken naething about
him ; but the tither is awfu' — ^it is perfectly awfu' !"

5

OEOROJtf DOBSOK'S EXPEDITION TO HELL. 145

When Dr Wood reached his patient, he found him
veiy low, but only a little feverish ; so he made all
haste to wash his head with vinegar and cold water,
and then he covered the crown with a treacle plaster,
and made the same application to the soles of his feet,
awaiting the issue. Greorge revived a little, when the
Doctor tried to cheer him up by joking him about his
dream ; but on mention of that he groaned, and shook
his head. '< So you are convinced, dearie, that it is
iiae dream ?" said the Doctor.

^ Dear sir, how could it be a dream?" said the

patient. <^ I was there in person, with Mr R and his

soif ; and see, here are the marks of the porter s fingers
on my throat." — Dr Wood looked, and distinctly saw
two or three red spots on one side of his throat, which
confounded him not a little. — " I assure you^ sir,'" con-
tinued George, " it was no dream, which I know to
my sad experience. I have lost my coach and horses,
— and what more have I ? — signed the bond with my
own hand, and in person entered into the most solemn
Imd terrible engagement."

" But ye re no to keep it, I tell ye," said Dr Wood ;
*^ ye're no to keep it at no rate. It is a sin to enter
into a compact wi' the deil, but it is a far greater ane

to keep it. Sae let Mr R and his son bide where

f hey are yonder, for ye sanna stir a foot to bring them
out the day."

VOL. I. G

146 THE shepherd's calendar.

<^ Oh, ohy Doctor I'' groaned the poor fellow, << this
» not a thing to be made a jest o' I I feel that it is an
engagement that I camiot break. Go I must, and that
yery shortly. Yes, yes, go I must, and go I will,
although I should borrow David Barclay's pair." With
that he turned his face towards the wall, groaned deep-
ly, and fell into a lethargy, while Dr Wood caused
them to let him alone, thinking if he would sleep out
the ^pointed time, which was at hand, he would be
safe ; but all the time he kept feeling his pulse, and by
d^ees showed symptoms of uneasiness. His wife
ran for a clergyman of famed abilities, to pray and
converse with her husband, in hopes by that means to
bring him to his senses ; but after his arrival, George
never spoke more> save calling to his horses, as if en*
couraging them to run with great -speed ; and thus in
imagination driving at full career to keep his appoint-
ment, he went off in a paroxysm, after a terrible strug-
gle, precisely within a few minutes of twelve o'clock.

A circumstance not known at the time of George's •
death made this singular professional dream the more
remarkable and imique in all its parts. It was a terri-
ble storm on the night of the dream, as has been al-
ready mentioned, and dvuring the time of the hurricanie,

London smack went doiyn off Wearmouth about
tkree in the mornings A^jxktmg the sufferers w^e the
Hon. Mr R of L y, and his son I Geonge oould

GBOBOS DOB80N*8 SXPSDITION TO HELL. 147

not know ang^t of this at break of day, few it was not
known in Scotland till the day of*kia iaterment ; and
as little knew he of the deaths of the two young. law-
yers, who both died of the small-pox the evening be-
foie.

148 THE shepherd's causndar.

CHAPTER VI.

THE SOUTERS OF SELKIRK.

I HAVE heard an amusiDg story of a young man
whose name happened to he the same as that of the
hero of the preceding chapter — George Dohson. He
was a shoemaker, a very honest man, who lived at the
foot of an old street, called the Back Row, in the town
of Selkirk. He was upwards of thirty, unmarried, had
an industrious old stepmother, who kept house for
him, and of course George was what is called " a hein
bachelor," or " a chap that was gayan weel to leeve."
He was a. cheerful happy fellow, and quite sober, ex-
cept when on the town-council, when he sometimes
took a glass with the magistrates of his native old bo-
rough, of whose loyalty, valour, and antiquity, there
was no man more proud.

Well, one day, as George was sitting in his s/t^ &s
he called it, (though no man now-a-days would call
that a shop in which there was nothing to sell,) sewing
away at boots and shoes for his customers, ,wbom he

THE 80UTER8 OF SELKIRK. 149

could not half hold in whole leather, so great was the
demand oyer all the country for Greorge Dohson s hooti
and shoes— he was sitting, I say, plying away, and
smging with great glee,—

•* Up wi' the Soutara o* Sdkirk,

And down wi' the Earl o* Hume^
And up wi* a* the brave billies

That 8ew the single-soled shoon !
And up wi* the yellow, the yellow ;

The ydlow and green hae doon wed ;
Then up wi* the lads of the Forest,*

But down wi* the Merse to the deil !**

The last words were hardly out of George's mouth,

when he heard a great noise enter the Back Row, and

among the voices one making loud proclamation, as

follows :—

" Ho yes !— Ho yes ! '
Sottters ane, Souters a*, '
Souters o* the Back Raw,
There's a gentleman a*4X>ming
Wha will ca' ye Souters a*. "

^ I wish he durst,'' said Greorge. '< That will he-
the Earl o' Hume wha's coming. He has had us at
ill-will for several generations. Bring my aik staff in-
to the shop, eallant, and set it down heside me here —
and ye may bring ane to yoursell too. — ^I say, eallant,
stop. Bring my grandfather's aul^ sword wi' ye. I
wad like to see the Earl o' Hume, or ony o' his cro-
nies, come and cast up our honest calling and occupa*
tiontiUusP

%

150 TIIJS SUfiPHEODS CAX^NDAR.

Gfiocge kid his oak otaff on the eattisig'board he*
foie him,^yid leaned the old two<«dged sword against the
wail, at his right hand. The noise of the pcodamation
went out at the head of the Back Row, and died in the
distance ; acnd thep. George hjegan again, and sung the
Sonters of Selkirk with more obstreperous glee than
ever. — The last words were not ontof his mouth, when
a grand gentleman stepped into the shop, clothed in
light armour, with a sword by his side and pistols in
his breast. He had a livery-man b^iind him, and both
the master and man were all shining in gold.Fi-<-Thi8 is
the Earl o' Hnme in good^eaxnest, thought George to
himself; but, nevertheless, he shall not dantiMH me*

*^ Good morrow to you, Souter Dobson," said the
gentleman. *< What song is that yon were singing ?"
George would have resented the first address with a
vengeance, but the latter question to<^ him off it un-
awares, and he only answered, << It is a very good sang,
siTf ^d ane of the auldest — ^What objections have you
to it?"

'^ Nay, but what is it about ?" retmned Hoe stranger ;
5< I want to hear what you say it is about."

^ 111 sing you it over again, sir," said George, « and
then you may judge for yoursell. Our sangs up hera*
awa dinna speak in riddles and parables ; i^ey'regayan
downright ;" and with that George gave it him o^ver
again full birr, keeping at the same time a; sharp look-

THE SOUTERS OF SELKIRK. 151

out on all hk guest's moremeiits ; for he had no doubt
now that h was to come to an engagement between
them, but he was determined not to yield an inch, for
the honour of old Selkirk.

When the song was done, however, the gentleman
commended it, saying, it was a spirited old thing, andf
withovt do«bt, rehited to some of the early Border
fends. ^ But how think you the Earl of Hume woilU
like to hear this ?*' added he. George, who had no
doubt all this while that the Earl of Hume was speak-
ing to him, said good-naturedly, << We dinna care
mudde, air, vfiiether the Earl o' Hume take the sang
ill or weet^ Tse warrant he has heard it mony a time
ere now, and, if he were here, he wad hear it every day
when the school looses, and Wattie Henderson wad
^ him it every ni^t."

<< Well, well, Souter Dobson, that is neither here nor
there. That is not what I called about. Let us to
business. You must make me a pair of boots in your
very best style," said the gentleman, standing up, and
stretching forth his leg to be measured.

<< in make you no boots, sir," said George, nettled at
\mog again called Souter. << J have as many regular
custooeia to supply as hold me busy from one year's
end to the other* I cannot make your boots — ^you
may get them made where you please." • - .» .

<< YoujAotf make them, Mr Dobson," said the stranger ;

] 52 THE shupherd's calendar.

'< I am determined to try a pair of boots of your ma^
king, cost what they wilL Make your own price, but let
me have the boots by all means ; and, moreover, I want
them before to-morrow morning."

This was so conciliatory and so friendly of the Earl,
that George, being a good-natured fellow, made no
farther objection, but took his measure, and promised
to have them ready. << I will pay them now,'' said the
gentleman, taking out a purse of gold ; but George re-
fused to accept of the price till the boots were pro-
duced. << Nay, but I will pay them now,** said th«
gentleman ; << for, in the first place, it will ensure me of
tlie boots, and, in the next place, I may probably leave
town to-night, and make my servant wait for them.
What is the cost ?"

<< If they are to be as good as I can make them, sir,
they will be twelve shillings."

" Twelve shillings, Mr Dobson I I paid thirty-six for
these I wear in London, and I expect yours will be a
great deal better. Here are two guineas, and be sura
to tnake them good."

" I cannot, for my life, make them worth the half of
that money," said George. " We have no materials
in Selkirk that will amount to one-third of it in value."
However, the gentleman flung down the gold, and went
away, singing the Souters of Selkirk.

« He is a most noble fellow that Earl of Hume,"

THE SOUTERS OF SELKIRK. 153

said Xxeorge to his i^prentice. *< I thought he and I
should have had a hattle, hut we have parted on the
hest possible terms."

" I wonder how you could hide to he SouUrd yon
gate r* said the boy.

■

George scratched his head with the awl, hit his lip,
and looked at his grandfather's sword. He had a great
desire to follow the insolent gentleman ; for he found
that he had inadvertently suffered a great insult with*

out resenting it.

<

After George had shaped the boots with the utmost
care> and of the best and finest Kendal leather, he went
up the Back Row to seek assistance, so that he might
have them ready at the stated time ; but never a stitch
of assistance could George obtain, for the gentleman
had trysted a pair of boots in every shop in the Row»
paid for them all, and called every one of the shoe-
makers Sputer twice over.

Never was there such a day in the Back Row of
Selkirk I What could it mean ? Had the gentleman
a whole regiment coming up, all of the same size, and
the same measure of leg ? Or was he not rather an
army agent, come to take specimens of the best work-
men in the country ? This last being the prevailing
belief, every Selkirk Souter threw off his coat, and fell
a^tashiDg and catting of Kendal leather ; and such a

g2

154 THE shepherd's calekdab.

foreMoon of cnttkig, and sewing, and puffing, and raaet-
iagf never was in Selkirk since the liattle of Floddoi-
field.

George s shop was the nethermost of the street, so
that the stranger gnests came all to him first ; so, scarce-
ly had he taken a hurried dinner, and hegon to sew
again, and, of course, to sing, when in came a fat gen-
tleman, exceedingly well monnted with sword and pis-
tols ; he had ftur curled hair, red cheeks that hung over
his stock, and a liveryman hehind him. *^ Merry he
your heart, Mr Dohson ! hut what a plague of a song
is that you are singing?^ said he. George looked very
suspicious-like at him, and thought to himself. Now I
could bet any man two gold guineas that this is the
I>uke of Northumberland, another enemy to our town ;
but 111 not be cowed by him neither, only I could have
wished I had been singing another song when his Grace
came into the shop. — These were the thoughts that ran
through Geoi^e's mind in a moment, and at length he
made answer*—" We reckon it a good sang, my lord,
and ane o' the auldest.*'

** Would it suit your convenience to sing that last
verse over again ?" scud the fat gentleman ; and at the
same time he laid hold of his gold-handled pistols.

*< O certainly, sir,'' said George ; " but at the same
time I must take a lesson in manners from my supe-
riors ;* and with that he seised his grandfather's cut-

TAB SOUTERS 0> tsKtJtnf^. - I55

and-dHTOBt eword, and cocking
sang out with fearless gl<

<'die Eni^ish are dolts, to a man, a
Fkt paddings to fry in'a pan, a pan—

Their Percya and Howards

We reckon but cowards-
Bat torn the Bine Bonnets wfaa can, wha can !*'

Ge<iffge now set his joints in such a manner, that the
naoment the Duke of Northnmherhind presented his
^^guAf he might be ready to cleaye him, or cut off his
ri|^t hand, with his grand&ther's cut-and-dunst sword;
bmt the_&t gentleman dm^t not Tentu« the issue — he
took his hand from his pistol, and laughed till his big
sides shook. ^' You are a great original, Dobson,'' said
he ; <* but you are neyertheless a braye fellow — a noble
fellow-— a Sonter among a thousand, and I am glad I
have met wilJi you in this mood too. WeU, then, left
us proceed to business. You must make me a pair of
boots in your Tery best style, George, and that without
any loss of time."

" O Lord, sir, I would do that with the greatest plea-
sure, but it is a thing entirely out of my power,** said
George, with a serious fiftce.

<< Pooh, pooh I I know the whole story,'' said the firt
gentleman. << You are all hoaxed and made fools of
this morning ; but the thing concerns me very much^
and ril giro you five guineas, IVfr Dobson, if you will

156 THfe shepherd's calendar.

make me a pair of good boots before to-morrow at this
time."

" I wad do it cheerfully for the fifth part o* the price,
my lord," said George ; " but it is needless to speak
about that, it being out o' my power. But what way
are we hoaxed ? I dinna account ony man made a fool
of wha has the cash in his pocket as weel as the goods
in his hand."

'< You are all made fools of together, and I am the

most made a fool of, of any," said the fat gentleman.

<< I betted a himdred guineas with a yoimg Scottish

nobleman last night, that he durst not go up the Back

, Row of Selkirk, calling all the way,

< Souters ane, Souters a*,
Souters o* the Back Raw ;'

and yet, to my astonishment, you have let him do so,
and insult you all with impunity ; and he has won."

" Confound the rascal I" exclaimed George. " If
we had but taken him up I But we took him for our
friend, come to warn us, and lay all in wait for the au-
dacious fellow who was to come up behind."
. " And a good amends you took of him when he
came I" said the fat gentleman. " Well, after I had
1»ken the above bet, up speaks another of our company,
and he says — ' Why make such account of a few poor
cobblers, or Souters, or how do you call them ? I'll
bet a hundred guineas, that TU %o up the Back Row

THE SOUTERS OP SELKIRK* 157

after that gentleman has set them all agog, and I'll call
every one of them SotUer twice to his face.' I took
the bet m a moment : ^ You dare not, for your blood,
sir,' says I. * Yon do not know the spirit and bravery
of the men of Selkiric. They will knock you down at
once, if not tear you to pieces.' But I trusted too
much to' your spirit, and have lost my two hundred
guineas, it would appear. Tell me, in truth, Mr Dob-
son, did you suffer him to call you Souter twice to
your face without resenting it ?"

C^eorge bit his lip, scratched his head with the awl,
and gave the lingles such a yerk, that he made than
both crack in two. << D — ^n it I we're a* afirontit ^le-
^ther I" said he, in a half whisper, while the apprentice*,
boy was like to burst with laughter at his master's mor-
tification.

" Well, I have lost my money," continued the gen-
tleman ; ^ but I assure you, George, the gentleman
wiants no boots. He has accomplished his purpose,
and has the money in his pocket ; but as it will avail,
me, I may not say how much, I entreat that you will
make me a pair. Here is the money, — here are five,
guineas, which I leave in pledge ; only let me have the .
boots. Or suppose you make these a little wider,
and transfer them to me ; that is very excellent leather,
and will do. exceedingly well ; I think I never saw
better ;'^ and he stood leaning over George, handling

158 THS shepherd's calendar.

tho leather. ^< Now, do you consent to let me have

' « I can never do that, my lord," says George, " ha-
ving the other gentleman's money in my pocket. If
yon should offer me ten guineas, it would be the same
tUng.

« Very well, I will find those who will," said he,
8Ad off he went, singing,

" Turn the Blue Bonnets wha can, wha can."

« This is the queerest day about Selkirk that I ever
saw," said George ; ^< but really this Duke of North-
wnberlaiid, to be the old hereditary enemy of our town,
is • real fine, frank fellow."

<< Ay, but he Souter^d ye, too," said the boy. ,

" It's a lee, ye little blackguard."

^ I heard him ca' you a Souter amang a thousand,
master ; and that taunt will be heard tell o' yet."

<< I fancy, callant, we maun let that flee stick to the
waV said George ; -and sewed away, and sewed away,
and got the boots finished next day at twelve o'clock.
Now, thought he to himself, I have thirty Bhillings by
this, bargain, and so TU treat our magistrates to a hear-
ty glass this afternoon ; I hae muckle need o' a slock-
ening, and the Selkiik bailies never fail a iriend. —
George put his hand into his pocket to clink his two
gold guineas ; but never a guinea was in George's pocket,

THE SOI7TBB8 OF SBLKnUC* 160

nor pladc either I His eomileaanoe diaaged, tad lett
80 miush, thst the apprentiee noticed it, and sniqiecled
the came ; hat George^vonkl coHfeas nothings ^hong^
in his own mind, he strongly suspected the Dnke of
Nofthnmbetland of die theft, alkuj the hi gentleuHBi
with the fair curled hair, and die red cheeks hanguig
oTer his stocjc

George went away np among his btetfaren of the
swl in the Bade Row, and called on them erery one ;
hot he soon perceiyed, from their Uank looks, and their
disincKnation to drink that ni^ that they wm all k
the same iRodicainent with himself. Thefiit gwllciii—
with the cnried hair had Tisited erery one of thsM, aad
got measure for a pair of ten-gninea hoots, hot had noi
paid any of them ; and, somehow or odier, ef«ry nana
bad lost the price of tiie boots which he had leeetyed hi
the morning. Whom to blame for this, nobody knew ;
for the whole day orer, and a good part of the mght,
from the time the prodaaation was made, the Back
Rowof Selkiikwaslikeacriedfiir; all die idle peo^
in the town and die oomitry about were diere, wonder*
ing af^ the man who had raised sadi a demand far
boots. After all, the Sonters of Selkirk were left net*
dier richer nor poorer than they were at the beginnin|^
but every one of them had been fonr times called a Som^
£0r to his face, — a title of great obloquy in that town,
although the one of all odiers diat the townsmen ought

]60 THE SHEPHERD*S CALENDAR.

to he proud of. And it is curious that they are proud
of it when used collectively ; hut apply it to any of
them as a term of reproach, and you had hetter call him
the worst name under heaven.

This was the truth of the story ; and the feat was
performed hy the late Duke of Queensherry, when Earl
of March, and two English nohlemen then on a tour
through this country. Every one of them gained his
hety through the simplicity of the honest Souters ; hut
certainly the last had a difficult part to play, having
staked two hundred guineas that he would take all the
money from the Souters that they had received from
the, gentleman in the morning, and call every one of
them Souter to his face. He got the price entire from
every one, save Thomas Inglis, who had drunk the
half of his hefore he got to him ; hut this heing proved^
the English gentleman won.

George Dohson took the thing most amiss. He
had heen the first taken in all along, and he thought a
good deal ahout it. He was, moreover, a very honest
maoy and in order to make up the hoots to the full
value of the money he had received, he had shod them
with silver, which took two Spanish dollars, and he had
likewise put four silver tassels to the tops, so that they
were splendid hoots, and likely to remain on his hand.
In short, though he did not care ahout the loss, he
took the hoax very sore to heart.

THE 80UTERS OF SELKIltK* 161

Shortly after this, he was sitting in his shop, work-
ing awayy and not singing a word, when in comes a fitt
geitleman, with fair curled hair, and red chedts, InU
they were noi hanging oyer his cravat ; and he si^
^^ Good morning, Dohson. You are very quiet and
contemplative this morning.**

*^ Ay, sir ; folk canna be aye alike merry."

<< Have you any stomach for taking measure of a
pair of hoots this morning ?"

^< Nah ! m take measure o' nae mae boots to stnn-
gers ; Fll stick by my auld customers.'* — He ia very Uka
my late customer, thought George, but his tongue b
not the same. If I thought it were he, I would nick
himi

** I hare heard the story of the boots, George,** said
the visitor, <' and, never heard a better one. I bat»
laughed very heartily at it ; and I called principally to
inform you, that if you will call at Widow "Wilson's,
in Hawick, you will get the price of your boots.**

" Thank you, sir,'* said George ; and the gentle*
man went away ; Dobson being now persuaded he waa
not the Duke of Northumberland, though astonishing-
ly like him. George bad not sewed a single yerking,
ere the gentleman came again into the shop, and said,
*< You had better measure me for these boots, Dobson.
I intend to be your customer in future.**

" Thank you, sir, but I would rather not, just now.*'

162 THB 8HEPHERD*8 CALENDAR.

<< Veiy well ; call then at Widow Wilson's, in Ha-
wick, and you shall get double payment for the hoots
ymi haTe made."— -George thanked him again, and
away he went ; but in a very short space he entered
the shop again, and again requested George to measure
him for a pair of boots. George became suspicious of
the gentleman, and rather uneasy, as he continued to
haunt him like a ghost ; and so, merely to be quit of
him, he took the measure of his leg and foot. << It is'
Tcry near the measure of these fine silyer-moimted ones,
m^* said Greorge ; ^^ you had better just take them."

« Well, so be it," said the stranger. " Call at Wi-
dow W&on's, in Hawidc, a^d you shall have i$ipk
payment for your boots. Good day."

^ O, tUs g^itleman is undoubtedly wr<»^ in his
mad," said George to himself. ^^ This beats aH the
cosUmiers I ever met with I Ha — ha — ^ha ! Come to
Widow Wilson's, and you shall have payment for your
bootsr-^ouble paym^it for your boots, — tr^h pay-
mesLt for your boots I Oh ! the man's as mad «s a March
hare ! He~4ie-— he — he !"

»

^ HUloa, George," cried a voice close at his ear,
<< what's the matter wi' ye ? Are ye gane daft ? Are
ye no gann to rise to your wark the day ?"

^ Aich I Gudeness guide us, mother, am I no up
yet ?" cried George, springing out of his bed ; for he
had been all the while in a sound sleeps and dreaming.

THBSODTEMOr

<' What gvt ^le let Me lie Me kag

** ShopT iwriMMad elw; <" I
thmgiit ye« YmA faHdafiidle i
goffinrmg' and laeghiag asl ?*

<<OI Iwas la^fU^ «i a £it
ment of a pair o' boots at Widow WiboB't, ia Ha-
wick.''

<< Widow Wiko^s, f HawickT
ther, iMildkg a^ bi
for a great leear, if I
frae die tae end •' tke

^ HoiitB> modier, bead
to heed yoor dreamy fm ye
about somebody.*

<" Aad vkatfor ao» kd? Hana am aald badyae
good a ri|^ to dreaai as a yoaig aae ? Mfs Wibaifa
a throvg^igaiDi i|yei

a-yeer by the Tannage. Fee wmimJ. ifcero eall
thing fbHowdurdraaaai; I^BttkeaHiita aiy
redd."

George was greatly tiddadwjtbbkitff—tliaflfca
fat gentUman and ^ bootty and so wefl eoBTiaeed a«i
he that thge wm woam eart of aif laia^ in it, list ha
readied to go to HawidE tbe next mafkei day, and <aD
on Mrs Wilson, and settle with her; aHiiOBgk it was
a week or two brfsw bis waal feeai of pay mi at, be

164 THE shepherd's calendar.

thoaght the money would scarcely come wrong. So
that day he plied and wrought as usual ; but instead of
his favourite ditties relating to the Forest, he chanted,
the whole day over, one as old as any of them ; but I
am Sony I recollect only the chorus and a few odd
stanzas of it.

ROUND ABOUT HAWICK.

We'll round about Hawick, Hawick,
Round about Hawick thegither ;

We*U round about Hawick, Hawick,
And in by the bride's gudemither.
Sing, Round about Hawick, &c

And as we gang by we will rap,
And drink to the luck o* the bigging ;

For the bride has her tap in her lap.
And the bridegroom his tail in his rigging.
Sing, Round about Hawick, Stc

There's been little luck i* the deed ;

We're a* in the dumps thither ;
Let's gie the bridegroom a sheep's head.

But gie the bride brose and butter.
Sing, Round about Hawick, &c

Then a* the gudewiyes i' the land
Came flocking in droves thegither,

A* bringing their bountith in hand.
To please the young bride's gudemither.
Sing, Round about Hawick, &c.

The black gudewife o' the Braes
Gm baby-douts no worth a button ;

THE SOCTEBS OT "**^—^ h§m

But tke mU gmiKwi£t •' B

•«

m wi > mtmMrr •

Wee Jem o* the C«Bte cv a

But the wife at the hmi •* the fti>v»
Gae nought hat a bne pm-t«Ce.*

TT>e misU'tJi o* B«rtQeh
Aye hlhiking wm

But aoBke Mftd dbe hai
A kipple o* bottles o

And

And
Andkebbucfca

Bat Jenny Mulrheid
Sing, Rood

Then up cam the wife » the M^

Wr the cng^ aad the
ForahelikitthejeiDefl

To gie the bride bruie uvi imus'.
Sing, R4Nnid ahavt Hawick, fc

And fint flhe pat in a bit liwad.

And then dhe pat in a bit
And then she paC in a dheep'i
Horns and a' the^ither '.
Sing, lUimd ^ovt Hawfcfc. Tlxwkfc,

Rond aho«t Uawkk tfe^ithcr;
Round abovt Ilawkk, IlawVh,
Reondaboat Hawieh Cir

• A

166 THS SHEPHEBD 8 CALENDAR.

On the TlmrBday following, George, instead of go-
ing to the shopf dressed himself in his best Sunday
4:lodie8, and, with rather a curions face, went ben to
Ilia stepmother, and inquired <' what feck o* siller she
had about her ?"

^ Siller 1 Gudeness forgie you, Ge<N'die9 for an even-
down waster and a profligate I What are ye gaun to do
wi'siUertheday?"

<^ I have something ado ower at Hawick, and I was
thmlfing it wad be as weel to pay her account when I
was there."

^ Oho, lad I are ye there wi* your dreams and your
visions o* the night, Geordie ? Ye're aye keen o' sangs,
man ; I can pit a vera gude ane i* your head. There's
an unco gude auld thing they ca', Wap at the widow,
my laddie. D'ye ken it, Geordie ? Siller I quo he I
Hae ye ony feck o' siller, mother I Whew I I hae as
muckle as will pay the widow's account sax times
ower I Ye may tell her that frae me. Siller I lack-a-
day !— But, Geordie, my man — ^Auld wives* dreams
are no to be regardit, ye ken. £h ?"

After putting half a dozen pairs of trysted shoes,
and the identical silver-mounted boots, into the cad-
ger's creels — ^then the only regular carriers — off set
George Dobson to Hawick market, a distance of near-
ly eleven new-fashioned miles, but then accoimted only
eight and three quarters ; and after parading the Sand-

bed, Slitterkk Bridge, aMi die X
a|Moe of Ml hour, and ■Iwlring
or fifc acqwiiiitanfWy he
Mn Wikamt her mxammL He
ae every good and ragvkr
aeo. They aettled aBucaUr,
huBBieaa Geaige tetflued aevcrai aiTy
see how they woold be laken, Tcxed
Miigolar dieaaa ahoaki go far
wooid paaa there bm atfrl'ig i
was deaf and blind to every cfioat mi
her own abihtiea too highly ever toa
time at the head of her iovaihing
thelessy she could noi be hfind to
tions — he knewdiat wm
place he waa a goodly penoBy with
broad aqnare ahoohkn; of a very dvk
trufit but with fiaoy afarewd, BMaly iestnrea ;
geaa and conndllar of thp toini of Stfthij
dqMiBdeat in cirenaartafft aa the waa»
Very well; Mn WHaon knew aD
George Dobacm acoordin^yy and woald mmt
Died him any of thoae good pmata meie than
Scott would to a hivonrite CheTiot tap^ in asy
whateyer ; but she had such a iharp^ eoU,
mamier, that Ge<»ge could diacovar no

where the price of the boots was to come from. Im

8

168 THE SHEPHERD S CALE3EDAK.

order to conciliate matters as far as coQT^uent, if not
eren to stretch a point, he gave her a farther order,
hvger than the one jo&t settled ; but all that he elicit-
ed was thanks far his cnstom, and one rery small ^ass
of brandy ; so he drank her health, and a good hus-
band to her. ^Irs Wilson only coortseyed, and thanked
him coldly, and away George set west-the-street, with
a quick and stately step, sa)'ing to himself that the ex-
pedition of the silver-moanted boots was all np.

As he was posting np the street, an acquaintance of
his, a flesher, likewise of the name of Wilson, eyed
him, and called him aside. <' Hey, Geoi^e, come this
way a bit. How are ye ? How d*ye do, sir ? WTiat
news about Selkirk ? Grand demand for boots there
just now, I hear — eh ? Needing any thing in my way
the day ? — Nae beef like that about your town. Come
away in, and taste the gudewife's bottle. I want to
hae a crack wi* ye, and get measure of a pair o' boots.
The grandest story yon, sir, I ^ver heard — eh ? — ^Need-
ing a leg o* beef? — Better? Never mind, come away

George was following Mr Wilson into the house,
having as yet scarcely got a word said, — and he liked
the man exceedingly, — when one pulled his coat, and a
pretty servant girl smirked in his face and said, " Mais-
ter Dabsen, thou maun cum awa yest-the-gate and

THE SOUTEBt OF iCUCnJC. i^

flpedk tin MkMM ^

stipeen ye. TIkni wtmrn caai dtntAr,

^ Haste ye, fae snT. lia T sp
faun out at tlie door, ^ tkai's a Wtter

yonder. A bies birth tmd a tlnlcT
gap to, lad ! Fee take ker at a kuBdo'
ter. Let as aee jmn a» ye c«bk back

Geor]gewent
ingin tlie door to lecem

<< I quite focjgiat,
I hope, aa
to-day?"

^ Indeed, Mra WUmb, I
sdl that yoa were fev, aad tikat wr* nro
bargain agatn, for I aeiet paid ymi
that I did not get the ofisr of aiy dtaaerr

"< A Tcry sta|Md neglect ! B«L iadwd. I ha«e a»
many things to mind, and to bard 441 with the mrid^
MrDobaon; yon cannot eaneme, when these* oftfy a
woman at the head of afcirs

** Ay, bnt sic a woBBan," said Georva, and «haah his
head.

^ Wen, well, come at two. I dine early. No cete.
mony, yon know. Jnst a homely dinner, aad no drink-
ing." So saying, she tnmed and sailed into the honse
Teiy gracefnUy ; and then tnning ande» dm looked onl

VOL. I. a

170

-*- At. ▼« msv xrac awsr Trmr thr imrft, •» if I
hiifclBi. afeer tirl, Sliane &* the Mvfier-like five o'

ve; I wsk¥«« bad been titer mil»«ff die dsr! If

* ■ • •

ywB yuHidu Ive been beie. For there's my trothcf
CMUDc to diaaeiT lad awrbe sone o* his craoieB ; and
IttH beiiK ta'cB wT thi§ ■cnr sovter chieM, that I ken
w«el theyH dnnk nair dian twice tltt profits o' this bit
order. Mjr brother maam bae a* bis ain wiU too!
Folk mann aye bow to the bosh they get bield frae,
dse I ahoidd take a stanp out o* their panch cogs the
iii^bt**'

George attended at ten minutes past two, to be as
tehionable as the risk of losing his kale would permit
--^re a sharp wooer-like rap at the door, and was
shown by the dimpling Border maid into The Room,
—^which, in those days, meant the only sitting apart-
ment of a house. Mrs Wilson being absent to super-
intend the preparations /or dinner, and no one to intro-
duce tlio parties to each other, think of George's utter
lunazement, when he saw the identical fat gentleman,
who came to him thrice in his dream, and ordered him
to come to Widow Wilson's and get payment of his
boots I He was the very gentleman in every respect,
tDVory inch of him, and George could have known him
lunong a thousand. It was not the Didce of Northum-

THE SOCTERS OF SB14UAK. 171

berlandy but he that was so very like hiaa, with hk
curled hair, and red cheeks, which did not hang ovicr
his crayat. George felt as if he had been dropped inio
another state of extBtence, and hardly knew what to
think or say. He had at first very nigh ran «p
taken the gentleman's hand, and addressed )am as
old acquaintance, but Inddly he recollected the
vocal circumstances in which they met, which was mm
actually in tie shop^ but in George's littie bed-dosec m
the night, or eariy in the momiag;.

In short, the two sat awkward *««ij^ tall, at Jaai,
Mrs Wilson entered, in most brilliant attire, and naJly
a handsome fine woman ; and with her a coontry lady,
with something in her face extremely r'yyf Mia
Wilson immediately introduced the paru^ to eadb
other thus i~^^ Brother, this is Mr Dobson, boot and
shoemaker in Selkirk; — as honest a yomig man, and as
good a payer, as I know* — Mr Dobs<m, thin is Mr loni'
bull, my brother, the best friend I erer had; and this is
his daughter Margaret*"

The parties were acquainted in one minnte, £or Mr
Tombnll was a frank kind-hearted gentleman ; ay, they
were more than acquainted, for the rery second or
third look that (jeoige got of Margaret Tnnbtili, he
loved her. And during the whole afternoon, every
word that she spoke, every smile that she nmi\f^, tad
every happy look that she tamed on another, added to

172 THE shepiierd'a calendah.

loft flame ; fo that long ere the son leaned Ins dbow oo
Skelflall Pen, he was deeper in lore than, perhapsy any
4Mher sonter in this worid erer was. It is needless to
describe Miss Tumboll ; die was jnst what a womaii
should be, and not exceeding twenty-five years of age.
What a mense Ae wonld be to the town of SeQdiky
and to a boot and shoemaker's parlour, as well as to
the top of the coundllofs' seat every Sunday !

When the dinner was over, the brandy bottle went
round, accompanied with the wee wee glass, in shape
of the burr of a Scots Thistle. When it came to Mr
Tumbull, he held it up between him and the light, —
** Keatie, whaten a ni£f-naff of a glass is this ? let us
see a feasible ane."

^< If it be over little, you can fill it the oftener,
brother. I think a big dram is so vulgar I"

<< That's no the thing, Keatie. The truth is, that
yeVe a perfect she Nabal, and ilka thing that takes the
Talue of a plack out o' your pocket, is vulgar, or im-
proper, or something that way. But I'll tell you,
' Keatie, my woman, what you shall do : Set down a
black bottle on this hand o* me, and twa clear anes on
this, and the cheeny bowl atween them, and I'll let you
see what I'll do. I ken o' nane within the ports o'
Hawick can a£ford a bowl better than you. Nane o'
your half bottles and quarter bottles at a time ; now
Keatie, ye ken, ye ha» a confoundit trick o' that ; but

I hae MMoe htftm
and by."

^ Dear brocker, Tm Mvr i^vm wn ■
your bottles bere ? Tliak v^at ikt
tf I were to keep caWb o

<" Do as I bid TM Boir, K
me^ — Ahf she is a iikcMd. Mr
need of m little schoo&ip

The materials were piudteA and Mr T
bad beoi predicted,
Wilsons joined them i
a shoemaker, and the other ow friend
a merrier afiemoon has scldoaa been la Hawick. Hr
Tamball was perfectly delickaed wi& Gcan
made liim sing " The Somen o* SeldriE,* -* T
Bine BonDets," and all his beat tUnca;
came to ^ Round abont Hawick," he
six times oyer, and was never weary of
and identifying ^ characters with thoae
Then the story of the boots was an inr i tianil 8de joka,
and the Ukeness between Mr Tnmboll and the Dake
of Northumberland an acceptable item. At length Mr
TunibnM got so elevated, that he said, ^ Ay, man ! and
they are shod wi' silver, and silver tasseb nnnid tfat
top ? I wad gie a bottle o' wine for a sight o' diem.**

^< It shall cost you nae mair,*' said Gewge, and in
three minutes he set diem on die table* Mr Tumbnll

174 rat, 24iJbJ*UJ£RD*6 CAUESD AWL

tne4 tliein ob, and walked tiBWig;li asd diroii^ the
room with them, fdngiiig—

They fitted eittcdy ; and before sittiiig down, he offined
Geoi^ge the onginal pnoe, and got thenu

It hecame late rather too soon fw our group, but the
yom^ lady grew impatient to get home, and Mr Tmii*
ball was obliged to {Kepare for going ; nothing, hew-
crer, wonld please him, save that George should go
with him all night ; and George beings long be£(»e this
time, OTer head and ears in lore, accepted of the invi-
lition, and the loan of the flesher s bay mare, and went
with them. Misa Margaret had soon, by some kind of
natm^al inspiration, discoyered our jovial Souter's par«
tiality for her ; and in order to open the way iar a ban«
ter, (the best mode of b^puuiing a conrtsbip)} she fell on
and rallied him most severely about the boots and the
Sauterin^ and particularly about letting himself bo
robbed of the two guineas. This gave George an op-
portunity of retaliating so happily, that he wondered
at himself, for he admowledged that he said things that
he never believed he could have had the face to say to
a lady before.

The year after that, the two were married in the
house of Mrs Wilson, and Mr Tumbull paid down a
hundred pounds to. George on the dity he brought her

THE SOUTEBS OF ^KIKTBg, 1*3

from that boose m bride. Nov. ^omAt G«arr«
himself, I bare been twice most EbenZy "paid 3ur
boots m that boose. My wife, perbapA. viZ fOBii
the tbkd paymenty which I hope wiC be :be Vac ȣ tHi
but I still think there is to be another ow
was not wrong, for afierthe deadi of he w^rkr
in-law, he foond himself entitled to ^ht tknrd mi
ygfhole effects ; the transfer of which, bm
bid marriage, was made orer to him in the
friend, Mrs Wi]s<m«

176 THE SHnPIIRIlD*S CALENDAR.

CHAPTER VIL

TIIK LAIRD OP CASSWAY.

There is an old story which I have often heard re-
lated, ahont a great Laird of Cassway, in an outer
comer of Dumfries-shire, of the name of Beattie, and
bis two sons. The incidents of the story are of a very
extraordinary nature. This Beattie had occasion to
be almost constantly in England, because, as my in-
formant said, he took a great hand in government af-
hiVSy from wliich I conclude that the tradition had its
rise about the time of the Civil Wars ; for about the
close of that time, the Scotts took the advantage of the
times to put the Beatties down, who, for some previ-
ous ages, had maintained the superiority of that dis-
trict.

Be that as it may, the Laird of Cassway's second
son, Francis, fell desperately in love with a remarkably
beautiful girl, the eldest daughter of Henry Scott of
Drumfielding, a gentleman, but still only a retainer,
and far beneath Beattie of Cassway, both in point of

TBB LAIMD Oif CJkSSfW^Y, 177

wesHh ind

returned firom the L nrreraiT^

a pale eomplexioB, and

Thomas, die ddeet

made, a peHect pictne of heaiik

a spoTtmiaii, a wwnor, s^d ]

would not aafier a fox to ^

ffetiid. He rode ^ Wrt hone, kc^

played the best iddk, rfaanud Ae

kin, and took the itoideiC dcmfhi of

any man between Eiick Boe and

ever he cast his eyes oa a pnttr zxL
or weqion-«3iair, the
as if tickled hj
Now, though
was cafled, had only spoke
life, at which time he
Ind the derfl tdke Urn if mr he 1
hss whole horn daya ; yd, fiv all
It oeidd not he said ^Bt dbe m
a maiden's heart nmrt he was hdm
Int^y away ; hot hen gate him the
other yoong man. She loved to toe Imty to hear *4
hmi,and to langh at him; and it wwevum liiifimd
by the domestics, that Tam Bcattie « the Cmmmtf*

178 THE 8HEPHtelU>*9 CAtXm»Mh.

name came oftener into her convocation than ther»
was any good reason for.

Such was the state of affairs when Francis came
home^ and fell desperately in love with Ellen Scott ;
and his father being in England, and he vnder no ve-»
straint, he went frequently to visit her. She rec^ved
him with a kindness and afiahility that pleased him to
the heart ; bnt he little wist that this was only a spon-*
taneous and natural glow of kindness towards him be^
cause of his connexions, and rather because he wais tfa^
Young Laird of Cassway*s only brother, than the poor
bvt accomplished Francis Beattie, the scholieur from Ox-
fordi

He was, howiever, so much delighted with her, that
he asked her father43 permission to pay his addresses
to her. Her father, who was a pnideht and sensible
■lan, answered him in this wise-r-<< That nothing would
give him greater delight th&n to see his beloved Ellen
joined with so accomplished and amiable a young gen?
tleman in the bonds of boly wedlock, provided his ^-»
ther s assent was previously obtained. But as he himr
self was suborcGmate to another house, not on th^ best
terms 'with the house of Cassway, he would not take
H on lum to sanction any such connexion without the
did Laird*s full consent. That, moreover, as he, Fran-
ciii Beattie, was just setting out in life, as a lawyer^
there was but too much iseason to doubt that a matri*.

TBK hAIKD OT CASSWAYi 179

ttDMual eimiiexi<m with Ellen at that time would be
fa^;Uy impradent ; therefore it was not to be thought
fqKlhec of tiU thft Old Laird waa consulted. In the
meantime} he should always be welcome to his honse^
aqd to hia.dangfa|er*s eonq^any, as he had the same de-
pendence on his hononr and integrity, as if he had beeil
a son of his own."

: The yovDg man thanked Urn a£kctionately> and
oonld.nol help acqniescing^m the trnth of his remaikiy
pi^omised not to mention matrimony fiuther, till he had
c6nsnlted lus fiather, and added— << Bnt indeed yon
mnst ezcose me^ if I avail myself of yonr pennission
to risit here ofken, as I am sensible that it will be im- .
possible for me to live for any space of time out of my
deac l^len's sighti" He was again assured of welcome^
and the twa parted mutually pleased*

,HeiU7< Scott of Drumfielding was a widower, with
BJK jdaoghters^ over whom presided Mrs thae-Jerdany
their maternal aunt, an old maid, with fashions and^
td^as eyen more antiquated than henelf. No sooner
had.the young wooer ti^en his leaye, than she bounced^
in^ the. room, the only sitting apartment in the house,
and i^d, in a Ipnd important whisper^ ^ WhaVs that'
yonng swankey of a lawyer wanting, that he's aye
hankering sae muckle about our town ? Fll tell yon
what} brother Harrys it strikes me that he wants to
make a wheelvmght Oo your daughter NelL Now, fptfi

190

3fr Rmos Baaaks ihe
Heaoam of tbe whole amniryV

ri tdl >fM wkat, fafvtker iiHr7y---iipi« I were »

Uy, Ivvdtttlwrlwatykir^a kykNvd. Wktt
faetoannlttn a W7 ipOTM widb ? Tkewindo'
hb kMg% fci—olh ' iMiiii tp adl thi far gwid a
gimqMBgflL Heck mt I ^nuf ^mid thef be wlha wad
livf it; and tiiey wiia tnm to oaoEy^ peafie Ibrfbeir
liviBf wiH Hve kirt cranly. Take aa aadd fael^ ad»
Tice gin ye wad praipetv dse yell be wise akian the
Imndi Om aae nair to 4a widi h]ii^--.NeU's liread
f or his hettefii ; tcU IdiD tiai» (h) by my €eity> gn I
meal wt'hiai £m» to 6ne, /^// toU hm.''

^ It w<obldlie«i£ieiidttyaiiiie to keep %iigfat a ae-
caai ^«ai yoi^ aieiter, eoiMMariag the iiitovest y^a have
takenln aiy fiaafly, i jftioae givoi him my lymsaat to
yiatt my tdaagfater, iiaii«t lhe«ame time have reMrict*
ed him ieom meittioiiiiig matsimoiiy until he faave^m*^
rahedUtofnAer."

<< Andwhatiadievisftiagtogangforythen? Away
vri' him I Our Nell's lood for hpb bettere^ WhatiRrad

N

tar to ^ Lady^

mel rn kw Ae ^nuls of

ry*« a oiiijpit — ; he

byW

NiMeNdl

wad kiUiab tbe beat loid o' the

oome

are a' wise

o' ioTie vewa, and adbs o'

andkliiML«w

tlieir famgs m dear ce they

182 THS BHKnUUU>*S CAMJBSDAfL

im a lew dayBy Hemy ^ DnwiMdtny wm eallei
imt to sttead InsCliief on 0<MBeeipedilioQ; onwbidk
lir» J«ney not cariay to trwBl bar mMMgo to aiy other
penon, went orer to Caasway, and kvited t^e Yooog
Laird to DnunfieldiBg to see her niece, qntee conm*
oed that her channa and endowmoits wdiU4 1^ ^a^se
CBBkre the elder hrodier aa they had done the^yonnger.
Tam Beatde was delighted at finding aoch a good haeH
friend as Mrs Jane, for he had not failed t/^ ohBer?ey
lor a twdremonth back, that Ellen Scott waa yery
iMtty, and, either tfaroo^ chance or designi he asked
Mrs Jane if the yoni^ lady was privy to thia invitA^

: ** She privy to it T exclaimed Mrs Jane^ ^ihaking
her apron. <^ iSi, weel I wat, no I She wadsoon hae:
flown in my Am^ wf her gihery and her jaakay^-liad
I tanld her my errand ; but the gowk kens what the
titdkig wants, although it is not aye crying, G^ive^ ^rive^
like the horse loch-leech.''

^ Does die horse^leedi leally cry that, Mrs Jane ?
I shdnld think, fSram a view of its months that it could
ateeely cry any thbg,^ said Tom.

<^ Are ye sie a reprobate aa to deny tlie words o'lhe
Scripture, sir? Hedi, wae's me 1 ^diat some folk hae
to answer fort We're a' wise ahint the hand* Bnt
hark ye,— come ye ower in time, else I am feared she.
may be settled for ever out o' your reach. Now, I

THE LAUD OP CAMKWAY^ Ifif

taamYMe to iiaaBk mm lim^fvrlhKwm

yon tWB made for ane amdier. Let Be take m lMk#'

yon fiiJM) tap to tae O yes-*aMMle for

CMne oirer ni liney bcfwt hOtj Hmwj

agiabi; and let yovr nst be m tineavi kasi, die n

yeyoathebackefAedoortokeqw— Wadfumfcatiir
die exdaimed to henel^ mm talnay her Iwe
ay tliat the liene lech-leeA cm «|Mric !
Tbe Yov^ Lakd « tiw BM fiv BM r

Tbemae Beattie WW me to Ui
hevrnfffmeAf and ]fo Jaae liaii%
in style, he was perfectly thai and with her
ly it cannot be denied that QlcB WW as aradi d^ght*
ed with hini. She ww jmmig, gay, aad frafieaanc^
and galea neier qie*t a aote jeyow lad happy aihr*
noon, or knew before wdiai it ww to be ia a
that deUg^ed her ao nrach. While they aai
ging^ and apparently better satiaied with the caai
each odier than ww lik^y to he re^wded wid
&rence by any other indiridnal aepiriag to iht
of the yoong lady, the door ww opened, aad then
tered no odber than Fiands Beatde I WheaEDea
her denrted knrer appear thn saddcaly, she Uaehed
deeply, and her glee ww damped in a momeaL 8he
looked rather like a condenmed criminal, or at least m
gmhycrcatare, than what the really was, nbcingorcr

IM THE 8UEraKRI>*S CAI^EVDAR.

Mad die dovd of ^uStt had nerer cast ks Bhft-^

Ritli iored bcr aboTe aH tilings on earA or in hea-
rtm, and dw noneiit he saw her ao much abashed at
Winf aaipriwd in the company of his hrodier, his spirit
was ■wrrgd to jealonsy — ^to maddmng and nncontrdi-
ahle jeakmsy. His ears mg, his hair stood on end,
and die rantovr of his hue became Vke a bent bow.
He walked up to his brodier wilii his hand on his hilt,
sad, in a alale of exrimsent whidi rendered his words
imriiiirlirti , addnKsed him thns, whfle Ins teeth fr&nnd
tagMher like a lioree-nttle :

* P^y, sir, may I ask yon of yonr intcntioniB, and of
whaft yon are seeing here?*

^ I know not, Frank, what right yon hare to ask any
andi <(nestions ; bnt yon w91 allow that f hare it nght
to ask at 3fim what jioff are seeking here at preseirt^ see-
ing ybn come so ^ery mopportnnely?**

** Sir,* said F^rancis, whose passion conld stay no
fittlher parley, * •dare yon pnt it to the issue of the
swofd dus moment ?**

'^ CiMne now, detf Fhmcis, do not act the fool and
die madman bodi at a dme. Rather than bring such
a Aspnte to die issne of die sword between two bro-
dien who never had a qnairel in their Kres,! propose
that we bring it to a much more temperate and deci-
Mve issue here where we stand, by giving the maiden

ted to

mol liu— lU'iMi wwj

fiore hf

tydovntrnt tm

eye to eiliier oi
BdouB thttt she might to
Fraads.

M £11^ I need mot tdl

M«Ma

dbe

dHtllofeja^'

186

TH£ SH£PU£RD S CALENDAR.

Thomas, in a light and careless manner, as if certain that
his appeal would he successful ; << nor need I attempt
to tell how dearly and how long I will love you, for in
faith I cannot Will you make the discovery for your-
self hy decidmg in my favour ?*'
' Ellen looked up. There was a smile on her lovely
face; an arch, mischievous, and happy smile, hut it
turned not on Thomas. Her face turned to the con-
trary side, hut yet the heam of that smile fell not cm
Francis, who stood in a state of as tenihie suspense he-
itween hope and fear, as a Roman Catholic sinner at
the gate of heaven, who has implored of St Peter to
open t^e gute, imd »wiut9 ^ finid imsweri T^e die .of
his fate was soon cast, for Ellen, looking one way, yet
moving another, straightway threw herself into Thomas
^Seattle's arms, exclaiming, << Ah, Tom I I fear I am
doing that which I shall rue, hut I must trust to your
-generosity; for, had as you are, I like you the best!"
Thomas took her in his arms, and kissed her ; but
before he could say a word in return, the despair and
-age of his brother, breaking forth over every barrier of
peason^ intenvpted him. << This is the trick of .a
4B6ward, to screen himself from the chastisement he de-
«Brves. But you escape me not thus I Follow me if
you dare I" , And as he said .this, Francis rushed from
the house, shaking his naked sword at his brother. .
£llen^embled.witIi.8gitAtipii at the young man's

THE LAIRD OF CASSWAY. 187

rage ; and while Thomas still continaed to assure her
of his unalterable affectioD, Mrs Jane Jerdaa entered,
pladdng her apron so as to make it twang Uke a bow-
string.

. << What's a' this. Squire Tummas ? Are we to be
babbled out o' house and hadding by this raptorous*
yom^ lawyer o' yours ? By the soub o' the Jerdans,
m Idsk up sic a stoure about his lugs as shall blind the
juridical een o' him I It's qoeeir that men should study
the law only to learn to break it. Sure am I, nae gen-
tleman, that hasna been bred a lawyer, wad come into
a neighbour's house bullyragging that gate wi' sword
toL hand| malice prepense in his eye, and tenom on hii
tongue. Just as a lassie hadna her ain freedom o'
choice, because a fool has been pleased to uk her I
Haud the grip you hae, Niece Nell ; ye hae made 9^
wise choice for aince. Tam's the man for my money !
Polk are a' wise ahint the hand, but real wisdom Ilea
in taking time by the forelock. But, Squire Tarn, the
tUng that I want to ken is thi»*-Are you going to put
tsf wi' a' that bullying and threatening, or do ya
propose to chastise the fool according to his folly ?"
> ^hk truth, Mrs Jane, I am very sorry for my bro«
therms behariour, and could not with honour yield any
more than I did ta pacify him. But he must be hum-

• Rapturous i. e, oatrageoos.

180 THE SHBPRERO'S CALENDAR.

he 'vmB yotir oDnseat to <my siccm llimg> dkuiA ye
grmt k. That's a*. Take an auld loofs advke gin ye
wad prosper. Folk are a' wise ahim iht band, and mid

*< Den*, j^frs Jane, whitt objedio&s cm yon Iiat« to
Mr JShnds Boai^ tbe ai06t «eeompliciied ytstoig ge&-
tleman of the whole country ?"

*i f CvmidiBfaad g^mieman I X)Maip&hed Idm-nilk !
m tali yaa what, brother I&iry,-*^c»ra I W)Mr»«^land*
last lady^ i waxl aatfaer be a tatter'a feyboard. What
has he to maintain a Wy i^oiwe widi ? The wind o'
his rkmgs, iforaooth dw.-^4iHnioB ^ sell that for gsMid m
gevpings. Heoh met Gra^y^wad tbey be wha wad
bay' il^ and 'diey wha tniat 1» crazy peepie^A)^: Aeir
Uni^ wiil live h«t icrasily. Take an tMdd ibd^ ad<^
vice gin ye w;ad prai^iv elM yell be wite ahiat the
hands iiaiw nae nmdr te ido with liim-*«Neirfi 4bread
for juB betted ; tell him that, Or> by my eeity, gki I
meet wi' him ftu» to iwe, Til tell hun.''

^ It would be twfriendly m me to keep «iig^ a ee-
iMt^wai yo1:^ aifiiter, iCsauMlerbig lite intei^
taken Jn any fam^ I iuwe given him my cotaMnt to
Tiait myidanghter, bat «t tiM aame time ha^e iieMirict-
ed him from mentioning matrimony until he have «on-
svteedhia&flier;'

^< And what ia^evisfCing to gang for, then? Away
wi' him I Our Nell'a lood for 1^ betters. What wad

t«B LAniD O** GA8SWAY. -' 18T

ytm tluaktm sbe eoold get the Yovng Laird, his bro*
liier, nd' It t>link o' ker ee r

** Ne^€$r speak to me 6f that, Mrs Jane. I vad ra^
tber Me ^e po()rest «f his shepherd lads coming tar
ccftttt my child thaA see him {* and "wHh these mrorda
Heiffy left the raem.

Mm JaM stoodlong, making faces, shaking her apron
widi holli hands, nodding her head, and sometimes gi^
Ting ttstamp with her fo<)t. ^IhaTesetmyfoceagaiaaa
liAt comiexioB/' said she ; ^< oar Kell's no wade lor a
hvAy %o a Lenden lawyer. It wad set her nrtlier hci^
ter t^ be Lady ef Cassway. Ilie Young Laird, fat
me I I'll hae the branks of love thrown over the heada
if A» twitoeaie, tie the tangs thej^tlier, and then let
liiate g<iMep like twa kippled grews. My brodier Haf>»'
ry'a a aiaaple man ; be disna ken the credit 'timt he haa
by hiBdanghters^x-thanksto some other body diaa him T
^Heoe N^ has ashapa, an ee, and « lady-4naaner4hat'
wad kilhab the best lord o' the kingdom, wdre he t0;
come ttnder ^leir influence -and my maaoorres^ She's
a Jerdan m' tiumgh ; and that Til lettkem keni Fdlk"
are a' wise ahint the Jband ; credit only oomes by ealdl^
8Hd keep. Ooodnigltt ^ af ytnanger brothers^ paffiags
o' ioye Towa, and-salbs o' wind J Gie hie the good'
gBBOi hi^ the Ygmff wedders, and bob-tail'd yowes^.-
and Isltlie Law and ^<}o6pel*4Be& s^ the windV'
their lungs as dear ae they can«"

182 THE shepherd's cai^endaiu

bi a fewdays, Heniy of Dnunfielding wta called
<mt to attend his Chief on some expedition ; on "whkk
Mtr Jane, not caring to trust her message to any other
person, went over to Cassway, and invited H^ Young
Laird to Dnunfielding to see her niece, quife coi^m.
ced that her charms and endowments w<»vil4 l^ ^Bfie
enslare the elder hrolher as they had done the^yoimger*
Tarn Beattie was delighted at finding such a good bad^
friend as Mrs Jane, for he had not failed t^ obseryCy
for a twelvemonth back, that Ellen Scott was rery
pMtty, and, either throu^ chance or design^ be asked
Mrs Jane if the young lady was privy to this invitar
Him.

: ^ She privy to it T exclaimed Mrs Jane, shaking
her apron. ^ ISr, weel I wat, no I She wad soon bsi^
flown in my hee wf her gibery and her jaiikery»:had.
I taold her my enand ; but the gowk kens what the
tkdhig wants, although it is not aye crying, Give, gwe^
like the horse k»ch-leech.'*

'■■ ** Does the hofse^leech xeally cry that, Mrs Jane ?
I shduld think, frtnn a view of its mouthy that it could
«itecely cry any thing,'' said Tom.

** Are ye 616 a reprobate as to deny the words o' ibe
Scripture^ mr? Hech, wae's me \ whaJt some folk hae
to answei* for! We're a' vrise ahmt the hand. But
hark ye,-— come ye ower in time, else I am feared 8he>
may be settled for ever out o' your reach. Now, I

THE LAIRD OP CASSWAY^ IBS

OBttim Ude to tUnk on that, for I hare alwayi tkonglit
yon twa made for ane anither. Let me take a looko'
yoa £rto ti^^ to tae— O yes— made for ane anither.
Gotee ower In tirae, befoie billy Hany come hame
a^rin ; and let your visit be in timeons homn, else IH
gieyoa the backof thedoor tokeep.-— Tl\^d reprobatep
iftetccelaimed to herself, on takmg her leave; ^to der
ny that the horse loch-leech can speak I Ha*-he— •
The Yom^ Laird is the man for me r

' Tbomfas Beattie was tme to his appointm^it, as may-
be s«]^K>8ed, and Mrs Jane having her niece dressed
in styioi he was perfectly charmed with her; and real^^
ly it cannot be denied that Ellen was as much delight*
ed with him. She was yomig, gay, and froHesome^
and EUen never speftt a more joyous and happy after-
noon, oi? knew before what it was to be in a presence
that delisted her so much. While they sat conver*
sing, and apparently bettes satisfied with the conqiany of
each other than was likely to be regarded with indif-
ference by any other individual aspiring to the fiivour'
of the yonng lady, the door was opened^ and these en*
tered no odier than Francis Beattie I When Ellen saw
her devoted lover appear thus sndd^y, she Unshed
deeply, and her glee was damped in a moment. She
looked rather like a condenmed criminal, or. at least i^
guilty creature, than what she really was,*-a being over

184 THB 6HePRBRD*S CALENDAR.

vHidse mind tlie cloud of gailt had nerer cast ks "Bfaft-"
dow,

' Funnels loved her abore all things on earth or in hea-
ven, and the moment he saw her so much abashed at
being sni^rised in the company of his brot^r, his spnit
was moved to jeakmfly — to maddening and tmcontrol-
able jealousy. His «srB rang, his hair stood on end,
and the •contowr of his face became 13ce' a bent bow.
He walked up to hAs broilrtv with his hand on his hilt,
aod, in a state of excitement which renadered Ms words
imBftiOidate, addmssed lAth thus, while h^ teeth frimnd
together lik^ it 1iofi3e*rattle :

•* Pmy, sir, may I atlk you of your intentioMB, and of
wliM yon are seeking here?**

« I know not, Frai&, what tight yoti have ttt afek any
Stf<h qnes/tionst bnt you wHI aMoW that I have a right
te fldskat you what you are sfeekilig here at ^resem^ see-
ing you come so very inopportunely?*'

* 8ff^ said Francis, whose passic^n could stay no
farther parley, '^ 'dare yon put it to the issue of the
swotd tUs moment ?"

•''Come now, detf FVancis, do not act the fool and
the madman both at a time. Rather than bring such
a dispute to the issue of the sword between two bro-
Aers who never had a quarrel in their lives, I propose
i&at We bring it to a much more temperate and deci-
sive issue here where we stand, by giving the maiden

TU£ LAIRD OF CAS8WAY. 165

heat dbeice. Stand jim there at that comer of the
room, I at thk, a&d Ellen Scott in the middle ; let ui
hoth ask h&Cf and to whomsoeyer she comes, the prize
be his. Why should we try to decide, by the loss of
one of our lives, what we cannot decide, and what may
be d^ided in a friendly and rational way in one mi-
nute?"

^< It is easy for you, sir, to talk temperately and with
indi^fereitQe of such a trial, but not so with me* Thif
yelling lady is dear to my heart.''
. , '^ Well, but so is she to mine. Let us, therefore^
sppeal to the lady at once, whose claim is the best ;
imd as. your pretrasiona are the.highes^ do yo« ask her
first,"

^ My Nearest Elleii,'' said Francis, humbly asd ai^
fecdoulely, >< you know thai my whole soul is devo*
ted to your love, and that I aspire to it only in tba
most honourable way ; put an end to this dispute there-
fore by liODOuring me with the preleienoe which the
naeqnivocal offer of my hand merits."
. Elles stood dwid) and motionkBs, looking ateadiiM^
ly 4k>W]i at tbe hem of her green jerkin, which she was
inbUnig with bolih her hands. She dared not lift am
eye to mther of the brothers, though apparently cob?
scious that she ought to have recognised the ckima of
Francis.
'■ ^ EUm, I need not tell you that I love you," aaid

186 THE shepherd's calendar.

Thomas, in a light and careless manner, as if certain that
bb appeal would be successful ; ^^ nor need I attempt
to tell how dearly and how long I will love you, for in
faith I cannot. "Will you make the discovery for your-
self by deciding in my favour ?"
- Ellen looked up. Thwe was a smile on ber lovely
face; an arch, mischievous, and happy smile, but it
lumed not on Thomas. Her face turned to the con-
trary side, but yet the beam of that smile fell not on
francis, who stood in a state of as tenible suspense be-
tween hope and fear, as a Roman Catholic sinner at
the gate of beaven, who bas implored of St Peter to
open t^e gate, mi »w«uits ^ fin^l loisweri T^e die .of
his fate was soon cast, for Ellen, looking one way, yet
moving another, straightway threw herself into Thomas
'Beattie's arms, exclaiming, << Ah, Tom I I fear I am
doing that which I shall rue, but I must trust to your
•generosity; for, bad as yon are, I like you the bestl"
Thomas took ber in his arms, and kissed her; but
before be could say a word in return, the. despair and
ciige of his brother, breaking forth over every barrier of
veBBQKkf intenm^ted him. << This is the trick of .a
«»ward, to screen himself.from the chastisement he de-
«irve8. But you escape me not thus I Follow me if
|fOu dare V*. . And as he said .this, Francis rushed from
the house, shaking his naked sword at his brother. .
^ £llen V^'iQU^-vith.agit&tiipn at. the young man's

THE LAIRD OF CASSWAY. 187

rage ; and while Thomas still continued to assure her
of his unalterable affection, Mrs Jane Jordan entered,
plucking her apron so as to make it twang Uke a bow-
string.

« What's a' this, Squire Tvmmas ? Are we to be
babbled out o' house and hadding by this raptorous*
young lawyer o' yours ? By the soub o* the Jerdans,
m kidc up sic a stouie about his lugs as shall blind the
juridical een o* him I It's queer that men should study
the law only to learn to break it. Sure am I, nae gen*
tleman, that hasna been bred a lawyer, wad come into
a neighbour's house bullyragging that gate wi' sword
toL handi malice prepense in his eye, and tenom <m hii
tongue* Just as a lassie hadna her ain freedom, o'
dunce, because a fool has been pleased to uk. her I
Hand the grip you hae. Niece Nell ; ye hae made 9^
wise choice for aince. Tam's the man for my money !
Polk are a' wise ahint the hand, but real wisdom Ilea
in taking time hy the forelock. But, Squire Tarn, the
tUng that I want to ken is this — Are you going to put
up wi' a' that bullying and threatening, or do ye
propose to chastise the fool according to his folly ?"
:<^ In truth, Mrs Jane, I am very sorry for my bro«
tber's behariour, and could not with honour yield any
more than I did ta pacify him. But he must be hum-

* Ri^toxooi^ i. e. oatrageoos.

186 THS 8HEFH£K1>'S CALENDAB.

bled. It will not do to suffer him to cuiy nutten
■6 iugh a hand"

' ^ No w» wid ye be Imt adTiaed and leave bim to me,
I would play him sic a pUsky as he shonldna forget till
bis dying day. By the souls o' the Jerdans, I would !
Now promise to me that ye winsa fi^t him."

** O promise, promise V cried EUoi ydiemeiitly,
** ior the Btke of heayen s love, promise my annt that."

ThomM smiled and shook his head, as much as if he
bad said, << Yoa do not know what yon are addng."
Bin Jane went on.

^ Do it then— do it with a yengeanee, and xtemem-
ber this, that wherever ye set the place o' comhat, be
h in hill or dale, deep linn or moss hagg, I shall have
4 tfairdnnan there to cnoonrage yon on. I shall give
|Fon a meeting yon little wet o^'*
. Thomas Beattie took all this for words of course, as
Mrs Jane was weU known for a raving, ranting old
Dudd, whose v^emence few regarded, though a great
Many respected her for the care she had tak^i of her
sbter^s £smily, and a greater number still regarded her
with terrei^, as a being possessed of superhuman
pswers ; so after many es^iressions of the fcmdest love
for EUen^ he took his leave^ his mind being mad^ up
how it behoved him to deal with his brother.

I forgot to mention before, that old Beattie lived at
Nether Cassway with his. family; and his eldest son

THE LAIRD OF CASSWAY. 189

Thomfts at Over Cassway, haviog, on his father's entei^
ing into a second marriage, heen put in possession •f
that castle, and these lands. Francis, of conrse, lived
in his father's house when in Scotland ; and it was thus
that his brother knew nothing of his frequent visits !•
Ellen Scott.

That night, as soon as Thomas went home, he dii^
patched a note to his brother to the following purport :
That he was sony for the rudeness and unreasonable-
ness of his behaviour. But if, on coming to himself,
he was willing to make an apology before his mistreM,
then he (Thomas) woidd gladly extend to him the
right hand of love and brotherhood ; but if he refused
this, he would please to meet him on the Crook of
Glen-dearg next morning by the sun-rising. Frands
returned for answer that he would meet him at the
time and place appointed. There was then no farther
door of reconciliation left open, but Thomas still had
hopes of managing him even on the combat field.

Francis slept little that night, being wholly set eft
revenge for the Toss of his beloved mistress; and t
little after day-break he arose, and putting himself ift
light armour, proceeded *to the place o'f rendezvous.
He had farther to go than his elder brother, and o|i
coming in sight of the Crook of Glen-dearg, he per-
ceived the latter there before him. He was wrapt iii
his cavalier s cloak, and walking up and down the Cro^

190 THE SHEPHERD S CALENDAR.

with impassioned strides, on wbich Francis soliloqiuzed
as follows, as he hasted on : — << Ah ha I so Tom is here
before me I This is what I did not expect, for I did
not think the flagitious dog had so much spirit or cour-
age in him as to meet me. I am glad he has I for how
I long to chastise him, and draw some of the pampered
blood from that vain and insolent heart, which has be-
reaved me of all I held dear on earth !''

In this way did he cherish his wrath till close at his
brother's side, and then, addressing him in the same in-
solent terms, he desired him to cease his cowardly co-
gitations and draw. His opponent instantly wheeled
about, threw off his horseman's cloak, and presented
bis sword ; and behold the young man's father stood be-
fore him, armed and ready for action ! The sword fell
from Francis's hand, and he stood appalled as if he had
been a statue, unable either to utter a word or move a
uiuscle.

** Take up thy sword, caitiff, and let it work thy
pathless work of vengeance here. Is it not better that
thou shouldst pierce this old heart, worn out with care
lOid sorrow, and chilled by the ingratitude of my race,
than that of thy gallant and generous brother, the re-
presentative of our house, and the Chief of our name ?
Take up thy sword, I say, and if I do not chastise thee
as thou deservest, may Heaven reft the sword of jus-
tice from the hand of the avenger I"

THE LAIKD OF CASSW^T. 191

<" The God of Hesfea foriiid t^it I i^mU e«v tfi
my swoid against my faonovred fitWr T aid Titm'm

^ Thoa darest not, thoa traiuir and ofrarvdr* !»-
tamed the &tha-« — ^ I throvr back ibe diyarrful
terras in thy teeth which thoa VBMrst t* thy
Thou camest hae boiline with raacov. to «hfid
hlood; and n^ien I a|^>ear in penoB ior h
darest not accept the chaDenge.**

<< Yon never did me wroiig, my dear fthrr: hus my
brother has wronged me in the tendeieKt ftnT

^ Thy brother never wronged thee TrtnrfifiBr.
thou deceitful and sanguinary frrtiirkie. Ii waft ihtMi
alone who forced this quarrel upon Idm ; and I La»i!
great reason to soqiect thee of a dengn to em him ^
that the inheritance and the maid might both he thiae
own. Bnt here I swear by the arm that made me, and
the Redeemer that sared me, if thou wilt not go '■>»'*^gM
and kneel to thy brother for forgiTeaees, confiimaig thy
injnrions treatment, and sweanng snlMmmoB to thy
natural Chief, I will banish thee from my hoaae wmi
presoice for erer, and load thee with a parent's cnrw^
which shall never be removed from thy sool till thov
art crashed to the lowest helL**

The yoang scholar, being utterly astounded at his
fsther's words, and at the awful and stem mmmn^ in
which he addressed him, whom he had never before re-
primanded, was wholly overcome. He kneeled to Us

192 THR shepherd's CALE>n>All.

parent, and implored his forgiveness, promising, with
tears, to fulfil every injunction which it wonld please
him to enjoin ; and on this understanding, the two part-
ed on amicahle and gracious terms.

Francis went straight to the tower of Over Cassway,
and inquired for his brother, resolved to fulfil his father's
stem injunctions to the very letter. He was infcnmed
his brother was in his chamber in bed, and indisposed.
He asked the porter farther, if he had not been forth
that day, and was answered, that he had gone forth
early in the morning in armour, but had quickly re-
turned, apparently in great agitation, and betaken him-
aelf to his bed. Francis then requested to be taken to his
brother, to which the servant instantly assented, and led
him up to the chamber, never suspecting that there
could be any animosity between the two only brothers ;
but on John Burgess opening the door, and announ-
cing the Tutor, Thomas, being in a nervous state, was
a little alanned. << Remain in the room there, Bur-
gess," said he. — " What, brother Frank, are you seek-
ing here at this hour, armed capapee ? I hope you are
not come to assassinate me in my bed ?"

" God forbid, brother," said the other; ** here
John, take my sword down with you, I want some
private conversation with Thomas." John did so, and
the following conversation ensued ; for as soon as the
door closed, Francis dropt on his knees, and said, << O,

8

• THB LAIRD OF CASSWAT. IM

my dear brother, I have erred grievously, and am come
to confess my crime, and implore your pardon."

« We have both erred, Francis, in suffering any
earthly concern to incite us against each osier's lires*
We have both erred, but you have my forgiveness
cheerfully ; here is my hand on it, and grant me thine
in return. Oh, Frands, I have got an admonition this
morning, that never will be erased from my memory,
and which has caused me to see my life in a new light.
What or whom think you I met an hour ago on my
way to the Crook of Glen^-dearg to encounter you ?"
<< Our £atha', perhaps."
<< You have seen him, then ?"
^ Indeed I have, and he has given me sack a repri-
mand for severity,' as son never before received from
a parent."

^ Brother Frank, I must t^ you, and when I do,
you will not believe me— It wcu not our father whom
we both saw this morning."

" It was no other whom I saw. What do you
mean ?. Do you suppose that I do not know my own
faOier?"

<< I tall you it was not, and could not be. I had an
express from him yesterday. He is two hundred miles
from ibis, and cannot be in Scotland aooner than three
weeks hence."

VOL. I. I

IM THE gDEPHaa>*$ CAuamtB.

- It if trmt — dm I swacL and tbe eertunCT of it
dkewd wat as kon. Yos net be a«w Aat he
■oc kone last aiehi. lad that !■» horse and le^

^ He w«B not at koaae. it is trae, nor have his horse
and retinae arriTed in Scotland. StiD diere is no den^r-
iog that our £ttherii here, and that it was he who ^M>ke
to and admoni&hed meT

^ I tell yon it is impossible. A spirit hadi spoke
to OS in onr Other's likeness, for he is not, and cannot
be, in Scotland at this time. My frcnlties are altoge-
ther confounded by the erent, not being able to calcu-
late on the qualities or ccmdition of our m<mitor. An
evil spirit it certainly could not be, for all its admo*
nitions pointed to good. I sorely dread^ Frands, that
our father is no more— that there has been another
engagement, that be has lost his life, and that his soul
has been lingering around his family before taking its
final leave of this sphere. I believe that our father is
dead ; and for my part I am so sick at heart, that my
nerves are all unstrung. Plray^ do you take horse and
post off for Salop, from whence his commission to me
yesterday was dated, and see what hath happened to
our revered father."

<* I cannot, for my life, give credit to this, brother,

^"HB ljlIbd op cjLmwxr.

'VW

or that it was any odMr

who rebuked me. P^y alkrv tmt t*

day at least, before I sec ohl

afypear in the nei^boaihood,

himself for

our qnarvd?

<<No. HeneverMked
ged me sharply with anr intcBt cm. ^he
adjured me^ by my regard for hi*
in hearen, to desist from bbt

^< Then he knew it aD iaUuiitdT; isr nek 1 icK
went in yiew of the spot sppaiaac
percerred him walking dofply to
his military doak. He never so
look at me, till I came dose to li
it was yonrself,! fell to apU aidiag
to draw. He then dnew oC !■§ doak, dnrw km Mr«r<
and, telling me he came in yoar pboe, darai sk to tkt
encoimter. Bnt he knew all the giowadi of mm ^gmt'
rel minotely, and laid the UaoK am aae. I mrm I aai
a little puzzled to recondle tinniaitfia<»ij bat sm amk'
vinced my father is near at hand. I heard hi* words,
and saw lus eyes flashing anger mA fadifailioa Uik
fortonately I did not tondi him,
an end to all donbts ; for he did not pwsutt the
of recondliation to me, as I expected he woald haf«

196 THE 8H£PH£RD*S CALENDAR.

done, on my yielding implicitly to all his ii^^uno-
tions."

The two brothers then parted, with protestations, of
mutual forbearance in all time coming, and with an
understanding, as that was the morning of Saturday,,
that if their father, or some word of him, did not reach
home before the next evening,.. the Tutor of Cassway
was to take horse for the county of Salop, early on
Monday morning.

Thomas, being thus once more left to himself, could
do nothing but toss and tumble in his bed, and reflect
on the extraordinary occurrence of that morning ; and,
after many troubled cogitations, it at length occurred
to his recollection what Mrs. Jane Jerdan had said to
him :— << Do it then. Do it with a vengesoice I-— But
remember this, that wherever ye set the place of com-
bat, be it in hill or dale, deep linn, or moss hagg, I
shall have a thirdsman there to encourage you.on^ I
shall give you a meeting you little wot of."

If he was confounded before, he was ten times more
so at the ren\embnmce of these words, of most ominous
import. .

At the .time he totally disregarded them, taking
them for mere rodomontade 4 but now the idea, was to
him terrible, that his iFather's spirit, like the ]M*ophet'8
of jold, should have been conjured up by witchcraft ;
and then again he bethought himself that no witch

THB ImAUld or CJLmW AT. 197

irerfd bK9%empkifed har powgr to putt c^iL la

the end, he knew not what to think, aad wm, tikav tW

hsmfiMT lh>m its raBC, he gxfe ^vee n^ «■ the pi^e

drmm^ Air there were no befi» m ^he t««CB«f

days, 'tfid tip «me old John BMgui,

tie's ty»nrlwiMWy huntsman, and groom of the

One wfai» had been attached to the t^mty 1m Msj

yean^ and he says, m his sknr W4

« Hdw'ii urn now, caUan' ? — la to« omj

There larbcea tway staga aeea iathe

tis mwMBu^ riready.**

<< Ay, and there has been aaMedaaf elw
that ties iDiStandr «» Hiy hart, t#Hiayr Jahnlaobtdat
hiS'ldaMer wi& an inqiuutiTe eye wmA ^nivvriBC fi|N
but* md Bodiing. The latter went on, '^ 1- aai very
tmwell to-day, J<rfm, and carmoc teO what is ti» sa^*
ter tirith me. I thii^ I am bewitdiedL*'

'' It's very like ton is, caUan. I piis nae danU en t
at a*

<^ B there any body in diis moor ^strict whom yon
«rer heard bhoned far the horr9>le crime of witd^
'craft?

<^ Ay, that there is ; mairthananeortway. There*
our ai^ghboiir, Lncky Jerdaa, for instance, and her
niece Nell,—- the warst o' the pair, I doobt.'' John aaid
this with a sly Mnpid leer, for he had admitted the <dd
"ladyio^i ancBadce with Ub master the daf before, and

196 THE SHSmCBD S CALDKDAB.

bad eyed kiiB aftcrvmk bendbig Iwoome towiid»

^ Jolm, I am not &pmed to jeA wn ihm Ume ; for
I am disturbed in mind, and Tery HL Tell mc^ in le-
alityy did yon erer hear Mn Jane Jcvdan accnaed oi
being a witdi r"*

^ Why, look thee, master^ I dares nae aay At's a
wotch ; for Lodcy has mony good points in iier cba>
lacter. Bat it's weel kenned she has mair power nor
her ain, for she can stwop a' the plews in Eakdale wi'
a ware o' her hand, and can raise the dead onto' their
graresy jnst as a matter o* cwoorse.**

^ That, John, is an extraordinary power indeed.
But did yon never hear of her sending any living men
to their graves ? For as that is rather the danger that
hangs over me, I wish yon wonld take a ride over and
desire Mrs Jane to come and see me. Tell her I am
ill, and request of her to come and see me."

<< I shall do that, callan*. But are ton sure it is the
anld wotch I'm to bring ? For it strikes me the young
ane maybe has done the deed ; and if sae, she is the
fittest to effect the cure. But I sail bring the auld ane^—
Dinna flee intil a xage, for I sail bring the auld ane ;
though, gude forgie me, it is unco like bringing the
houdy;*

Away went John Burgess to Dmmfielding ; but Mrs
Jane would not move for all his eutreaties. She sent

THB I.AIBD OF CABSWAT. 199

hmck ward to bk master, to ^ nm cm o }m bod. fm
he wad be wanr if ooy thing ailed bin ; aad if be bad
aught to say to anki Jane Jeidan, «be woobl be mdr
to hear it at hame, though he bebored to
that it wasna ilka soli^ect under the nm thai «be
thole to be questioned anent."*

With this answer John was fovoed to
there being no accounts of old Beattie baFing
in Scotland, the young men reaniaed all the
day in the utmost constenatioB at the
their father they had seen, and tbe appalliag rebdiK
had received from it. The
jBcarce donbt that they bad bad
pematoral being ; and not being able to •
conclnsion

father was dead ; and accordingly, both prepared lor
setting oat eaiiy osl Monday morning towaids the
ty of Salop, from ^Hience they bad last bard of
But jnst as they were ready to set ont, wboi
spniB were bndded on and their bones bridled, Andnv
Johnston, their fsitber s confidential aemnt, arrifvd
from the place to which they were bomHL He bad
rode night and day, never once stinting the bgbt gal-
ley as he said, and had dianged his bone atwi
He appeared as if lus ideas were in a state of
ment and confonon ; and when he saw bis yoong
tm standing together, and ready-moonted for a jow»

to
\mt at length
iproien tolaifc
of two ■Mudreo mSn ;
r, jam mnkw mtmit hovD sone me» for what pur-
JOB fasiTp tlooo th» ? Sajy them, at oiiee, wfaMt
■csHgekr la our fiii:dier aim P'^
^Ye— €a; I think he k."
' ^ .Yon ilMil he is ? Aio yon nncertaiiiy then?**
' ^I^meotatiiheianotiiMi^ — aft least was not when
I left hiiii. Bntp-^mm— -eeitaiBly th^e has a dnoige
taken place. Haik ye, maatere— can a man he said to
be in life n^ien he ia oat of himself?"

<< Why,, man, keep ns not in dns thrilling suspense,
-«-l8 onr fiuher well ?*'

« No-^not quite welL I am sorry to say, honest
fenileman^ that he is not. But the truth is, my mas-
ten^ now that I see you well and hearty, and ahout to
take, a journey in company, I begin to suspect that I

" THE LAIRD or CJU5WAT. ttl

bav^ beeoi posted all tfan wmy ob a fooTt em»d : i&d
not another syllable will I qieak oo the fatjert. tS J
have had some refreshment, and if yon mSA
hearing a ridicaloas stoiy, yo« shall Imr it

When the matter of the refifnhaaeai had
oyer to Andrew's fidl satisfiscdon, he beeaB m UfBmm%

<^ Why, faithy yon see, my masten, it is ac< eas^ «
say my errand to yon, for in fmct I havie none
fore, all that I can do is to teU to« a t<orr«
ridicnioas one it is, as ever seat a poor Mi^vw mm ^m
-the gallop for the matter of two Iwadud adVit «r ssu
On die morning before last, right earir. fiti^ Imv^. i1«
page, comes to me, and he sayv, — • Ftfarrti-, "^^-i maat
go and Tisit measter. He*s faadL'

<' ' Bad!' says L < \llBten way i» he bad r

<< < Why,' says he, ' he's so £v iH » W« wK w«il
and denres to see yion withoot one flMmar/* delay.
He's in fine taking, and that 3ro«'Ii fiad ; bat whmiw
do I stand here ? Lword, I nerer sM swh a fsititu
Why, Johnston, does tho« know that measMr haili
Iwost himself?'

<< ^ How lost himself? rabbit,' say* I, ^speak piaia
out, else 111 have thee faig-haaled, thon dwarf !' ior my
blood rose at the imp, for fooling at any ■ifi>hap af
my master s. But my dM^er only ande hiss worta,
for there is not a greater deil's-bvdde m ail the Vit€
Dales.

i2

202 THE SHEPH£RD*S CALEKBAB.

^< ^ Why, man, it is true that I said,' quoth he, laugh-
ing; < the old gmijr squoir hath Iwost himself; and it
will he grand sport to see thee gcnng calling him at all
the steane-croases in the kingdom, in this here way—
Ho yes ! and a two times ho yes I and a tkre^ times
ho yes! Did any hody no see the hetter half of my
measter, Laird of the twa Cassways, Bloodhi^, and
Pantland, which was amissing oyemight, and is suppo-
sed to have gone a-wool-gathering ? If any hody hath
seen that hetter part of my measter, whilk contains as
mooch wit as a man could drive on a hurlhairow, let
them restore it to me, Andrew Johnston, piper, trum-
peter, whacker, and wheedler, to the same great and
nohle squoir ; and high shall be his reward — Ho yes !'

<^ ^ The devil restore thee to thy right mind I' said I,
knocking him down, and leaving him sprawling in the
kennel, and then hasted to my master, whom I found
feverish, restless, and raving, and yet with an earnest-
ness in his demeanour that stunned and terrified me.
He seized my hand in both his, which were burning
like fire, and gave me such a look of despair as I shall
never forget. * Johnston, I am ill,* said he, * grievous-
ly ill, and know not what is to become of me. Every
nerve in my body is in a burning beat, and my soul is
as it were torn to fritters with amazement. Johnston,
as sure as you are in the body, something most deplo-
rable hath happened to em.'

THK LADLD OF CJkSVAT. W

^ < Yes, M sore as I am n tbe boor,
ter/ says L < B«t 111 Isve iva Um ami
style ; aad yoo shall toon be a§ tMntf afr » wct ' mj«
I ; < for a gentleami aiast mm lose keart a'niigfTii»r Sir
a little fiie-raisiBg in his owtwofkA, M it ^aci ims na^i
lihe dtadel,* says I to lum. B«t he est mt Aan vf
phakii^ his head and flinging my hnui cram ftaak

^ < A tmee with yonr talking.' ay% htu - Has
hath be£dlen me is as mnch ahore n
as the son is ahoTe the earth, ami weus niH her
prehended by mortal man : bvt I wmA. iaStnm rvn W
it, as I hare no other mrst of i Maint the 3iaekiir4«C3e
I yearn for, and which I am incafttbie of gnuiHg ya^
sonally. Johnstcm, there nerer waft a insiifcl mui lad-
fered what I hare soffered since aadnight, I beiiere
I bare had doings with hell ; for I hare been riiitfm
bodied, and embodied again, and the intentmof my t^r-
tores has been unparalleled^ — ^I was at home thifr morB-
jng at day-breaL*

*^ < At home at Cassway V says L < I am korry to
Jiear you say so, master, became yon know, or fehonld
Jmow, that the thing is imposnble, yon being in the an-
cient town of Sfarewsbnry on the King'ft bwamsm,*

u < J ^i^jyy 2t home in very deed, Andrew,* retmned

he ; < bnt whether in the body, or ont of the body, I

-cannot tell — the Lord only knoweth. But there 1 was

^in this guise, and with this heart and all its feelings

£04 THE shepherd's GALEan>AR.

within me, where I saw scenes, heard words, and spoke
others, which I will here relate f o you. I had finish*
ed my dispatches last night hy midnight, and was sil*
ting musing on the hard £ate and improTidence of my
sovereign master, when, ere ever I was aware, a ndgh*
hour of onrs, Mrs Jane Jordan, of Dromfielding, a
mysterious character, with whom I have had some
strange doings in my time, came suddenly into the
Clamber, and stood before me. I accosted her with
doubt and terror, asking what had brought her so te
from home.*

<< < You are not so far from home as you imagine^'
said she ; ^ and it is fortimate for some that it is so.
Your two sons have quarrelled about the possession of
mece Ellen, and though the eldest is blameless of the
quarrel, yet has he been forced into it, and they are en*
gaged to fight at day-break at the Crook of Glen-dearg.
There they will assuredly fall by each other's hcmds,
if you interpose not ; for there is no other authority now
on earth that can prevent this woful calamity.'

" * Alas ! how can I interfere,' said I, * at this dis-
tance ? It is already within a few hours of the meet-
ing, and before I get from among the windings of the
•Severn, their swords will be bathed in each other's
blood I I must trust to the interference of Heaven.'

" * Is your name and influence, then, to- perish for
'ever ?' said she. Is it so soon to follow your master's,,

THE LAIBD OW CAWWAT.

die gfett Maxwdl of the Dmlea, into stter oyii
.Why not ndMr voMe into reqaiMtian thn
tfaespiiito that wsteh oTcr hoinai deBtinieftr At
«tep naide with me^ that I may diaciat the
yamr eyes. Yon know I can do it ; aod
met according to yovr nataral mpalae.'

<^ <Sneh wero the import of the wonk
-me, if not the ^eiy worda themaelTea. I
them not at the time ; nar do I vet. Bat
done speaking, she took me bjr the hand, aiwi hnnitd
me towards the door of the apartinent, which Jk
ed, and the first step we took over the thnakhold,
stepped into a Toid space, and fell downward. I
going to call out, but felt my descent to npid, that my
Yoice was stifled, and I coold not «o m«ch a* draw my
breath. I expected erery moment to faD aeaoHtt %<mbo-
thing, and be daahed to pieces ; and I khat my eye«,
'Clenched my teeth, and held by the dame's haod with a
tenzied grasp, in expectation of the cjfastmpht. B«t
down we wait— down and down, with a cjtierity which
ct^igne cannot describe, withont Kght, breath, or any
aoft of impediment. I now felt aarared that we had
*both at once stepped from off the earthy awl wen* harled
*into the immeasurable Toid. TheaJrsofdaifai^asa— g
in my ears with a booming din as I rolled dows the
'eteeps of everlasting night, an outcast from natnre and
HBAits harmonies, and a jouraeyer into the depths of hefl*

206 THE shepherd's calendar.

<< < I still held my companion's hand, and felt the pres-
sure of hers ; and so long did this our alarming descent
continue, that I at length caught myself breathing once
more, but as quick as if I had been in the height of a
ferer. I then tried every effort to speak, but they w&e
all unavailing ; for I could not emit one sound, although
my lips and tongue fashioned the words. Think, then,
of my astonishment, when my companion sung out the
following stanza with the greatest glee :— >

* Here we roU,

Body and soul,
Down to the deeps of the Paynim*8 goal—

With speed and with spell.

With yo and with yell,
This is the way to the palace of heU—

Sing To! Ho!

Level and low,
Down to the Valley of Vision we go !'

<< < Ha, ha, ha I Tarn Beattie,' added she, < where is
a' your courage now ? Cannot ye lift up your voice and
«ing a stave wi' your auld crony ? And cannot ye lift
up your een, and see what region you are in now ?'

'< ' I did force open my eyelids, and beheld light,
jand apparently worlds, or huge lurid substances, gliding
by me with speed beyond that of the lightning of hea-
▼en. I certainly perceived light, though of a dim un-
certain nature ; but so precipitate was my descent, I
could not distinguish from whence it proceeded, or of
what it consisted, whether of the vapours of chaotip

THE t-Aiwi* OV

wastes^ or the stresBMn of WiL S* I
eyes doeer than erer, aad wtatd liit
luiittaahle.

<< < We at length cnw Bpa
n^ted oar £vther proeresk I had Mk iaeiac » vt iiiL
against it, but merely as if we caa
some aoh snbstance that impeded
immediately afterwank I percerred
bad ceased.

<< < What a terrible tmnble ve fcae
said my companion. - Bvt ye an- uim- sl 'sut fimat
wbere yon should be ; and del ip«d liifr ok^wwri. 1

<< ' So saying, she quitted my iAnd. sue I i»:h aa £
she were wrested firom me by a dcrd ^^ws : tnc
I dnrst not open my eyes, being coarngxd tiae I
lying in the depths of hell, or some hadwoi pjai» ]««
to be dreamt of ; so I lay sdll in decpoar, uM eT#K da-
ring to address a prayer to my Maker. Ai IcAgih I
lifted my eyes slowly and feaifoDy ; bat they lad ■»
power of distinguishing objects. All that I peDcenncsd
was a vision of something in nature, with o^bich I had
in life been too well acquainted. It was a ghmpce of
green glens, long withdrawing ridges, and one high hill,
with a cairn on its summit. I rubbed my eyes to di-
vest them of the enchantment, but when I opened them
again, the illusion was still brighter and more magnifi-
cent. Then springing to my feet, I perceived that I

'SOB THE 9IIEPHEU>*S

lymg m m little fkiry rmgx boI one kmdred yvds
fioM tbe door of mr own fadU !

^ * I wafly as Toa may well coDceire, dazded with ad-
viratioii ; still I feh that aouic thing was not i%fat with
■K, and that I was struggling with an enchantnent ;
hut recollecting the hideons story told me by the bd-
dame, of the deadly discord between my two sons, I
basted to watch dieir motions, for the morning was yet
but dawning. In a few seconds after recoTering my
amses, I perceived my eldest son Thomas leave his

' tower armed, and pass on towards the phice of appoint-
ment. I waylaid him, and remarked to him that he was
very early astir, and I feared on no good intent. He
made no answer, but stood like one in a stnpor, and
gazed at me. * I know yonr purpose, son Thomas,'
said I ; < so it is in vain for you to equivocate. Yoa
have challenged your brother, and are going to meet
him in deadly combat; but as you value your father's
blessing, and would deprecate his curse — as you value

' your hope in heaven, and would escape the punishment
of hell — abandon the hideous and cursed intent, and be

'reconciled to your only brother/

" ^ On this, my dutiful son Thomas kneeled to me,

■ and presented his sword, disclaiming, at the same time,
dl intentions of taking away his brother's life, and all

• animosity for the vengeance sought against himself^ and

shanked me in a flood of tears for niy interference. I

- THE JLAIHD OP CJiflSWAT.

then commtsded him back to hu cmmch, wad

eloak and sword, hasted sway to iIk Crook of Glc»-

deorgy to wait the arrival of his brother.* "

Here Andrew Johnston's naiialiio in siirf the
aame curcomstanc^ leeorded in a fiwaMi pan of
tale, as haTingpaased between the <atWra«|
er son, so that it is needless to recipiflate
b^finning where that broke aS, he added, ii
of the Old Laird, <' ' As soom m mj
\eh me, in wder to be recofiled to his hntketj I tm*
turned to the fiuryknowe and nnr vhcoe I ins
myself seated at daybreak. I know not i
there> for thongfa I considpiod widb mfmMf
cover no motive that I had Cor rinmg so, hai was M
ihiAer by a sort of iaqiolse wfaidi I
and from the same Ceding spread n
the spot, kid his swoid down beside it^
down to sleep. I remember nothing
degree of accuacy, for I mstaady Cdl iaao a chaaa of
snfiering, confusion, and racking dinMy, frMB wUA I
was only of late released by awaking Cnom aliHca, m
the very seat, and in the same guise in which i was iht
evening before. I am certain I was at hoaw in body
or in spirit-— saw my sons— spake these words to thoB,
aoid heard theirs in retain. How Ivetamed i kaow even
less, if that is possible, than how i went ; Cor it sism
od to mo.lhat the mystenoaa Cocce ^hat pi^nsm as to

tio

flpbocy and iMqiyuiu oi on it, wbs in my esse widi-
dnwn or snbrertnL and timt I merelv fell finmn one
part of the earth'* tmAce and alighted on anotfao'.
Now I am so ill tiiat I cannot move from this coach ;
therefore, Andrew, do yon moont and ride straight
hoowv Spare no horae-flesh, hy night or hy day, to
bring me word of my family, for I dread that some eyil
hath be6Jlen them. If yon find them in life, give them
many charges from me of Intrtherly love and affection ;
if not — ^what can I say, bat, in the words of the patri-
ardi. If I am bereared of my children, I am berea-
Ted.' "

The two brothers, in atter amazement, went together
to the green ring on the top of the knoll above the Cas-
tle of Cassway, and there found the mantle lying spread,
and the sword beside it. They then, without letting
Johnston into the awful secret, mounted straight, and
rode off with him to their father. They foimd him still
in bedy and very ill ; and though rejoiced at seeing them,
they soon lost hope of his recovery, his spirits behig
broken and deranged in a wonderful manner. Their
conTorsations together were of the most solemn nature,
the visitation deigned to them having been above their
capacity. On the third or fourth day, their father was
removed by death from this terrestrial scene, and the
minds of the yoiuig men were so much impressed by
the whole of the circumstances, that it made a great al-

TtiE LAIRD OF CAflSWAT. 211

teration in their after life. Tbonun, as solenmly char-
ged by his father, married Ellen Scott, and Fianm wtm
well known afterward as the celebrated Dr Beattae of
Amherst. Ellen was mother to twelre sons, wmd on
the night that her seventh son was bom, her aant Jcr-
dan was lost, and never more heard of, either liTiag or
dead.*

This will be viewed as a most romantic and vana-
toral story, as without doubt it is ; hot I hare the strang-
est reasons for believing that it is founded oo a litcfal
fact, of which all the three were sensibly aad posilii^'
ly convinced* It was published in England in Dr htmt
de's lifetime, and by his acquiescence, and owing to the
respectable source from whence it cuoe, it was never
disputed in that day that it had its origin in tmth. It
was agpun r^ubUshed, with some miserable ahefBta0n%
in a London collecti<m of 1770, by J. Smithy at Kou li^
Patemoster-Row ; and though I have seen none of theM
■accounts, but relate the story wholly from tmdition, yet
the assurance attained from a friend of thor enumct,
is a curious corroborative circumstance, and provea thitt,
jfthe story was not true, the parties at least bellefcd
4t to he so.

212 THE shepherd's calendar.

CHAPTER VIIL

TIBBY HYSLOP^S DREAM.

Ill the year 1807, when on a jannt tfarongfa the vaU
AtfB of Nith and Annan, I learned the following story
-4ft the GfMrt where the incidents occmred, and^gyen w^
■Dd Tiaited all those connected with it, sothat th»« is
no-donbt with regard to its authenticity.

Ir a odttage called Knowe-back, on theilarge farm of
Dmmlocfaiey lived Tibby Hyslop, a respectable spitr-
•ter, about the age of forty I thought when I saw her,
hnt, of conne, not so old when the fint incidents oe-
carred which this singular tale relates. Tibby was rti^
presented to me as being a good Chidstian, not in nam^
and profession only, but in word and in deed ; and I he*
-lieyal may add, in heart and in soul. Nevertheless,
there was something in her manner and deportment
different from other people— a sort of innocent sim-
plicity, bordering on silliness, together with an insta-
bility of thought, that, in the eyes of many, approached
to abstraction.

TOBBY HYSLOP'b DBSAlfc tlS

But then Tibby could repeat the book of the £i
gelist Luke by heart, and many favourite chapten bath
of theOld and New Testaments ; while there was scvce-
ly one in the whole country so thoroughly acqumated
with those Books from beginning to eod ; for, thoagh
she had read a portion evary day for forty yean, she
had never perused any other books but the Suiptuwa,
They were her week-day books, and her Sanday books,
her books of amusement, and books of devotion. Would
to Grod that all our brethren and s]8ter» of the human
race — the poor and comfortless, as well as the great
and wise— knew as well how to estimate these books
as Tibby Hyslop did !

Tibby's history is shortly this : Her mother mar*
ried a s«*geant of a recruiting party. The year IbDow-
ing he was obliged to go to Ireland, and from theaee
nobody knew whither ; but neither he nor his wife wp-
peared again in Scotland. On their departures, tiiey
left Tibby, then a helpless babe, with her grmdmotJicr,
who lived in a hamlet somewhat about Tinwald ; and
with that grandmother was she brought up^ and taoght
to read her Bible, to card, spin, and work at all kinds
of country labour to which women are accnstonied.
Jane Hervey was her gran^othei^s name, a woman
then scarcely past her prime, certainly within forty
years of age ; with whom lived her elder sister, nuaed
Douglas : and with these two were the early years of

214 THE SUEPH£RD*S CALENDAR.

Tibby Hyslop spent, in poverty, contentment, and de«
TOtion«

At the age of eighteen, Tibby was hired at the Can^e-
mas fair, for a great wage, to be a byre-woman to Mc
Gilbert Forret, then farmer at Drumlochie. Tibby ha
then acquired a great deal of her mother s dangerous
bloom — dangerous, when attached to poverty and so
much simplicity of heart ; and when she came home
and told what she had done, her mother and aunt, as
she always denominated the two, marvelled much at
the extravagant conditions, and began to express some
fears regarding her new master's designs, till Tibby put
them all to rest by the following piece of simple infor-
mation :

" Dear, ye ken, ye needna be feared that Mr Fonet
has ony design o' courting me, for dear, ye ken, he has
a wife already, and five bonny bairns ; and he'll never
be sae daft as fa' on and court anither ane. I'se war-
rant he finds ane enow for him, honest man I" . ^

<< Oh, then, you are safe enough, since he is a mar-
ried man, my bairn," said Jane.

The truth was, that Mr Forret was notorious for de-
bauching young and pretty girls, and was known ii^
Dumfries market by the name of Gibby Gledger, from
the circumstance of his being always looking slyly after
them. Perceiving Tibby so comely, and at the same

TIBBY HYSLOP*S BREAM. 215

time so simple, he hired her at nearly double wages, and
moreover gave her a crown as arle-money.

Tibby went home to her service, and being a pliable,
diligent creature, she was beloved by all. Her master
commended her for her neatness, and whenever a quiet
opportunity offered, would pat her rosy cheek, and say
kind thii^. Tibby took all these in good part, judg-
ing them tokens of approbation of her good services,
and was proud of them ; and if he once or twice whis-
pered a place and an hour of assignation, she took it
for a joke, and paid no farther attention to it. A whole
year passed over without the worthy farmer having ac-
complished his cherished purpose regarding poor Tibby.
He hired her to remain with him, still on the former
high conditions, and moreover he said to her : " I wish
your grandmother and grand-aimt would take my plea-
sant cottage of Knowe-back. They should have it for
a mere trifle — a week's shearing or so — so long as you
remain in my service ; and as it is likely to be a long
while before you and I part, it would be better to have
them near you, that you might see them often, and at-
tend to their wants. 1 could give them plenty of work
through the whole year, on the best conditions. What
think you of this proposal. Rosy ?" — a familiar name
he often called her by.

" O, I*m sure, sir, I think ye are the kindest man
that ever existed. What a blessing is it when riches

216 THE SHEPHERD'S CALENDAR.

open up the heart to acts of charity and bfneTolenoe !
My poor auld mother and aunty will be blytke to grip
at the kind offer ; for they sit under a hard master yon-
der. The Almighty will bestow a blessing on you for
this, sir l"

Tibby went immediately with the joyful Dew9 to her
poor mother and aunt. Now, they had of late found
themselves quite easy in their circumstances, owi9g to
the large wages Tibby received, every farthing of which
was added to the common stock; and though Tibby
displayed a little more finery at the meeting-house, it
was her grandmother who purchased it for her, without
any consent on her part. << I am sure," said her grand-
mother, when Tibby told the story of her master's kind-
ness and attention, << I am sure it was the kindest in-
tervention o* Providence that ever happened to poor
things afore, when ye fell in wi' that kind worthy man,
r the mids o' a great hiring market, where ye might
just as easUy hae met wi' a knave, or a niggard, as wi'
this man o' siccan charity an' mercy."

"rAji the wulcat maun hae his oollop,

And the raven maun hae his part,
And the tod will creep through the heather,

For the bonny moor-hen's heart,"

said old Douglas Hervey, poking the fire all the while
with the tongs, and speaking only as if speaking to her-
self—►-** Hech-wow, and lack-a-day I but the times are

3

TIBBY HYSLOP'b DREAM. 217

fdiered sftir since I first saw the sua ! Poor, poor Ke-
ligioiiy vmes me for W I She was first driven oat o*
ihe lord!s castle into the haron s ha* ; oat o* the barcm s
ha^ into the lurmer s Inen dwelling ; and at last oat o*
that iiito the poor cauldrife shiel, where there's nae
iiber comfort but what she brings wi* her/*

« What has set ye onna thae reflections the day,

aunty?'* cried Tibby aloud at her ear; for she was

half deafy and had so many flannel motdies on, besides*

. a blue iiapkin^ which she always wore over them all,

that her deafness was nearly completed altogether.

<< Oogh I what 8 the lassie saying?** said she, after
listening, agood while, till the sounds penetrated to the
interior of her ear, <' what's the young light-head say-
ing about the defections o* the day? what kens she
.about them ?— oogh ! Let me see your face, dame, and
find your hand, for I hae neither seen the ane, nor felt
the tither, this lang and mony a day.** Then taking
her grand-niece by the hand, and looking close into her
face through the spectacles, she added^ — <' Ay, it is a
weel-faured sonsy face, very like the mother's that bore
ye ; and hers was as like her mother!s ; and there was
never as muckle common sense amang a* the three as
to keep a brock out o' the kail-yard. Ye hae an wnko
good master, I hear—- oogh ! I'm glad to hear't — ^hoh-
oh-oh-oh I — Terra glad. I hope it will lang continue,

VOL. I. K

218 THE SHEPHERD S CALEMPAR.

tills kindness. PoorTibby! — as lang as the heart disna
gang wrang, we maun excuse the head, for it'll jifiYct
aince gang right. I hope they were baith made for a
better warld, for nane o' them were made for thif."

When she got this length, she sat hastily dowi^.and
began her daily and hom*ly task of carding wool f(^ her
sister's spinning, abstracting herself from all external
considerations.

<^ I think aonty 8 nnco parabolical the day/' said
Tibby to her grandmother; " what makes her that
gate ?"

'< O dear, hinny, she's aye that gate now. She speaks
to naebody but hersell," said Jane. <^ But — ^lownly be
it spoken — I think whiles there's ane ^>eaks till her
again that my een canna see."

<< The angels often conversed wi' good folks lang-
syne. I ken o' naething that can hinder them to dp sae
still, if they're sae disposed," said Tibby ; and so the
dialogue closed for the present.

Mr Forret sent his carts at the term, and, removed
the old people to the cottage of Knowe-back, free of all
charge, like a gentleman as he was ; and things went on
exceedingly welL Tibby had a sincere regard for her
master ; and as he continued to speak to her, when
alone, in a kind and playful manner, she had several
times ventured to broach religion to him, trying to dis-
cover the state of his soid. Then he woidd shake his

TIBBT HYSLOP'S DREAM. 219

ke&d, 9kA l^k demure in mockeiy, and repeat some
grove, beconaiing words. Poor Tibby tboogfat be was
a ligliti&iDtift ibxiL

Bni ik a sbort time his purposes were dtmlged in
sndi 'a maibner as to be iio m<H« equivocaL That morn-
ing immediately preceding the derelopement of this
long^berished atrodty, Jane Hervey was awaked at an
early hour by the following unintelligible dialogue in
her elder sister^s bed.

" Have ye seen the news o' the day, kerlin ?"

« Oogh ?"

*< Hare ye seen the news o* the day?"

<< Ay, that I hae, on a braid open book, without cbuip
or seal. Whether will you or the deil win ?**

^ That depends on the citadel. If it stand out, a*
the powers o' hell winna shake the fortress, nor sap a
6tahe '6' its foundation."

^^ Ah, the fortress is a good ane, and a sound ane ;
but the poor head captain I-^ye ken what a sweet-lip-
ped, tnmip-headit brosey he is. O, lack-arday, my poor
Tibby Hyslop ! — my innocent, kmd, thowless Tibby
Hyslipr

Jane was frightened at hearing such a colloquy, but
particularly at that part of it where her darling child
was mentioned. She sprung from her own bed to that
of her sister, and cried in her ear with a loud voice,-^

:^0 TU8 SUEPHERD^S CALENDAR.

^* Sister, sister Douglas, what is that . yon are saying
about our dear bairn ?''

*•' Oogh ? I was saying naething about your bairn.
She lies in great jeopardy ymider ; but nane as yet.
Grang away to your bed — ^wow, but I was sound
asleep."

^< There's naebody can make aught out o' her but
nonsense," said Jane.

After the two had risen from their scanty breakfast,
which Douglas had blessed with more fervency than
ordinary, she could not settle at her carding, but al-
ways stopped short, and began mumbling and speaking
to herself. At length, after a long pause, she looked
OTer her shoulder, and said, — << Jeanie, wama ye speak-
ing o* ganging ower to see our bairn the day ? Haste
thee and gang away, then ; and stay nouther to put on
dean bussing, kirtle, nor barrie, else ye may be an an-
trin meenut or twa ower lang."

Jane made no reply, but, drawing the skirt of her
gown over her shoulders, she set out for Drumlochle,
a distance of nearly a mile ; and as she went by the
comer of the byre, she imagined she heard her grand''
child's voice, in great passion or distress, and ran. straight
into the byre, crying, " What's the matter wi' you, Tib-
by ? what ails you, my bairn ?" but, receiving no an?
vy[&:, she thought the voice must have been somewhere

TIBBT WTKUOfi OBSAJL SI

Withont, and slid ^oedj
and at length went dovm t» tfe

Mr Pomst, tf&v GMgiii^ GUj,
hmnt of jncmwed kkk-
al30 the imHcfnird to«pw of
bemencehythedefiiilaiiBaof WWwbd4Bidbtt»;liag
neTer in his life did he bear wmtk a ii'liAi as ht 4ki
tiiat dayfram AetoBgmcof anchehadaJaai^
as a mere gnylet—. It was
the most SBMime and teniUe
the pare and f amhalii bnaaace of
caved not a doit lor these thiafi
e4» and disposed to his fmaStf,
this fool dioae to do it. He
a part of deep h)poum, pmnaiff ilrtr
tcitioiiy legreilio^ widb tean,
ment. Poor TMj leadBj hefie^ed and lorgm* hnb :
and thinking it hard to ndn a ri>|wf t mmmr ia hm
worldly and femily coneerai^ Uie pnoHK^ Mrv«r w 4^
▼n%e what had paned ; and he, Irinia'inr will <he -ra^
Ine of her word, was giad at hanag so escaped.
. Jane fonnd her grmd-daaghter ippawntly aaaci 4m-
taihed^ hot having adced if ^k ww well aM««h, «a4
TecOTJi^ an answer in the affifawrtire^iJbe was witaii^iii,
and only added, ^ Your ciaaed aonty wad tgmr m^ht^
here ye war in some jeopardy, and hartitd tae away
-iosee yon, widioiit giring me leare to change a stioek^^

222 THK SHfiPUEADii CALBNJOAR.

One may easily conceive Tibby's astoniehioeut at l^eaxr
ing this, considering the monient at which h^ S'iV^''
mother airiTed. As soon as the lattei; wa^ iS9^ f^
kneeled before her Maker» and poured out her soi^^^
grateful thanksgiving for her deliverance ;. and, <.i|i J^**
ticular, for such a manifest interfi»%nce of some^isi;^'^
nor intelligence in her behaUl ., , ..,..,

^ How did ye find our poor bairn the day^ titty. J[^aja ^
Did she no tell ye ony thing?" asked Duu^^nu^fmJiUfi^'^
return. . , .,

*< She tauld me naetlnngy but said «be WH wsifilZ *.

<< She's ae fool, and ye re another I If -I had boQIb^t
I wad hae blazed it baith to kirk and counci};)rrr|o.ibi<^
wife's ear, and to bos mimster'a L She's vefy W^fplfii?
ahe?-^Oogh! Ay. Hoh--oh> — oh — ohlnr^jTjjKH^
man — silly woman— Hoh— oh— oh J" , ;, 'Mur^nijA

In a few weeks, Mr Ferret's behaviour tpJM^^p^j^
dairymaid idtered very materiallyf ^e^iiU^H^j^^
more by the endearing name of Rosy ; pQ9ri4Jb|[\^
oftener the term ; and finding he was. naw Nife;|rom
accusation, his mafevolence towards her.had^icjej^ly
atty bounds. She made out her t^m with ^i^Sfii^b^y
Irat he refused to pay the stt{mlated wage, o^ pisi^^jjuge
of her incapacity ; and as she had by HbaX timt.pi^-
ed well at boa hand, she took what he offered, i^^ii^l^
^ini, andsaid no mwe about it. She was no ipore^j^j^fid
»r a seirvaitt, but having at the first taken a long, l#f^

TIBBT HYSLOf'ti DRfiAAL 223

of tM eottagi6, she^sontaiHied, from yetr lo yiear, wockp
iag'btL^ htm by ^e day, at a very scanty allowance.
Olll Ddtiglasm afe^ years grew incapable of any worki
tbrotigh frailty of person, beii^ constantly confined to
bed^l&inigkin mind as energetic and mysterious as eyer.
Jtkili VrOHf^t long, till at length a seyere illness in 1 799
renda^ her imfit to do any thing farther than occa-
flioittAy knit a stocking ; and Tibby's handywork was
idi iliat -herself and 1^ two old women had to depend
upon. They had bronght her up with care and kind-
nesa amid the most^yindiing poverty, and now, indeed,
her filial affectaon was severely put to the proof ; but it
IMS' lienoine, and knew no bounds. Ni^anddayshe
toiled for h«r aged and feeble relatives, and a murmur
OT'^et^taplatnt never was heard from her lips. Many a
blesnng was bestowed on her as they raised their pal-
i^§fl-tterin to partake of h&r hard-earned pittance ; and
^Aid^ahti^ttt prayer was poured out, when no mor-

ixio'f i^JiOi <gi^0W harder and harder. Thousands yet
ijiti^gri^ebembelr «4iat a period that was for the poor,
rl^M^V^teal^'for aeasons, was from four to five shillings
%<MflUS tnd even sometimes as high as seven. Tibby
'l^^fi! fidlly inoapableof supporting herself and her aged
^fiMis. She slanted herself finr their sakes, and that
'^ffitde h^ stiai more incapable; yet often with teavf^in
'^fi^ ^F^ did she feed these frail bemgs, her h^art: Hke

id4 THEiiingPtLEIlM caleivdar.

tm mth hm^um. the had no mem to ghre tliefD. Tliere
tf^B9 p06v-n(lBi in wtiM covntiy. KiHMf e Imcli is '^pdto
igtiiwi aubody wmt nev it, and Tibby complnn^
t^ noBCy bnl wim^Iil on, nij^lit and day, in aontfwwm
maaetfy hut still widi a Inmible and Aaid^fnl heatu

In titts treat strait, ^Ire Forret was the first wbo be^
g■i^ nasolititcd, to take compassion on the destitntie
groapL She eonid not conmre how they existed on
the p0Qr creature fl earnings. So she went prittitely io"
see tueoti, and when die saw their wretched state, and'
heard tiidr blessings on their dear child, her heart was
nored to pity, and ^ determined to assist them Ifi
secret ; for her husband was such a chiffl, that she diMI^
not venture to do it pnhlicly. Accordingly, whenever'
she had an opportunity, she made Tibby come into the'
kitchen> and get a meal for herself; and often the'^oto^'
fliderate lady slid a small loaf, or a little t^ and sngar,'
into her li^), for the two aged invalids ;-^f or "^enfle^
woman is always the first to pity, and the first to re-
lieve.

Poor TiWby I how her heart expanded with gnrtitnde
on receiving these Kttle presents ! for her love for the'
two old dependent ereatm'es was of so pure and sacred
a sort,'as scarcely to retain in it any thing of the com-
mon feelings of hnmanity. There was no selfish prin-
ciple there — ^they were to her as a part of her own ni^•
tnre.

Tikhy nefv mtt iato tke

iflg^biinig got wotd ai chit Imi wnr,

die lady oCtke

keriritti a lilUe bowl «£ bat

Tbia was all; and

aliment ao buBible

would bare grudged it to i

ed, bowevcTytbat aa Tibbf

joyii^ tbe Mcal, 3fr Fonct

IdtdMntogm

cooafortably engaged,

35ed bee by tbe

da-witb tbe odicr,

door mto tbe yavd«

dun^^bdlL ^ Wki

bome, and eat Of ^ BMBt dot w» ande iir ocbef%

cried he> in a dpmoniar Tcace^ ^aiuag wAb

tben be swore a tcnrible oadb, wUcb I do not <^oooe u»

set down, tbat, "if befanndheragainnsnch iiyiif^

TD^ity be woold cot Imt tbnot, and fiag Wr totbc:

dop."

Poor Tibby waa ortonnded beyond tbe fo««ro^ni^
teranoe^ or even of lising Inani dw plaoe wbcn be bad
thrown ber down, nntil hbgd by two of tbe
Tsnts, who tried to comfort ber aa tbey anpfMMted

k2

226 THE SaEPHEED*8 CALBSDAR.

part 9i tke wiy lione ; and billcdj ^A they Uame
dbeir mBtery nfiiif h wwild iMiTe boen adMooe to any
ane, wlio had the fedm^sof miMBytodosiichanact;
hut «s for thek maeter, he acaicdy had the foeiingB of
a hciBt. Tihhy aevcr opened hv month, n^thor- to
hlame, nor complain, hot vent on her way crying till
her heart was like to break*

She had no sapper for the old famishing pair that
night. They had tasted nothk^ from the time that
ihe kit them in the momn^; and as she had accoont-
ed hBra^sare of leoaTing something firom Mrs Forret
Aat ni^it» she had not asked her day s wages from the
grioTe^ gbd to lei a day ran np now and then, when
aUe to procure a meal in any other honest way. She
had nothing to give them that night, so what conld she
do? She was obliged, with a sore heart, to kiss them
and tell them so ; and then, as was h^ cnstoiii, she
said a prayer over th^ oondn and laid herself down
to sleep, drowned in tears.

She had never so much as mentioned Mr Foiret's
name either to her grandmother or gvsiid-^mnt that
nighty or by the least insinnation given them to under-
stand that he had used her ill ; but no sooner were they
composed to rest, and all the cottage quiet, than old
Douglas b^an abvusing him with great vehemence. Tib-
by, to her astonishment, heard some of his deeds spokien
of with great familiarity, which she was sure never had

1i6Qi' wiriflpered

her most of iy,WMtiiefoIlowMgn nail

« ii% ttm ra B» fleek, te^ rn

igalA befond tke wm* o' chb

live to flee it ^--w, a^, sIkII

voice asked— » Whit wiU jAe see, kofiBr— ^ isWl

see the dmwfl pkknig faii Woes at ^ Wck • ike JfittJ*

Tihh7*8 hi
dni terrible
hygooftif she had

^uttne sopciioi niafigcM
aboTe sentence repeated
eatVy uiat flheinight
inidriiiarB io the
into a Irodbied tleep.

the

stry of dmmBy were baajr at

tugnt n the eotta^ of

deewiiee of

eeiskm. One «dy af theee dtijafarint IthaB hg»

set down, ptecjwljr at k vat vfkif\d ta aMv hf aif

tnena toe woriay twtgywttA at taat panaiy ta

Tihbytolditdii

her grand^amfgditjoiated ptapheey laiawd At |faaad

woik of ^ pictore ; hat be dnt at it flMf , thai wae her

Mr Fmnm. Ij'i, ■iifc—i ii» 1^ wtth

had m liegf on, irinck wfftand Mkewkie
t^beanr, aadfikipnim. A great KiiBriier of rooks
hooded ciOTB were watidmghre witii fab peraoii ;
I piciao|^ OHt faii cye% soiBe Ub toBgiie» and some
teanagostUBbofwria. In place of being dfiatreaaed by
their randtyf be appeared mnch dehghted, eneonra-
giag theiD all that he conld, and there was a perfectly
good understanding between the parties. In the midst
of this horriUe feast, a laige layen-dashed down :firom
a daxk ehmd^ and^ driving away all the meaner birds,
fell a*faastiDg himself ^--4>pened the breast of his victim,
who was still ali¥e» and eneonraging him on ; and after
preying on his vitals for some time, at last picked ont
his heart, and devoured it; and then the mangled wretch,
after writhing for a short time in convulsive agonies,
groaned his last.

XmBY HYSLOP'S IIBBAM. ' 229

This waa piedsely Hbby s dream as it was told tv
Boe, first by my friend Mr Cunmngfaam of Dalswintoiiy

and afterwarda bythedexgymanto whomaheheraelf had
rqlated it next day. Bat there was something in it noc
so diatiagtly defined ; for thongfa the birds which she wtm
doTOWiDg her master, wen rooks, blood-crows, and a
raven, stiU each ladiTidiial of the number had a Ukeneas,
by itself, distingniidiiog it from all the rest ; a certain
character, as it werey to support ; and these particular
likeneases were so engraven on the dreamer's mind, that
shane^er fivgot them, and she could not help looking
f(Hr them both among ^ birds and bodies," as she ex*
pressed it, •but mever could distinguish any of them
again ; and the dream, like many other distempered
visions, was forgotten, or only remembered now and
then with a certain tremor of antecedent knowledge.

Days* and seasons passed over, and with them the
changes incident to humanity. The virtuous and inde*
firt^iaUe Tibby Hyslc^ was assisted by the benevotenl^
who had heard of her exertions and patient sufferings $
and the veneraUe Douglas Hervey had gone in peace
to the house appointed for all living, idien one evening
in June, John Jardine, the cooper, chanced to come to
Knowe-back, in the course of his girding and hooping
poregrinaticms. John was a living and walking chroni-
cle of the events of the day, all the way from the head
of Glen-Breck to the bridge of Stony-Lee. He knew

fSO THB SHSPKBRO'a OALVNOJOL

efiny man^ and ereiy mm 0 affidn— «fv«ry womas^ and
ervy wcNuan a fiuUngB ; and his inteUigence waa not
like that ai many others, for it was generally to be de^
pittded on. How he got his informstion so cocrectfyy
vas a mystery to many, hat whateTer John the cooper
tdd as a fact, was never disputed, and any woman* 1^
latet, might have Tentored to tell it over again.

<< These are hard times for poor folks, Tihhy^ How
ar6t yon and auld granny coming on ?"

** Just fighting on as we hae done for mony a yea&
She is aye contentit, poor body, and thankfn', whetfaor
line little to gie her, or muckle. This life's naething
hnt a fight, Johnnie, fi»e beginning to end."
^ •.-;<< It's a' tme ye say, Tibby,^ said the cooperj aitei^
tnpting her, for he was afraid she was about to enter
i^on religions topics, a species of conTersation llmt did
not accord with John's talents or dispositions ; ^< Itfs a'
trtte ye say, Tibby ; but yonr master will soon .te sic
A rich ma^ now, that we'll a' be made np, abd yon
flmaUg the lave will be made a lady."
^ ' << If he get his riches honestly, and the blessing o' the
Ahnighty wi' them, Jc^m, I shall rejoice in hia prosperi-
ty ; but neither me nor ony ither poor body will erer
ba muokle the better o* them. What way is he gann
ifr^tskcan great riches? If a' be tme that I hear,
lie is gann to the wximg part to seek them." ^

<' Ahd, lass, that's a' that ye ken about it. Did ye

TIBBT HTSLOP'S DRELIHr ' 231'

iioJiearliiRtlie bad wan ihe law^plea on his fadrd, whilk
hasbaen afinre the Lords for mair than seven years?
And iikl ye no bear that he had wmi ten pleas afoce the
omots o' DvmfirieSy a' rising out o' ane anither, like ash
gh^awngs out o' ae root, and that he's to get, on the
bttU^aiMQt twenty thousand punds worth o' damages P*^:

<< Thatfs an unco sight o' siller, John. How mucUe'
isthat?^

'' Aha, lass, ye hae fixed me now ; hut they say it
will\come to as muckle gowd as six men can carry on
thdr backs. And we're a' to get twenties, and tlrnliai,
andiorties o* punds for bribes, to gar us gie Mthfu' and
true evidence at the great concUiding t;rial afore tiM
LeMb ; and you are to be bribit amang the rest, to gar
ye^ell the haill truth, and nothing but the truth*" :;.

^« lliere needs nae wi^te o' siller to gar me do thaiL
Buty Johnnie, I wad like to ken whether that mode o'
taking oaths,--*-solenm and saucred oaths,-— about the
miseBable trash o' this warld, be according to the tenor
o' Gospel revelation, and the third o' the Commands ?"

<< Aha, lass, ye hae fixed me now! That's rather
akittle pomt; but I believe it's a' true that ye say.
However, yell get the offer of a great bribe in a few
days ; and take ye my advice, Tibby — Get hand o' the
bribe afore hand ; for if ye lippen to your master's pro-
mises, you wiU never finger a bodle after the job's done."

« Fm but a poor simple body, Jolmnie, and canna

oay Mccaa ihoigs. But I ilnlliieediiieliietot
ffg me tell ike tmtiiy and I wiima teU an anmilh iox a*
■J naster • estate, and bk sax backfn's o' gowd into the
baigain. If the sin o* the son], Johnnie '*

*^ Ay, ay, that's rery tnie, TThby, Tery trney iadeed»
abcNit the sin o* the sool ! Bnt as ye wefe saying about
beb^ a simple body — ^Wbat wad ye think if I were to
cast up that day Gledging Gibby came here to gie yon.
yovr lesson — I could maybe help you on a wee bil—
What -wad yon gie me if I did ?*'

^ Alack, I hae naething to gie you but my bleising ;
hai I shall piay tor the blessing o' God on ye.*'

^ Ay, ay, as ye say« I daresay there might be wanr
dnBgB. But could you think o' naething else to gie a
body wha likes as weel to be paid aff-hand as to gie
credit? That's the rery thing Tm cautioning you
against."

^ I dmna expect ony siller fine that fountain-heady
Johnnie : It is a dry ane to the puir and the needyy ai^d
an unco sma' matter wad gar me make over my righta
to a pose that I bae neither faith nor hope in. But ye re
kenn*d for an auld-faixant man ; if ye can bring a little
lumeatly my way, I sail gie you the half o't ; for weej^
I ken it will never come by ony art or shift o' mine."

^^ Ay, ay, that's spoken like a sensible and reasonable
woman, Tibby Hyslop, as ye are and hae always beeuu.
But think you that nae way could be contrived" — and

TIBBy HYSLOP^S DREAM. 283

iMre tile eooper gave two winks widi his left eye-^^ by
the wliilk ye <50ii]d gie me it a', and yet no rob yonneU
ofuftrthing?''

<< Nay na, Jobinie Jardine, that's clean aboon my
eoml^liension s But ye're a canning dnnglity man,
and I leave the haill matter to your goidance."

^ Very weel,Tibby, very weel. TU try to ca' a gayan
sabaluitial gird round your success, if I can hit the
widdi o' the chance, and the girth o* the gear. Gude
day to you the day ; and think about the plan o' equal-
aqud that I spake oV

• Old maids are in general rery easily courted, and
reryaptto take ahint. I have, indeed, known a great
many instances in which ^ey took hints rery seriously,
before ever they were given. Not so with Tibby Hys-
lop. So heavy a charge had lain upon her the grsater
part of her life, that i^ had never turned her thoughts
toany earthly thing beside, and she knew no more what
the eo<^>er aimed at, than if the words had not been
spoken. When he went away, her grandmodier called
her to the bedside, and asked if the cooper had gone
away. Tibby answered in the affirmative ; on which
gnomy sad, << What has he been havering about sae
lang the day? *l thought I heard him courting ye.'*

<< Courting me I Dear granny, he was courting nane
e' me ; he was telling me how Mr Forret had won as

234 THE SUJBPHfiWS CALBNOAA.

mnckle siller «t the law as sax men can canry on ih^;
backs, and how we are a' to get a part of it«". >,. i,

" Dinna believe him, hinny ; the man ^t can .ifin
siller at the law, will lose it naewhere. But, Tibby, I
heard the co<^r courting yon, and I thought I hm^
you gie him your consent to manage the mattfor a^hQ
likit. Now you hae been a great blessing to me* < I
thought you sent to me in wrath, as a puniidbment of
my sins, but I hare found that you were indeed sent to
me in love and in kindness. You have been die so]f
support of my old age, and of hen wha is now iti tbo
grave, and it is natural that I should like to see yoii>pnt
up afore I leave you. But, Tibby Hysk^ Johi^. JE|^
dine is not the man to lead a Chriatian life witb« i^He
has nae mair religion than the beasts that perish, ijihfl
shuns it as a body would do a loathsome <m; p<inoik^
draught : And besides, it is weel knm'd Jhow s^ifih^
neglected his first wife. Hae naething todpi-nri'^t^jiyil
my dear -bairn, but rather live as you are. w^Eherf Js
MHtha: sin mx shame in being unwedded i\ bn| |)|#sa
nu^ be baith in joining yourself to an unheUev«r<"njiii

TU>by was somewhat astonished at this piece o€ jur
temation. She had not conceived that the.coc^^
meant any tUng in the way of courtship; but fennd
that she rather thought the better of him for what it ij^
pi0lu*ed he had done. Accordingly she made via. pro-
toise^ to her grandmother, but only remarked,. ijmi ^it

TiBBV htslof's dkram, 236

was a pity im to gie lAm cooper • chance o* coBFeniiN^
honeet man."

Thd'OMper kept watch about Dnimlochie and the
Inndi' hmmami and easily found out all the fanner'a
mownenaii and even the exact remunefation he ooold
he prenAed on to give to such as were pleased to re-
member according to hia wishes. Indeed it was Ikh
liered that ik» most part of the hinds and laboaring
peo^ereooUeeted nothing of the matter in dispute £uy
ther dian he was pleased to inform them^ and that in
liMl they gave evidoioe to the best of their knowledge
ortepiembrance, although that evidence mi^t be der
ddet^ wro^«

»' One day €ribby took his gun, and went out towarda
Hliioww backr Theoooper also^ guessing what his puvH
p9mr^¥fBBi went thither by a circuitous ronte» in order
P^ obme in as it were by chance. Ere he arrived^ Mr
¥%i^t had begun hia^pieries and instructions to Tibby«
ni^TbMwo eemid not agree by any means ; Tibby either
eidM BJS« nBCoUect the yearly crops on each field on the
farm of' Dramlochie, or recollected wrong. At lengthi
vAuk the qalcnlatiops wore nt the keenest, the cooper
Ijatne in^ and at every torn he took Mr Ferret's sid^
Witk (the most strenuous asseverations, abusing Tibby
£^ her. stupidity and want of recollection.

oitf Hear me speak, Johnnie. Jardine^ afore ye^qoodof^w^
mm idUoofi Mir Forrat>sfiys that the Qr^iqked Vifi^

m «

ltyf|Mjt
tke97. INnt

? aii wilt cMd M^d h 4o

and I yield diat it is aae. B«l I am sttre, Jofao, yw
iBBWlliwiiuMtaAertlBB Me aharl while syney'^
dkure wT «i dal lw'8t^--W«s the lug field iiMBt Rolne
JdmBtwn'g finn givwii^ com in ^ dear y^ar, or no?
laayhwas."

<< It was the iwzt year, l^lyy,'' sakl Mr FoRi^ ;'<^fiMi
are confoimdiiig one year with another again ; and I saa
what is the reason. It was oats in 99, grass in 1800^
and oats again in 1801 ; now you nerer remember any
of the intermediate years, bnt only Uiose that yon shore
on these fields. I cannot be mistaken m a mle I nerer
break."

The cooper had now got his cue. He perceived that
the plea ultimately depended on proof relating to the
proper cropping of the land throughout the lease ; and

TIBBY HY^LOP'^ DREAM. 2C37

he supported the fanner ao astnamamiyf thai IiUij^ m
her aunplicity, fairly yielded, although jmm, eMraKJud^
iniijkhe cooper aafured the Cumcr that he voaM ffltt t^
to nghtfl, pioYided she zeceired a hmttdmrnut mdkMMnr^
ledgment; for there waa Bot the leaat doaU tktt Jfr
Forret vaa ngfat in every partacakr*

This ^eech of the cooper a gratified she ianaer r^
oeedingly, aa hie whole fialit mnr dtytaAid m^m^ rkit
endenee to be eliated ib the court at l>mmUwk, 4m *
day that waa hmi approaching and he waa wilhi^g w
gm any thing to aecore the eiideBce am hm aide; m
he made a loi^ aet ipeedi to XUy, trfftug hw hnw
necessary it was that she ahovld adliew afenctijr v^ tkm
tmtli — that,a8itwonldbeanawfnlilaa|gttf»Mali4;4«ab
to that whidi waa £ilae^ he had wmenskf |aad hir thai
▼iah to inatmct her mnemhcaace a little in that vUdk
was die tnithy it being inipoaBUe, on accenit id* his Joa-
tings, that he conld be mitfakm ; and finally it wnaaea^
^ed^ that for thos tdlii^ the tmthy and nolhiaf tet the
•ttnthy Tibfay Hydop^ a moat dcaetting woaHn» waa %I0
leoeiTtt a preaent of Xla, aa wa^ea ifn tuae Ijgfme*
Tfaia waa all managed in a Tcry aly laaaniir by the
caopcr, who asaored Forret dnt all ihowld go f^ht^ aa
far as related to Tibby Hyalop and Imnif4fi

Hie day of the trial arrired, and connsel attended
hfjm Edinbnrg^ for both partiesy to take 6dl eridcace
before the two CireaitLordaandSaieiifl^ Iheerideiiee

238 THE shepherd's calendar.

was Btid i» hvve been URBatiafacSiMry to the Judg^hut
upon tbe whole ia Mr Forrei's favoiir. • TbecM^paf's
was decidedly 8O9 and the fanner's counsel, were- crgir-
ing and bustling immoderately, when at length Tibby
Hysk^ was called to the witaeeses' boac- Attl»ifirst
sight of her master's coansel^ and the Damfries writers
and* notaries that wera hangiog dnrnt him, Hbby was
stniek dnmb with amazement, and almost bereavad of
sense. She at once recognised them, all and seTaraHy,
as tbe birds that ^e saw, in her dream, devouring her
master, and picking the flesh from his bones i;twfaile
the great lawyer from Edinburgh was, in feasors^' eye,
and beak, the identical raven which at last devoued
his vitals and heart*

This singular coincidence brought reminiscenoesof
such a nature over her spirit, that, on the first questions
being put, she could not answer a wordk She knew
from thenceforward that her master was a ruined man,
and her heart failed, on thinking of her kind mistress
and his family. The counsel then went, and whisper-
ing Mr Forret, inquired what sort of a woman she was,
and if her evidence was likely to be of any avail. As
the cooper had braved in a very satisfactory way, and
had answered for Tibby, the fanner was intent on not
losing her evidence, and answered his counsel that she
was a worthy honest woman, who would not swear to
a lie for the king's dominions, and that her evidence

' vmav 'HYSLOi^s dream. 2S9

^MMT «fittiiidb TctmaetfUKifee. , This iatdHgeace tkte law-
ytfl'CBiimtiiced to tiie bench with gi«at pompoeity, and
the witaeM wne tliowed a little time to recorer her

^i-^UAdh Hyak>p, tpiaster, was again called, answer-
^'trher nmie» and took the oath distinctly^ and with-
out hesitation, until the official querist came to the
uitifll^fttMtion, ** Now, has anyone instructed you what
«^*ear)r,'i>ridbat you are to answer ?" when Tibby re-
plied^ with a steady countenance, *^ Nobody, except my
'Mteter.-' -The counsel and client stared at one aaodier,
^iHukf the Court could hardly maintain their grayity of
deportment* The querist went on-*-

" What ? Do you say your master inatmcted you
' wifHts to asy ?*'

' ti^fi Attd did he give, or promise to give yon, any re-
vard for what you were to say ?**

> -^ How much did he give, or promise you, for answer-
ing ai^'lie directed yon ?**
. , <<- He gave me fifteen pound-notes."

Here Mr Forret and his counsel, losing all patience
•St aeemg the case take this imexpected turn, intorupt-
ed the proceedings, the latter addressing the Judges,
with yehemence, to the following purport :-—

<< My Lords, in my client's name, and in the names

^lAA TH& ^BKBHSBOft AA^MHBARb

lit jwrtini' lOT TT—nt I f^^T'^ ifMnrifiifiiiiiMin^Tntr

laloBg tlawigji a toul deffi»g<tnl> of iBteU«el» At
first Ask A—ih^aaAc— wt— wiraaryokawofd,
•■A »»y ske k ■■■■ iiik§ ia teiai iJiffMii ef A Wmk
lad profnelj* 1 Wffmi tm ymut Lnrikfcipe if taek'a
fvngo M liik can be ad all iafamtkl or releiWBt ?**

^ Sk» k WM kal iks atker ■danta^'' aakl tka- jihimn'
Jadge^ ^ tkat yoa aaaoanced to as with greal^ iaipod^
aaccv that tlik mwaaa was a pwooa aaled far konarty
aad wartln and aaa wka woaU nal teU a He iw^lfae
Idflg • doiaiainni Wky aoc ikem kav ker evidfatfrta
the end ? For lajr owa party I peraive no tehoaajf
diaoippBiity iait» bal TBtker a acnpakNM ootncMnCiiyaa-

ness. Of that»howeTQr9 we shall be better aUe to j^ril^
when we have heard her oat. I c<»ceifa tha|^ f orlkb
sake of both partieB» this woman aagkl to ba akrie^
examined.** ■ «

** Proceed with the eTidence^ Mr Wood," aaid the
senior Lord» bowing to hk aasktant.

Tibby was reminded that she was on her gieat^aathy
and examined oYer again ; but she adhered etrictly to
her f<nmer.anBiY)K8.

^< Can yon repeat any thing to the Court Uwt he cb»
sired yon to say ?"

<' Yes 4 he desired me, over and oyer again> to teU
the whole troth, and nothing but the troth/'

down fifteen pomdi sterling ?**
« Yefc"

, ^^TUiiiaTeryMngdartiiaMetioii: I cannot per-
cem 4^ meininy of it. Yon eertabty matt be eenM-
ble tbet yem node an adnatagieooi bngain ?*

** Safe. yen depone dnt be charged yem to ieO onJy
tboimth?**

H Xmy he didy and before witnenwa, too."

liefa lifr Focret'a connael began to erwir aaMtn, m
if the Yictory had been his own ; bvt the juior Jndfre
a§iin|ook hhn ahort by aaying, ^ Hare patience, Mr. —
My good woman, I eateem yov princtplee and plain
iiiiifiiiiiljr fery lugfaly. We want only to aaeertain th«*
tmh^ and yon aay yonr master charged yon to tell
thaAenlyi Tell me tins, then did he not inform yon
what the truth was ?**

<< Yea. It was for diat purpose be came orer to mse
me, to help my memory to indiat was the tntdi, for fear
I should hae sworn wiang; which wad hae been a great
sm, ye koB***

<< Yes, it would so. I thought that would be the
way^^You may now proceed widi yonr questions re-
gakrly, Mr Wood."

<< Are you quite conscious, now, that those things

VOL* I. I.

242 THE 6H£PU£IU>'S GAL8NDAR.

he brought to your remembrance were actually the
truth ?"

« No."

<' Are you conscious they were not the truth?"

<< Yes ; at least some of them, I am sure, were up^"

" Please to condescend on one instance."

<^ He says he has it markit in his buik, that the
Crookit Houm, that lies at the back o* the wood, ye
ken, grew pease in the ninety-sax, and com in. the
ninety-se'en ; now, it is imco queer that he should hae
settin't down wrang, for the Houm was really and truly
aits baith the years."

<' It is a long time since ; perhaps your memory may
be at fault."

<< If my master had not chanced to mention it, I cojt^d
not have been sure, but he set me a-calculating and.com-
paring ; and my mother and me hare been consiiilting
about it, and have fairly settled it."

^' And are you absolutely positive i^ was oat^ both
years ?"

"Yes."

" Can you mention any circimistance on which you
i;e8t your conclusions ?"

" Yes ; there came a great wind ae Sabbath day» in
the ninety-sax, and that raised the shearers' wages» at
Dumfries, to three sfullings the day. We began to the
Crookit Houm on a Monanday's morning, at three

TlBttT HT8(«OP*8 DREAM. 243

aliilliiig^ »-day, dad thst Teiy day twalmoiitb, we be-
gan till't again at tenpence. We had a gude deal o'
speaking about it, and I said to John Edie, < What need
we gmnible ? I made sae mnckle at shearing, the last
yehr, that iVa no a' done yet.' And he said, < Ah, Tibby,
Tibby, but wha can hain like yon ?' "
' *^ Were tiiere any others that yon think your master
had marked down wrong ?"

<< There was ane, at ony rate — the lang field niest
Robie Jidmston's march : He says h was dorer in the
dronthy dear year, and aits the neist ; but that's a year
I canna forget ; it was aits baith years. I lost a week s
Clearing on it the first year, waiting on my aunty, and
the niest year she was dead ; and I shore the lang field
lAlbtft Robie Johnston's wi' her sickle-heuk, and black
ribbons on my mutch."

'The-tvhole of Tibb/s evidence went against Mr
Ferret's interest most conclusively, and ^e Judges at
last (fismissed her, with high compliments on her truth
and integrity. The cause was again remitted to the
Court of Session for revisal after this evidence taken ;
imd the word spread over all the country that Mr For-
ret had won. Tibby never contradicted this, nor dis-
puted it ; but she was thorou^ly convinced, that in
place o^ winning, he would be a ruined man.

About a month affco* the examination at Dumfries,
he received a letter from his agents in Edinburgh, buoy-

SM THs sHsrano's isAuam^fc

ing him 1^ witli iK^Mft of graal ladiBttaiii jvccot,-^^
urging tW ntilitjr of his presence in Wwn. at ifae £m^
dedaion of the cause on which all ihe minor enea lee^
ed* Accordingly he eqnyped hiroaeif» and yodeiiH^
Dnmfries in the evening, to he ready to proceed, by iba<
mail the following momingy saying to hia wife* 9i»i»
went away, that he would send home his mne with tbct
carrier, and that as he could not possibly name the. dnrir.
on which he would he home, she was to give heiself hch
uneasiness. The mare was returned the following nighty
and put up in her own stall, nobody knew by whMBif;.
but servants are such sle^y, careless fellows^ ihat faWa
regarded the circumstance. This was on a Xne^^da^^
night* A whole week passed over, and stiU Mss, £01^^
retxeceived no news of h^ husband,, which, keptvbevi
very uneasy, as their whole fortune, beings and8ubf¥V»lT»
enc^ now depended on the issue of this. great la.W)-9n^>
ami she suspected that the case still c4>ntimie44iitMHi9>rv
- or jras fpund to be going against him. ; . ... ., :.tu^
A more unhappy result followed than thal^ ahff w4iiTF
cipated. On the arrival of the Edinburgh pigpens ii«M.
week, the whole case, so important to farmers, was dtrs^
tailed ; and it was there stated, that the great banaaeir..
and improver, Mr Forret of Drumlocbie, had not on)^
forfeited his whole fortune by improper husbandry, and'
mamfes]^ breaches of the conditions on which he held
his kaae^ bnt that criminal letteics had been, issued

iigiiiMit hSm fdr attempts t» pervert justice, and rewards
^jfttfcrfibi^hiB detealxoH or seisure. This was terrible
aewi frnF^tne'taankj at Dnimlochie ; but there were still
fMi^^iBiie lidpe»eiitert«iiied that ^e circimistaiioee were
tAtMUiAi or, if the worst should prove tme, that per^
liii|MKthB*hit8baad and fiBKther might make his escape ;
and a» there Was no word from him day after day, this
latter'^aentiitteiit began to be cherished by the whole
fsmilr as thesr only remaining and forioni hope.

''B«l otte day, as poor Tibby Hysl<^ was going over
to^tlte^'Cait Linn, to gather a burden of sticks for fire-
WOdd, 'she was surprised, on looking over the dike, to
8«^%^great body of crows collected, all of which w^e
ao^'iateiit' on- their prey, that Uiey seemed scarcely to
rtlgkrd her preseace as a sufficient cause for their de-
HDitlag*^" she waved her burden-rope at them over the
dflttt^iAfl'theyTeiused to move. Her Hieart neariy fail-
ed^her/^ftirf^ remembered of having before seen the
same scene, with some fearful concomitants. But ptire
-vM^tto/kkpked religion, the first principleof which teach-
eil^^firaii reiiance on divine protection, can give cou-
rag^ to the weakest of human beings. Tibby climbed
oVifr #te dike, di^ove the vermin away, and there lay the
c#ifseof her late unfortunate master, wofully mangled
bytliese voracious bn*ds of prey. He had bled himself
t6 death in the jugular vein, was lying without the hat,
and clothed in a fine newblack suit of clothes, top-boots.

246 THB SHEPHKBD'g CiUdEMDAR.

which appeared likewise to be new, and gilt spun ;
and the place where he lay was a little three-cornered
sequestered spot, between the dike and the precipice,
and inaccessible by any oth^ way than throng the
field. It was a spot that Tibby had never seen before.

A letter was found in Mr Forret*s pocket, which
had blasted all his hopes, and driven him to utter dis-
traction; he had received it at Dumfries, returned
home, and put up his mare carefully in the stable, but
not having courage to fece his ruined family, he had
hurried to that sequestered spot, and perpetrated the
deed bf self-destruction.

The only thing more I have to add is, that the Lord
President, having made the remaric that he paid ittore
regard to that poor woman, Isabella Hyslop's evidence,
than to all the rest elicited at Dumfries, the gainers of
the gretLt plea became sensible that it was |»incipally
in consequence of faer candour and invincible verafcity
that they were successful, and sent her a present of
twenty pounds. She was living comfortably at Knbtre-
back when I saw her, a contented and happy old maid-
en.

MARY BURNBT. 247

I )

CHAPTER IX.

, . MARY BURNET.

■ *

. Th^ foUowipg incidents are related as having oc-
ean^ At a shepherd's house, not a hundred miles from
St Mary's Loch ; hut, as the descendants of one of the
ffuniUeB still reside in the yicinity, I deem it requisite
to. ;9S^ names which cannot he recognised, save hy those
^(iphaye heard the story.
. Jiphn AUanson, the farmer s son of Inverlawn, was

» ji( Jhy^dsoine, roving, and incautious young man, enthu-
sii|S^ amorous, and fond of adventure, and one who

■ eoffdd hardly be said, to fear the face of either man, wo-
99^f ^T. spirit* Among other love adventures, he fell
»^urting Mary Burnet, of Kirkstyle, a most beautiful
and innocent maiden, and one who had been bred up
in rural simplicity. She loved him, but yet she was
afraid of him ; and though she had no objection to meet-
ing with him among others, yet she carefrdly avoided
meeting him alone, though often and earnestly urged
tp it. One day, the yoimg man, finding an opportuni-

248 THE shepherd's caixndar.

ty, at Our Lady's Chapel, after mass, urged kis Miit
for a private meeting so ardently, and with so mittf
vows of loTe and sacred esteem, that Mary was aft ftil^
won, as to promise, that perhaps she would €<Miie al(d
meet him.'

The trysting place was a little green se^esteMI
spot, on the very verge of the lake, well knownio micaf
an angler, and to none better than the writer of 1^ 6l§
tale ; and the hour appointed, the time when the KMj^if
Elwand (now fooKshly termed the Bdt of Oriofj^iiet
his fir^ gi^den knob above the hiH. Allanson canlirfM
esrly; and he watched the sky with stveh eBgeafAia^
and devotion, that he thought every little litar tliat fihCief
ia the touth-east the top knob of the King's Ehrftifdr
At last the Elwand did arise in good eiinilsst, tCOd'lMft
the youths with a heart palpitating with agi«erti<m, M^
nothing for it but to watch the heatheiybrow hj if^jSSk''
bonny Mary Burnet was to descend. No Mary ^B^^
net made her appearance, even although tfa\e King% !Eli>
wand had now measured its own equivodJ lengfSti^M^
or six times up the lift. - v- -»u«

Young Allanson now felt all the most poignant i&&'
series of disappointment ; and, as the story gbes, utCiit^*
ed in his heart an imhallowed wish — ^he wished Ihi^
some witch or fairy would influence his Mary to come
to Mm in spite of her maidenly scruples. This tmh
waa thrice repeated with all the energy of disappointed-

XARY BUBKST* 849

hm^ It wm ibiee repeated, and no iihm«, when, be-
IwWtMaiy iqppeared OB Ae brae, whh wild and eccen-
t^ aaoliMM^ apeeding tor ^be appointed place* AUan-
9Btt,^«iekeiiieBi seems to have been more than he was
able to bear, as he instantly became delirious with joy,
ami alxays processed that he ooidd remember nothing
eijtmxJbai aoeetittg', saye that Mary remained nlent^
and jyeha not a word, nmther good nor bad. in a
ahm^ tame she fell a-sobbing and weeping, refusing to
baireoHifsrted^ .and then, uttering a piercing shriek,
s|HQn§^ 1^ and ran from him with amawwg speed*
jidAjLthis part of the loch, which, as I said, is well
l(|K>«qii to- manyj the shore is oyerhuag by.&preeipit<*
ofA^tiiS^ of no great height, but stiill inaccesaibley either
fefnaa abc^re .,01; below*- Save in a great drought, the
wiy^ .oo^^aea to within a yard of the bottom of this
€)iiQ^4in4 the intermediate space is filled with rougbnn*
shiyji^y {Maces of rock fallen from above* Along this'
B^fRfqwandrnde' ^>aee, hardly passable by the angler
ai^.f«K«)y did Mary bound with the swiftness of a kid,
aldiough surroimded with darkness. Her lover, pur*-
sufpg.ii^th all his energy, called out, << Mary I Mary !
my^.d^ Mary, stop and speak with me* TU conduct
yqn. home, or anywhere you please, but do not run from
m(^ 3top9 my dearest Mary-*-«top I"

j^fyry. would not stop ; hut ran on, till, e<Hning.^ a
Utitl^.jdiff that juUed into^^ lake^ rou^d which <theiie

l2

250 THE shepherd's calendar.

wad no passage, and, perceiving that lier lover would
thero overtake her, she uttered another shriek, and
plunged into the lake* The loud soond of her fall ith
to the still water rung in the young man's ears lik«the
knell of death ; and if before he was erased with love,
he was now as much so with despair. He saw her
floating' lighdy away from the shore towards the deep-
est part of the loch ; but, in a 8h(»t time, she began to
sink, and gradually disappeared, without uttering a
throb or a cry. A good while jN^vious to thk, Allan-
son had flung oS his bonnet, shoes, and coat, and plun-
ged in* He swam to the place where Mary disafipeer-
ed; but there was neither boil nor gurgle en the- water,
nor ev)^ a bell of departing breath, to mark the place
wh»« his beloved had sunk. Being stnuigely impressed,
at ^hat trying moment, with a detenoaiaation to Jive or die
with her, he tried to dive, in hopes either to bring her up
•i- to die in her arms ; and he thought i>f their being so
found on the shore of the lake, with a melancholy sa-
tisfaction ; but by no efibrt of his could he reach the
bottom, nor knew he what distance he was still from
it With an exhausted frame, and « despairing heart,
he was obliged again to seek the shore, and, dripping
wet as he wjts, and half naked, he ran to her father's
house with the wofol ^ings. Every thing there was
quiet. The old shepherd e family, a£ whom Mary was
the youngest, and sole daughter, w^e all sunk in silent

MARY BURNBT* 251

lepoee; and (A kom the distivcted lover wept at ^e
thonghtuflf wakenkig thoa to hear the dolefol tidings !
BttftiWakintlMM he must ; so, going to the little win-
dov doae hy the goodman's bed, he called* in a me-
lancMy toDe, <^ Andrew ! Andrew Bumety are you
wakiig?''

7 ^ Troths man, J think I he: or, at least, I'm half-
amUialL What haat thoa to say to auld Andrew Bvr*
net ot^HB Snne o' night?"

*/Aie you waking, I say ?"
.ciVfGadewife^am I waking? Because if I be, tell that
aitanriBg!^ sae* Hell maybe tak your word for it, for
urine he wiana tak."

u ^i O' 'Andrews wmi^ of your hnmour to-night ; — ^I
hfingiyon tidings ^le most wofiil, tibe most dismal, the
moat heart^nndingr that ever were brovght to an honest
iBflA*^ daor."

. • ' !^: To his window, yon mean," cried Andrew, bolting
out of bed, and proceeding to the door. << Gude sauff
ufa^ inan^ eome in, whaerer you be, and tell us your
tidinga hce to fiice; and then we'll can better judge
ai the tnilli of them. If Uiey be in conccvd wi* your
•TiMoey they are melancholy indeed. Have the rearers
oome^ and are our kye driven ?"

^ Oh^ alaal waur than that-— a thousand times waur
than that I Your daughter— >yoar dear beloved and on-
ly dau§^iter, Mary—"

262 THE SHEROBRD's OAUSSSnyAB,.

f< What of Maiy ?'' cried the goodnan. «« WlM idf '
Mary ?" cried her mother, sfandderiog and ^&tBSmg>
with terror ; and at the same time she kindled a H^ti"

The sight of thdr neighbour, half-naked, and dfip
ping with wety and madness and despair in his lok^>
sent a chillness to their hearts, that held them in silenee^' •
and they were unable to utter a woid, till he w«nt <oii <
thua*-<< Mary is gone ; your darling and mine is lost^.
and sleeps this night in a watery gi^Te,«''^4md I hamr^
been her destroyer I"

<^ .Thou art mad, John Allansmi,'' said the old many'
vehemently^ ^^ raying mad ; at least I hope so. Wicked*
as thou art, thou hadst not the heart to kill my dear diddy •
O yeS) you are mad-<— God be thanked, you are mad. 'i
see it in your looks and demeanomr. Heayen be praised^ t
you are mad ! You ore mad ; but youll get better agaol*.
But what do I say ?" continued he, as recoUectiiig faiux'
sel4-« We ow 80OA couTince onr «mii seoses. Wife,
lead the way to our daughter's bedv' - -^^i

With ft ^eiot throbbing with telnor and dismay^ old f
Jeaa Linton led the way to Mary's chamber, followed*^
by the tquro men^ who were eagerly gazing, one i^reit'
each of heif shoulders. Mary's little apartment waa in"
the farther end of the long narrow cottage ; and as soon -
as ^y enttt'ed it, they perceiyed a fcxm lying on the'
bed) with the- bed-clothea drawn oyer its head; and. ^
on the lid of Mary's little chest,, that stood at the

wuAY Bvaesnet, iSS

beiisid^her chubn wiire lyiiig' neatly Mded, as they
w«9iMltt» he«' iHope seemed to dawn <m the faces of
theiifkiiia dd pe«i^ when they beheld this, bnt the
loYflfVi heart sittik stiU deeper in despair. The father
caUbldJiar'naDie^ but the form on the bed returned no
anawm^-howeTory they all heard distinctly sobs, as
of one wveping; The old man then ventored to'puH
down tke dotbea fimn her fiace ; and, strange to say,
thare.lndeed lay Mary Bnmet, drowned in tears, yet
apparently nowise surprised at the ghastly appearance
of tlMitlvee aaked %ares. AOanson gasped for breath,
forh&^x^Bmained still incredulous* He touched her
clo>lifS» "he Hfked her robes one by one,-^-and all of
them irase^yy neat, and clean, and had no appearance
of having sunk in the lake.

Thoie oaa be no doubt that Allanson was confound^'
ed hgrihe strange event that had befallen him^ and feit
like olie struggling with a frightful vision, or some
energy beyond the power of man to comprehend. Ne-
verdieleas^die assurance that Mary was there in life,
we^nng ^though she was, put him once more beside
himself with joy ;> and he kneeled at her bedside, be*-
seeohing permission bnt to kiss^ her hand. She^ how-
evetfy lepulaed him with disdaiD^ ^ying^ with great em-
phans-^^' You are a bad man^ John Allanson^ and I
entreat you to go out of. my sights The sufierings that
J have undergone this night, have been beyond the

THE SHSPHEBD^S CALENDAR.

power of flesh and blood to endure ; and by some etrsed
agracy of yours bare these safferings been brought
about. I therefore pray you, in His namey whose law
you hare transgressed, to depart out of my nf^titJ^^

Whi^y overcome by conflicting passions, by cireim*
stances so contrary to one another, and <so discordant
with erery thing either in the works of Nature ov Pro>-
Tideitce, the young man could do nothing b«t stand
Hke a ^igid statue, with his hands lifted up, and h]S< vi-
sage like that of a corpse, until led away by the t^o

*

old people from their daughter's apartment. Th^y 'Am

lighted up a fire to dry him, and began to question him
with the most intense curiosity ; but th^y conld eBcit
nothkig from him, but the most disjointed exdamatiiBBS
•*-sudi as, <^ Lord in Heaven, what can be the mean-
ing of this r And at other times — *^ It is all the en-
chantment of the devil; the evil spirits have got«do-
mimon over me I"

- Finding they oould make nothing of him, they began
to form conjectures of their own. Jean affinned "teit
it had been the Mermaid of the loch that had come t^
htm in Mary 8 shafie, to allure him to his destnietiea;
but Andtew Burnet, settmg his bonnet to one side^ find
raismg Ins left hand to a level with it, so that h^BUgfat
have full scope to motion and flourish, suiting his action
to his words, thus began^ with a face of si^ience never
to be excelled ^—

BCARY BURNET. 255

.^Gudewifeyil doth Strike me that thou art very wide
of iIm mark* It must have been a spirit of a great deal
higheF <|«ality than a meer-maiden, ^o played this e^t-
tra-diAHiy prank. The meer-maiden is not a spirit,
b«t a beastly senshiye creatnre, with a malicious spirit
widnn it. Now, what influence could a eauld clatch of
a creature like that, wi' a tail like a great saumont-fish,
hae ower our baim, either to make her happy or un-
happf ? .Or where could it borrow her claeB, Jean?
TeU me that. Na, na, Jean Linton> depend on it, the
spint that courtit wi' poor sinfu' Jock there, has been a
Mry y but whether a good ane or an ill- ane, it is hard
to^<determine.*'

' t Andrew's disquintion was interrupted by the young
man falling into a fit of trembling that was fearful to
look at, and threatened soon to terminate his existence.
Jean ran fen* the fiunily cordial, observing, by the way,
that ^ though he was a wicked person, he was still a
fellow^ereature, and might live to repent ;** and influ-
eaeed by diis spark of genuine humanity, she made him
swallow two homHBpoonfals of strong aquavitce. An-
deew then put a piece of scarlet thread round each wrist,
and taking a strong rowan-tree staff in his hand, he con-
veyed his tremUing and astonished guest home, giving
him at parting this sage advice : —

** V\\ tell you what it n, Jock Allanson, — ye hae run
a near risk o' perdition, and, escaping tibat for the pre-

156 THE shepherd's calendar.

KBt» o' kiung ▼«Nir right reafioiu BvttakanaiddiiiHin's
adTice— 4ieTer gang again out Vy nigbt to beguile qw
iMMiest man's daughter, lest a worse thing be£dl ikeeu**
Next morning Mary dressed herself more neatly than
iBiialy but there was manifestly a deep melancholy ael-
tied on her lorely face, and at times the unbidden tear
would start into her eye* She spoke no word, either
good or bad, that erer her moiher could recollect, that
whole morning ; but she once or twice observed hec
daughter gazing at her, as with an intense and meUlii-'
cfaoly interest. About nine o'clock in the mornings shc^
took a hay-raik over her shoulder, and went down to 9i
meadow at the east end of the loch, to coil a part of }ier
Jbther's hay, her father and brother engaging to join her

about noon, when tbey came from the sheep-fold. As

I". ••'

soon as old Andrew came home, his wife and he, as was
natural, instantly began to converse on the events of the
preceding night ; and in the course of their conversation,
Andrew said, << Gudeness be about us, Jean, was^ not
yoii an awfii* speech o' our bairn's to young Jock AllafiL-
son last night?"

• *

<< Ay, it was a downsetter, gudeman, and spoken like
a good Christian lass."

^ I'm no sae sure o' that, Jean Linton. My good
woman, Jean Linton, I'm no sae sure o' that. Yon

. . » ,' ■

speech has gi'en me a great deal o' trouble o' heart ; fon ,
'ye ken, an take my life, — ay, an take your life, Jeap,

257

o' V CM ten wketiier it wn in the Almiglit7*«
m At deviTs, that she diadiH^ her lovw."

*0 ly, Aafoir, hoir can ye say sm ? Hoir can ye
doobt diat it WW in the Aknighty's Bame?"

■* Coakba ahe have said sae then, and that wad hae
pirit it beyond a' donbt ? And that wad hae been the
natani wmy tew ; bnt instead of that, she says, < I pray
yew, in the name of him whose law yon have tranagi'eoo'
edy to'dqiart ont o* my sight.' I confess Tm terrified
when I think ahont yon speech, Jean Linton, Didna
dm say, too» that < her sufferings had been beyond what
ileslk and blood conld have endured ?* What was she
but flesh and blood? Didna that remark infer that she
waa something mair than a mortal creature? JeanLin-
tOBy Jean linton I what will you say, if it should turn
out that onr daughter is drowned, and that yon was the
&iry we had in the house a' the night and this morn*

iDg?"

^ O hand your tongue, Andrew Burnet, and dinna
make my heart cauld within me. We hae aye trusted
in the Lord yet, and he has never forsaken us, nor will
he yet gie ^e Wicked One power ower us or ours.'*

<< Ye say very weel, Jean, and we maim e'en hope for
the best,'' quoth old Andrew ; and away he went, ac-
oompanied by bia son Alexander, to assist their beloved
Mary on the meadow.

No sooner had Andrew set his head over the bents,.

258 THE SHflPHBIUys CALiENDAR.

and eome m vievr of the meadow^ than he said to uwaun)
** I wish Jock Allanson matinna hae been eaalrlihe^Ioch
ishing for geds the day, for I think my Mary Ins anade
very little progress in the meadowJ* : 'h>

<^ She's ow«r muckle ta'en »p abovt other ihings ^ns
while, to mind her wark," said Alexander : << I wadha
wonder, father, if that lassie gangs n black gate ^.^
' Andrew uttered a loDgaad a deepeigh, that seemed to
raffle the very foimtains of life, and^ without speakkig
another word, walked on to the hay field. It was thiee
hman since Mary had left home, and she ought at least
to^ have put np a dozen coils of hay each hour. But,
in: ](^laee of that, she had put up only seven altegethcr,
sod the last was unfinished. Her own hay-raik^ that
had m M and a B neatly cut on the head of it^was
leaning on the unfinished cml^ and Mary wa8> wanting.
Her brother, thinking she had hid herself froonithem in
^port, ran from one coil to aiiother, calling her many
^wd names, playfully ; but, a£ter he had turned them all
up, and several deep swathes besides, she was not to he
foond. This young man, who sl^ in the byre^ knew
nothing of the events of the foregoing nighty the cid
people and Allanson having mutually engaged to 'keep
ikem a profound secret, and he had therefore leea^rea^
■on than his fether to be seriously alarmed. When they
began to work at the hay, Andrew could work none ;
be' looked this way and that way , but in no way oeidd

In Me Mary «ppioacfaiiig : se he pat on his co«t> and
vent mfnyhomBf to pour his sorrows, into the bosom
oCJbb "fiiifoiiaid in the inefuitime» he desired his son to
nin to all the nei^^boBnag farming-bouses and cots,
•very, one^ awl make inqairieB if any body had seen
MiBcy4 :

. JWiiea Andrew went home and informed his wife that
their.darling was missing, the grief and astonishiBent of
l|ie B^ed conple knew no bomids* They sat down, and
wapt together, and declared, OTer and orer, that this act
ef'ProYidence was too strange for them, and too high
tftbe nnderatood* Jean besought hear hnsband to kneel
inrtKntly, and pray urgently to God to restore their
«Uid lia them ; but he declined it, on account of the
wwong (nme ef his mind, for he declared, that his rage
i^aiast John Ailanson was so extreme, as to unfit him
for«ppiQftching the throne of his Maker. <^ But if the
pnptfgatfe refuses to listen to the entreaties of an injured
pennf,'' added he, ^ he shall feel the weight of an in-*
fared father's arm."

':^ iAndrew went straight away to Inverlawn, though

!WiUiout the least hope of finding young Allans<m at

teme; but, oo reaching the place, to his amazement, he

found the young man lying ill of a burning fe^er, ra*

•"mg incessantly of witches, spirits, and Mary Burnet.

To such a height had his frenzy arrived, that when An-

igew went therey it required three men :to li^ld him in

260 THE SHBFHBHD'S OAl/ENDAR.

the bed. Both hk psrenta testified tiles' opinions
Ifi that their son vms bewitched, or poeseased of ar^^
mon, and die whole family was thrown into the gtMkti^
est oonetemetion* The good old i^epheid, tedfai^
eno«gli of grief there already, was obliged to «onfiae
his to his own bosom, and return disconsolate to^I&
little feraily dbrcle, in which there was a wofiil %lank
that' night* -^^^

'-^His'Bon returned also from a frmtless seardk^ No
one- had seen any traces of his sister, but an old eniflBy
woman, at a place called Oxcleuch, eaid that shcr had
seen her go by in a grand chariot with young Jock A!^
laason, toward the Biiidiill Path, and by that time they
were at the Cross of Dumgree. The young man sati4:
he asked her what sort of a chariot it was, as there was
never such a thing in that country aa a chariot, nor yet
a road for one. But she replied that he was widely
mistaken, for that a great number of chariots sometimes
passed that way, though never any of them rettuto^'
Tliese words appearing to be merely the nrrings'bf
superannuation, they were not regarded ; but wheil no' .
other traces of Mary could be found, old Andrew Wenf
up to consult this crazy dame once more, but he W8$
not able to bring any such thing to her recolle^tioni^
She spoke only in parables, which to him were incoitt^
prcfhttisiUe.

. Bdnisry Matry Burnet was lost* She left her ffttber s

Imytft^ at<iiiii6»'elQGk oa a Wedii^aday xnoming, tbei74b
odS^plembtiv JMmlly dressed m a while jerkia and
gya^JieiieV ^th li^ iiay-raik orer iier •boulder ; and
tlw^ nms tbe. 1^ «ight she was- doomed ever to aee of
liMb^nstAve cx^tage* She seemed to have had aoma pee-
ae|ltiraeii^o£ this, as appeared from her demeanour that
majphig befio^^ ahe left it. Mary Burnet of Kirkstyla
was ioaty and great was the sensation prodoeod ovMir
tha wh^ country by the mysterious event. There was
a,'igBg .liallad extant at one period <m the melanohoiy
^fllllptrppher; which was supposed to have been com^
pq9e4-by. the chaplain of St Mary s ; but I have only
h^m^ t^ of Jt, without ever hearing it sung or reeitedtc
ASimy fif th^ verses concluded thus :-^ j

" But Bonny Mary Burnet
f'jv 1" *•' We i^m iw?ter see again."

tJtbf^^^^P^ 300^ got abroad, with all its horrid, cirt.
cuBgffjtyK''es3t,(and there is little doubt that it was grie?^
^^94£.^iPPS&^^^^)^^^ there was no obloquy that waf >
n(^. tj^q^a on the survivor, who certainly in some de^
gi]^ (J^seryed it, fqr, instead of growing better, he graw;
tai^.^i^eB more wicked than he was before. In one^.
th^.tjbe whol^ country agreed, that it had been 1^.
rea\.jy{ary Burnet who was drowned in the lochifai^
that the being which was found in her bed^ lyu)ft.w;^$9^.
ing ^d.poyplaini'ng of aii^e]:^ i^^ wI4$^ JW^(^

t62 THK SIiiSPHeRD*g CALENDAR.

the nexf day, had heem a faiiy, an evil «piitt, or a change*
ling of 8ome sort, foi* that it never spoke save once, and
that in a mysterious manner ; nor did it partake of any
food unth the rest of the fennily. Her father and niO-
ther kiHSW not what to say or what to think, but they
wfBidered lliroogh this weary world like people wlEb-
dering in a dream. Every thing that belonged to Maiy
Burnet was kept by her parents as the most stksted re-
lies, and many a tear did her aged mother shed over
them. Every article of her dress brought the once
comely wearer to mind. Andrew often said, ^* That
to have lost the darling child of their old age in any
way would have been a great trial, but to lose h^rin
the way that they had done, was really mair than Ira-
man fhdlty could endure.''

Many a weary day did he walk by the shores of the
loch,- looking ei^rly for some vestige of her garments,
and though he trembled at every appearance, yet did
he continue to search on; He had a number of small
bones collected, that had belonged to lambs and crthef
minor animals, and, haply, some of them to fishes, from
ft ftmd supposition that they might once have formed
jomts of het toes or fingers. These he kept concealed
in a little bag, in (Mrd^, as he said, ^< to let the doctors
.see them;" But no relic, besides these, could be ever
discover of Mfury's body.

Young Allanson recovered from his raging fever

MARY BUBNST. 863

scarcely in the mimner of other mexh ^or he recovered
all, at . onc€^ after a few days raving and madness. Mary
Bnrn^t,, it appeared, was by ^m no more remembered.
He g[rew ten times more wicked than before, and he-
siti^ed at no means of accomplishing his unhallowed
pnxpoi^. The devout shepherds and cotti^ers around
detested him ; and, both in their families and in the
wil4» when there was no ear to hear but that of Heaven,
they prayed protection from his devices; as if he had
been the Wicked One ; and they all prophesied that
h^ would make a bad end.

. One fine day about the middle of October, when the
day^ b^iD to get very short, and the nights long and
dark, on a Friday morning, the next year but one after
Mary Burnet was lost, a memorable day in the fairy
annalp^-John .Ailanson, younger of Inverlawn, went to
a gi:eat;hinng fair at a village called Moffiit in Anntin-
dfdey.ifL order to hire a housemaid. His character was
so i^ptorions, that not one young woman in the district
HTfi^ld :6erve in his father s house ; so away he went to
the fair, at Moffat, to hire the prettiest and loveliest
girl he could there find, with the intention of ruining
her as soon as she came home. This is no suppositi-
tious .accusation, for he acknowledged his plan to Mr
David Welch of Cariferan, who rode down to the mar*
ket with him^ and seemed to boast of il, and dwell on
it with delight. But the maidens of Annandale had

264 THE shepherd's calendar.

ft guardian angel in the fair that day, of which neither
he nor they were aware.

AUanson looked thrt^h the hiring market,, and
through the hiring market, and at length fixed on one
young woman, whidi indeed was not difficult to do, fpr
there was no such form there for elegance and beftoty.
Mr Welch stood still and eyed him. He took the
beauty aside. She was clothed in green, and as lovely
as a new-blown rose.

" Are you to hire, pretty maiden ?"

"Yes, sir."

<* WU you hire with me ?"

" I care not though I do. But if I hire with yoU| it
must be for the long term."

" Certainly. The longer the better. What are your
wages to be ?"

" You know, if I hire, I must be paid in Jdnd. I
miist have the first living creature that I see about In-
verlawn to myself."

" I wish it may be me, then. But what do you know
about Inverlawn ?"

*< I think I should know about it."

*< Bless me ! I know the face as well as I know my
own, and better. But the name has somehow escaped
me. Pray, may I ask yom* name ?"

" Hush I huili I" said she solemnly, and holding up

6

XARV BUMNBT. 265

her Itfoad il Ae mum time ; ^ Hiuh, hnah, yon had bet*

ter My BOtUng abcmt that here."

<< I am in utter amaasement I" he exclaimed. ^ What
die mea^Bg of this? I conjure you to tell me your

r

^liitMary BiffBety" said she, in a soft whiiq>er; and
at the aame time she let down a green veil over her face.

If Alknaon's death-warrant had been annoonced to
him at that moment, it could not hare deprired him so
eompletely of sense and motion. His visage changed
into that of a corpse, his jaws fell down, and hit eyes
became glaaed^ so as apparently to throw no reflection
iDWatdly* ' Mr Welch, who had kept his eye steadily
OB liiem all the while, perceived his comrade's dilemma,
aild went up to him. << Allanson ? — Mr AUansim ?
What is the matter with you, man?'* said he. <' Why,
the girl has bewitched you, and turned you into a
statue r

Allanson made some sound in his throat, as if at-
templang to speak, but his tongue refused its office, and
he only jabbered. Mr Welch, conceiving that he was
seised with some fit, or about to faint, supported him
into the Johnston Arms ; but he either could not, or
would not, grant him any explanation. Welch being,
however, resolved to see the maiden in green once more,
persuaded Allanson, after causing him to drink a good
deal, to go out into the hiring-market again, in search

VOL. I. M

> ihnomgh ind throng^
Bottabe temd.
■I ibe cfwd tke ■mmbo^ abe divnl-
€f«ilM^ WelciiliMllyB«ye fixed
Ml kar> W cwiii SBC dii«yvcr wliidi way she wgepb

■I « kiadcl tlvpoc m.wbD as

tlaftake Ind left ^ madket,

ta look o«t agaia for

H# MOB fowad «aa mor baaaiilal tfaaa the last.

k» am lika a ^J^^ datktd in robes of puro-anowy
hi gfooi libboaflL Agun lie pouted tbia new
to Mr David Waldi, arbo declaied tbat 9pch
a peiloil ladglaf bgaMly be bad aefarinhia life fli^en.
Albaaai^ beiafrmahvd to baTe this one at any wages,
took bH' aakkv and pirt tbe asaal qoestion: '< Da yon
wiab te^ bire^ W^^Y ■Mlea?*'

*^ Ye9> sir."

^'WiUyoabirowitbaer

^ I care aol tboag^ I do.**

^ Wbat» ^MB, an yoar wages to be ? Come-HMy?
Aadbereaaenable; I am detennined not to part with
yoa for a trifle.'*

^ My wages mast be in kind ; I work on no otbm'
conditioiis^—Plray, bow are aU tbe good people abont
InTeriawn ?"

AUaoeons.breatb began to cat, and a cbiUness to

ifa

4f Kxfae*^

and Mit fw
mot M fkid

time ewr I knpd
who all tiut<i ovt Ml
but I thmk k vbBxIt

he BSVSt lOBIF CffV uHt 1
HOOfD'^etl mCHT

e^Wj wlieii votBuir elw w<mh mu ne wKtf^^

to a good pffoportioii of Mroat driak. Wh0e lie

tuiis en^agedj a MicBOBewMi ov oeascv

came into the ftifj diat caacM die aale attflNMi at aU

present. This was a lovelf dane, lidaiy hi • fM^

chariot, with two UveiyaMB

268 THE 8H£PHBRD*8 CALENDAR.

clothed in green and gold ; and never snre was tbere
so splendid ia meteor seen in a Mofiat foir. The word
instantly circulated in the market, that this was the'
Lady Elizaheth Donglas, eldest daughter to the "Sari
of Morton, who then sojourned at Auchincastle, in ibe'
ncihity of Moffat, and which lady at that time was
celehrated as a great heauty all oyer Scotland. 1^
was afterwards Lady Keith ; and the mention of this
name in the tale, as it were hy mere accident, fixes
the era of it in the reign of James the Fourth, at the
very thne that fairies, brownies, «.d witches, were at
the rifest in Scotland.

Every one in the market helieved the lady to be the
daughter of the Earl of Morton ; and when she cam^
to the Johnston Arms, a gentleman in green came out
bareheaded, and received her out of the carriage. 'Alt
the crowd gazed at such imparalleled beauty and graii-
deur, but none was half so much overcome as Allan-
son. He had never conceived aught half so lovely
cdther in earth, or heaven, or fairyland ; and whale Ke
Stood in B burning fever of admiration, think of his
astonishment, and the astonishment of the countless
crowd that looked on, when this brilliant and matchr
less beauty beckoned him towards her I He could'not

believe liis senses, but looked this way and that to see

■ '..•''■. - „• '

how others regarded the affair ; but she beckoned him

a second time^ with such « winning courtesy and smile;

Mary burnet. 269

that immediately he pulled off his beaver cap and hasted

.«■.•■•.■■

m to her ; and without more ado she gave him her arm,
and the two.walked into the hosteL

■ 1 ' '^. ■

A^lanson conceived that he was thus distingmshed
bj; liady Elizabeth Douglas, the flower of the land,
and so did all the people of the market ; and greatly
thej wondered who the yoimg farmer could be that
was thus particularly favoured ; for it ought to have
been mentioned that he had not pne personal acquaint-
ance in the fiedr save Mr David Welch of Cariferan.
The first thing the lady did was to inquire kindly after
his health. Allanson thanked her ladyship with all
th0 courtesy he was master of ; and being by this time
pmmiaded that she was in love with him, he became
as light as if treading on the air. She next inquired
after his lather and mother. — Oho I thought he to him-
seU^poor creature, she is terribly in for it I but her love
shall pot be thrown away upon a backward or ungrate*
fill object*— ^He answered her with great politeness, and
at, length began to talk of her noble father and young
Lord WilUam, but she cut him short by asking if he did
not recognise her.

<< Oh, yes I He knew who her ladyship was, and re-
membered that he had seen her comely face often b^
fore, although he could not, at that particular moment,
recall to his memory the precise time or places of their
meeting,"

270 THE shepherd's calendar.

She next asked for his old neighbours of Kirkstyk,
and if they were still in life and health I

Allanson felt as if his heart were $ piece of ice.' A
dullness spread over his whole frame ; he sank heck
on a seat, and remained motionless ; but the beantifvl
and adorable creature soothed him with kind words,
till he agun gathered courage to speak.

<< What r said he ; << and has it been ^our oym Icfftr
ly self who has been playing tricks on me this whale
day?"

<< A first love is not easily extinguished, Mr Allan-
son," said she. << You may guess from my appearance,
that I have been fortunate in life ; but, for aU tjial, ny
first love for you has continued the same, vaalt^^
and unchanged, and you must forgive the little fr^eor
doms I used to-day to try your affections, aikd the ef-
fects my appjBarance would have on you." . . v ^ »

/< It argues something for my good taste, liCHre^fel'y
tJiBt I never pitdied on any face for beauty to-day but
your own," said he. '^ But now that we hare nakt
once more, we «hall not so easily part again. ' I inll
devote the rest of my life to you, only let me ImhiW
the place of your abode.*'

<< It is hard by,^' said she, ^ only a very little space
from this ; and happy, happy, would I be to see ytm
tliere to-ni^t^ were it proper or convenient. But aiy
lord is at present from home, and in a distantx>ott(«lr)r«^-

MART BUBNST. 271

■'^i thdiild not eoDceive that any psrticular hiiider-
ance to my Tirity'' aaid he.

M^itii great apparent reluctance ahe at length con-
aentedto admit of hk Tisit, and offered to leave one of
hnrgenliemen, whom she conld tnut, to be his conduct-
on;- hot this he pomtively refused. It was his desire,
he said, that no eye of man should see him enter or leave
her happy dwelling. She said he was a self-willed man,
but diould have hii own way; and after giving him such
directions as would infallibly lead him to her mansion,
she momited her chariot and was driven away.
. . AHa&8<m was uplifted above every sublmiary con-
oanu Seeking out his fnend, David Welch, he impart-
ed to ham his eztiaordinary good fortune, but he did not
:tall Jiim that she was not the Lady Elizabeth Douglas.
Welch insisted on accompanying him on the way, and
refused to turn hBxk till he came to the very point of
ihe'ioad next to the lady's splendid mansion ; and in
i^tQ nd all that Allanson could say, Welch remained
Jthere tillte saw his comrade enter the court gate, which
Cg^owed with lights as innumerable as the stars of the
Jmoameni.

Allanson had promised to his father and mother to
4i0 home on 4ie morning after the foir to breakfast. He
«4ame not either that day or the next ; and the third day
..4iie old man mounted his white pony, and rode away
4^wwrd4 Mo&t in search of his son. He called at Ca-

S78 THE SHJMnRDVOA&BNDAR.

rifaraft on im w«f, And ]B«d»iiiqarief^«l4tli WiUK
The latter maaifeeled eooie OTftiiikiHii iil^*il^<i'
yoniigBianbadnotfetiinied; immriimhm te iuKtf uIT
tefittherofhkeefety»Maddeeire#te»t0igtMtfl^^
and then with reluctance confessed that the ^t^iiffMt'
waa engaged in an amour witii the Ead of Mm^^Ki't
beantiftddaagliter; &at he had goner to the <AiUH^'
appointmant, and that he» David WcAeh, Ud a^dBdi^
panied faun to the gate, and seen hbn enter, athd iiSri^
iq^parent that his recqrtion had heen a kind ondiAaSt
ha had unied 60 k»g; ■.:^:^r^^

Mr Wekhy aedmg the old man greatly eBfltieftBeitSry
paiwaded to aeoompany him on hin jonmef , as tfa^lii^
who had seen hie 6on> and seen him enters caMei^'^S^
reaching Moffiil they fonnd his steed tftatkBng ir^' ^^
hostel, whither it hadretomed on the night bf^'ft^^^
before the company broke np ; but the owner idUfyot
been heard of sinee seen in company with IiB^iSU8K-^^
both Donglas. The old man set out for And&cibStlH''^
taking Mr David Welch along wi^ hitii ; bift li^"^^
they reached the plaooi Mr Weldi assiiiM ^''j^
wonid not find his son there, as it was nearly in VtK^'
fm^ttt direction thatthey rode on the eVeriing of thb%i£fi^. '
Howeyer, to tha^^ castle they went, and were ield^i!^ '
to the £arV who, after hearing the dd man*s tale, seet&«^
ed to consider him in a state of derangement. He fi^
for his dan^ter EUaabethy and questioned her concern*

h^ inr KjicliBy iridi liw Mm of the old retpeetible
I flijjil|j<Mii iif har ■ppoimment with hint on the night
^jdlut pwieoJniy ¥niKfy and concluded hy sayiAf he
lMigi4dM )bd Um etiB in tome nfe eoooeelment about

TM^MytheeriBgherfctherti^ in this nMumer, md
aaeing the Mrlovs and dejeeted looks of the old nan,
kainr xiotwhat to say, and asked an explanation. Bui
Bfit Welch pat a stop to it by dedaring to old AHanH
s^iQL.that the Lady Elizabeth was not ifae lady wiih
whom his son made the appointment, for he had seen
her» And wonld engage to know her again amoiigten
thopaad; aor was thai- the castle towardi which he had
acoampwiiedhi»son, nor any thing like it. ^Bntgowith
m^ consumed he, «< and, ihongh I am a stranger in thfef
di^Qfy I think I can tako you to the very place.** '

.^^Theyaet out again; and Mr Welch traced ^ road *
(raQt;Moffi^ by wUcd yoang Allanson and he had
gonei, niftU, after tiu^elling seveial miles, they came to
a IjJ#ce where a road etmck off to the right at an angle. '
<< Itfo^ I know we are right," said Weldi ; ** for here'
we stopped, and yotr son intreated me to retnm, wMbh
I reftised, and accompanied him to yon large tree, and
a little way beyond it, from whence I saw'him rec^Vetf '
in at the splendid gate. We shall be in sight of ^'
mfinsion in three minutes^"

Xhey passed on to th^ tree, sad a qiati^ tiN0)ftimd'ft«

m2

/•

•:*>•

274 THE sHigyHisia>'8 <7ai^ndail

but then Mr Weldi lost tbe use of his speedi^^itf he
perceived that there was neither palace nor gale tiiere»
hut a tremendous gtilf, fifty fathoms deep, cod a dark
Ktream foaming and boiling beloW.

** How is this?" said old Allanson. ^< Tliere-iB
ti^ther mansion nor habitatioki of man hote V* ' '*^

Welch's tongue for a long liine recused ita office, tad
he stood like a statue, gazing on the ahered and tmM
scene. ** He only, who made the'spiiits of men^** said
he, at last, << and all the spirits that sojourn in the earth
and air, can tell how this is. We are wanderib^ in a
world of enchantment, and hare been influettced hy
some agen<3ies above hntoto nature, or vriiljKmt itirfMde ;
fbr here of a certainty did I take leave of ytMir MW^
and there, in that direction, and apparently either oil the
verge of that gulf, or the space above it, did I j^ee-hlm
received in at the cmirt gate of a mansion,* splendidnbe-
yond all conception. How can hamacn conilyrehensioa
make any thing of this ?" , . . .>

They went forward to the verge, Mr Wel<ih leHiding
the way to tht» very spot on which he siiTr^he'§ate
opened, and there they found marks vrh&^ M hor^e had
been plunging. Its feet had been over the l]^phik;'!)ut
ii seemed to have fecovei^ itself^ md deep, d^do#n>
and far within; lay ihe mangled corpse of Johtt^ Allan-
son ; and in this manner, mysterious beyond all i^m-
ple, t^minated the eare^ of tfakt wicked and flagitious

f I • •

XARTBUKKBT. 1^5

jmngttas^-^WiMjt a beantifid mond nay be eztaeled
ham thk ftury lakl

4f>Bat amnngall these tnmiiigs end windings, there is
no aoooiint given, yim will say, of die late of Mary Bur-
:iiett;^4ar this last appearance of hers at Moffiit seeins to
haye been altogether a phantom or illusion. Gentle and
Uidrsadcal, I can give you no account of the fate of that
tmtidmri lor though the ancient fairy tale proceeds, it
seems to me to involve her fate in ten times more mvR-
. tery than what we have hitherto seen of it.
. . Tha yeady return of the day on which Mary was lost,
.ffraa jOfbaerved as a day of mourning by her aged and dis-
(flonscdate pnrents» — % day of sorrow, of £e»ting, and hu-
.miJiatioai. Seven yean came and passed away, and the
.^venthretumiii^ day of fasting and prayer was at hand.
-'Qn-di&evaBii]^ previous to it, old Andrew was moving
jiloiig the sands of the loch, still looking for some relic
.Hof . his beloved Mary, when hd was aware of a little
shrivelled old man, who came posting towards him.
riChe ciBatnue was not above five spans in height, and
had a face scarcely like that of a human creature ; but
lie was, nevertheless, civil in his deportment, and sen-
sible Hi epeecfa. He bade Andrew a good evening, and
^ed him what he was looking for. Andrew answer-
ed^-Aat he was looking for that which he should never
find*

<^ Fhiy, what is your name, ancient shepherd?" said

SIS TVBStfMBM'ilCiftSSD.

M^ved dnghter named

.■ .«.

.*.-#■

^ Wfcti beeuM of Imt ?* Mked tile tmnger.

Andrew dbook Us iMnd, tvned ivmd, and began to
mome away ; it was a dieme that his htmt tatiid not
brods. He sauntered along tiie locb sands^ Ins dim
ofe araaniay every wUle pdible aa he pasoed almig.
There was a hopekasness in his stooping fmn, Mi^glih,
fail my^ hk f eauaes, — in e^ery step tiiat he took there
wasnhopdess i^ialiiy. The dwarf followed hin)> aid
began to espostalatewidi him. <^ Old man» I see y<m
ana piaing nnder some real or fancied affliction/' ilfedd
hep f< Bntineontuiidngto do BO, yonarenei^eract-
iagaocart^ng to the dictates of reason nolr tmei^Kglott.
What is man thai he shoold fret, or the son of man
that hft'ShoiildiapiiM^ under the chastening hand of his
Maker?" ^' -

^^'lam&rftaeJQsUfyingmysell," retnmed Andrew,
snrveying his shriyelled monitor with some degree of
astonishment. ** Bnt there are some feelings that nei-

;^ wiaea mm- seKgiMi
some tbfit m pKOBft say

thw^riwolatriy or fnltipfl|> All

tjSqpjwiie4»qDg»]
gobiletieB ariide, I arit fPVySildy
cfluie'iif yo«r ilwghiir?*
..^AAAeRrtfcerafhmpirii, aiitke
bodyy" nid Andrew, lolaMhr; *<
hands I coiMniitad fav ftoai <Udha«d. He
knpws what beeasM af Wr, bitf 1 4m mtttT

...*^Af Iya«

numnied lior har aU ifcat vUar

¥ Y«i ; and I wiU^a dawn to
any only dani^iBr, tfe ckild af aiy ape,
M9bc6i9tL O^thMnaeartyy-laal
tfaon ang^ af my dariinf cyid ?
wilt know tbat dba was not Mka
waaawmpKrityandnpnptyaliantBiyMiryf that
haxdly consialCDi witJk aw frail wttatnT

<< Wonldat thaw like to aaa bar apm?^ wmk ika
dwai^«

Andrew tamed roand» Ida wkole fimne liiaking at
withnpalsy, and gazed on ike andarioaaiaqi. ^8ea

278 THE SIIKPHJBBD*8 CALENDAR.

her agifaiy creature !** cried he TdheBe&tfy— ^ Wodd I
like to see her egmin, say'st thou ?"
. «« I said 80^" said the dwarf, << and I sayfiBrther, Doet
ikoa know this token? Look, and see if thoa doti?"
Andrew took the token, and k>oked at it, then at the
sfarivelled stnmger, and then at the token again ; aadat
length he borst into tears, and wept alond; hut they
were tears of joy, and his weeping seemed to hare some
breathings of laughter intermingled in it. And stfllas
he kissed the token, he called out in broken and conml-
sipe sentences, — ^ Yes, auld body, I do know it ! — ^I do
know it ! — ^I do know it ! It is indeed the -saBie golden
Edward, with three holes in it, with which I presented
my Mary <m her birth-day, in her eig^temth year, to
buy a new suit for the holidays. But whea she took it
she said— ay, I mind weel what my bonny woman said,
—»< It is see bonny and sae kenipeckle,' said she^ * that
I think rU keep it for the sake of the giver.' O dear,
dear !— Blessed little creature, tell me how she is, and
where she is? Is she livings or is she dead?"

«< She is living, and in good iieahh," said the dwaif ;
M and better, and braver, and happier, and lovidier than
eror; and if you make haste, you will see her and her
family at Mofiat to-morrow afternoon. They are to
pass there on a journey, but it is an express one, and I
am sent to yen with that tdcen, to inform you of ihe
circumstance, that you may have it in your power to

mlf^itiA ^ntaee jcmr Mawtd dauthiei onee M««
you die/'

''^ And am I to sect mjMirr si Mcfiitr Codj^-
away, little, dear, welcone iM^dy, iIm IJutd «f hea-
tittiy eeme airajy and tarte of aa aaU fllKpheri'* He»<t
ftbpqr, and 111 gaag foot for foot wi^ too to Mo&l
and my auld wife shall gane foot for foot widi «• aae.
It&SL ywi, Httteyblewedy and wekeaic crilc, emtm ahmg
with me."

** I may not tairy to eirter roar hoase. or taste of
yo«r deer, good shepherd,** smd the hemr. ** Mar
J^enty scfll be widnn yom* walk, aad a thaakfol heart
to enjoy it I But my directiom wre neither to tt^W*
meat nw drink in this ooaatrr, hut to haste back to her
tet aent me. Go — hasto, and mdke ready, for yon
have no tame to lose."

'< At what time wfll she be there?* fried Andrew,
flinging the pkid from Inm to ran home with the ti-
dings.

<< IVedaely when iSbc shadow of the Holy Cross falls
dae east," cried the dwarf; and tmning romid, he has-
ted on his way.

^I^ren old Jean Linton savf her husband eoming hob-
-Wag^Did running home wiihont his plaid, and haring
his doublet flying wide open', she had no donbt that he
had lost Insets ; and, foil of amaety, ilie met Mm at
the side of the kail-yard. " Gndeness preserve ns a*

280 THB shbphbbd's calkwdajl

in ov rigirt toMesy Andrew Bvraeli wlHtTt tlie
wT 7009 Andrew Burnet?^

*' Sttnd out o' my gtte, wife, for, d*ye aee^ Fm iii*
ther in a baste, Jean Lmton."

<*I see diat indeed, gndeman; but stand 8till| nd
ten me what Ins patten yon m sic a haste. Jryedf^
nentit r

** Na, na ; gndewife, Jean Linton, Fm no dementit
— ^Fm only gann away tiU Mofiat."

^ O, gudeness pity the poor anld body ! How 4:;an
ye gang to Moffiit, man ? Or what have ye to do a^
Moffiit ? Dinna ye mind that die mam is the day a'
ovr solemnity?''

^ Hand out o* my gate, anld wife, and dinna speak
o* solemnities to- me. Fll keep it at Mofiat the nn^rn.
Ay, gddewife, and ye shall keep it at Moffiit, too. What

d'ye ttmk o' that, woman? Too-whoo I ye dinna ken'

.-•*'■

the metal that's in an anld body till it be tried."

** Andrew— Andrew Burnet I

^ Get away wi' yonr fingfatened looks, woman ; and
haste ye, gang and fling me ont my Sabbath-day cli^^
And, Jean Linton, my woman, d'ye hear, gang and pit
on yo«if bridal gown, and yonr silk hood, for ye maun
be «l Moffirt- the mom too ; and it is mair nor time We
wevto' away. Dinna look sae suiprised, woman, till X
teU fe, tlittt tnff ain Mary is to meet us at Mofiat th^ '

• '.it

MART BUBMET. 881

'tfO, Andrew I £iiiut^K)rtwi'tliefiBeliiigsofanaiild

fDfwkan heart r

- -• .

^ Gude forbidy my avid wife, that I should over sport
wT fiseliiig o' yooTBy'' cried Andrew, bursting into tears ;
'^'t&ejr are a' as saacred to me as breathings frae the
itiroiie o* Grace. But it is true that I tell ye ; our
dear bairn is to meet us at Moffat the mom, wi' a son
in erery hand ; and we maun e'en gang and see her
ainoe again, and kiss her and bless her afore we dee.*'

The tears now rushed from the old woman's eyes
like fountains, and dropped from her sorrow-worn
cheeiu to the earth, and then, as with a spontaneous
morement, she threw her skirt oyer her head^ kneel-
ed down at her husband's feet, and poured out her
aoul.in thanksgiving to her Maker. She then rose up,
qmte deprired of her senses through jpy, and ran
cnmdiing away on the road towards MoffiKt, ai if has-
ting beyond her power to be at it. But Andrew brought
her back ; and they prepared themselres for their jour-

Kirkstyle being twenty miles frt>m Mo&t, they set
cQt on the afremoon of Tuesday, the 16th of Septem-
ber; slept that night at a place called Tumbenry Sheil^
and were in Moffiit next day by noon*' Wearisome
was the remainder of the day to that aged couple ; they
wandered about conjecturing by what road their daugh*
ter would come, and how she would come attended.

2S2 "t^HE SHE;PUJSiU>*S CALENDAR.

<' I have made up my mmd on baith these matters,"
said Andrew ; " at first I thought it was likely that ^e
would come out of the east, because a' our blessings
come frae that airt ; but finding now that would be o er
near to the very road we bae come oursell§, I now take
it for granted she'll come frae the south ; and I just
think I see her leading a bonny boy in every hand, ai^d
a servant lass carrying a bit bundle ahint her.''-

The two now walked out on all the southern roads^
in hopes to meet their Mary, but always returned to
watch the shadow of the Holy Cross ; and, by the time
it fell due east, they could do nothing but stand in the
middle of the street, and look round theqi in all. direcr
lions. At length, about half a mile out on llie Dut9-
firiea road, they perceived a poor beggar woman op-
proaching with two children following close to h^,
Ibid another beggar a good way behind. Theii: eyes
w^e instantly riveted on these objects ; for Aii^e^ir
thought he perceived his friend the dwarf in the ^^
that was behind ; and now all other earthly objeclts
were to them nothing, save these approaching be^ggfurs.
At that moment a gilded chariot entered the villi^
from the south, and drove by them at full speedy ha-
Yifig two livery-men before, and two behind, clothed in
gr^en and gold. " Ach-wow ! the vanity of worldly
giaandeur 1" ejaculated Andrew, as the sple^idid vebiicle
i9vaoA thuiddmiig by ; but neither he nor l^is wiii^

. MARY BURMET. ^83

deigned to look at it &rther, their whole attention
bring fixed aa the group of beggars. << Ay, it is just
my. woskan/* said Andrew, << it is just hersell ; I ken
her gang yet, sair pressed down wi* poortith although
she be. But I dinna care how poor she be, for bailJi
her and hers sail be welcome to my fireside as lang as
I hae ane."

While their eyes were thus strained, and their hearts
melting with tenderness and pity, Andrew felt some-
thing embracing his knees, and, on looking down, there
was his Mary, blooming in splendour and beauty,
kneeling at his feet. Andrew uttered a loud hysteri-
cal scream of joy, and clasped her to his bosom ; and
old Jean Linton stood trembling, with her arms spread,
but durst not close them oA so splendid a creature,
tin her daughter first enfolded her in a fond embrace,
and then she himg upon her and wept. It was a won-
derful event — a restoration without a parallel. They
indeed beheld their Mary, their long-lost darling ;
they held her in their embraces, believed in her iden-
tity, and were satisfied. Satisfied, did I say ? They
Were happy beyond the lot of mortals. She had just
aUghted from her chariot; and, perceiving her aged
parents standing together, she ran and kneeled at their
feet. They now retired into the hostel, where Mary
presented her two sons to her father and mother. They
spent the evening in every social > endearmsnt ; and

Mvy kftded iIk fi^od «M c—pte vitk rich prasents,
- iIkb till MMJMght, vkn tkey both fell
a deep aad hippr deep, aad them ahe remoonted
aad was fkirea awm j. If ahe was any
aia Scatkad, I aeiw hmd of h ; bother
reisscgd ia the thoaghls of her hq^iness till
the da J of their dea^

'*

.•.•7.-'

•

•it»'i

." ^

i;»'

• ; ' \

r.Mff

\

1 .

\

:»■*

*

iJ r;

-

J ••

•
1 *

■•!*

■«♦

:•.'-'

,--..■ f ■!.• ~ *•..■,•■•;.

1 1, t r. ,1- \

THB UKnmilB OF THS.BLACK HAGOS. 265

<# ^ ft . - -■ - - i

Itil ii? ■ ..

Ci-^.j;''*;*.' • •■.

\

WU .JJ.

'I.' J cfVii

CHAFl'KRX.

THE BROWNIE OF THE BLACK HAGG8.

When the Sprots were Lairdt of Wheelhope, wliieli
is now a long time ago, there was one of the ladiea who
was very badly spoken of in the coontiy. People did
not just openly assert that Lady Wheelhope (for erery
landward laird's wife was then styled Lady) was a
witch, but every one had an aversion even at hearing
her named ; and when by chance she happened to be
mentioned, old men would shake their heads and say,
<< Ah I let ns alane o* her I The less ye meddle wi* her
the better." Old wives would give over spinning, and,
as a pretence for hearing what might be said about her,
poke in the fire with the tongs, cocking up their ears all
the while ; and then, after some meaning coughs, hems,
and haws, would haply say, ^ Hech-wow, sirs ! An
a' be true that's said I'' or something equally wise and
decisive.

In short. Lady Wheelhope was accounted a very bad
woman. She was an inexorable tynmt in her family,

266 THE SHBPHERD's CAIiEKDAR.

quarrelled with her servants, often cursing them, stri-
king them, and turning them away ; especially if they
were religious, for she could not endure pe<^le of that
character, hut charged them with every thing had.
Whenever she foimd out that any of the servant nen
of the Laird's establishment were religious, she gave
them up to the military, and got them shot ; and seve-
ral girls that were regular in their devotioQfi> she was
supposed to have got rid of hy poison. She was cer-
tainly a wicked woman, else many good people w;ere
mistaken in her chanctw ; and the poor peneonted Co-
venanters were oUiged to unite in their prayers agaiast
her*

A» for the Laird, he was a hig, dun-bcedy.jdtffy
body, that cared neither for good nor evil, and did>iiot
well know the one from the other. He laughed at has
lady s tantrums and barley-hoods ; and the greater: the
rage^at eJie got into, the Laird thought it the better
sport. One day, when two maid*Bervants came numiiig
to him, in great agitation, and told him that his lady
had felled one oi their companions, the Laird laughed
heaptily, and 6aid he did not doubt it.

« Why, sir, how can you laugh ?" said they* << The
poor gki is killed.''

« Very likely, very likely," said the Laird. « Well,
it wUl teach her to take care who she sagecs again."
<< And, sff, your lady will be hanged."

THE BBOVNXB OF THK BUiCK HA6GS. 287

« Verf likal^r; weU, it will teach her how to strike
so nu^ily agun-^Ha, ha, ha I Will it not, Jesay ?*'

> B«l when tins samo Jessy died suddenly one mom-
it^ the Laird was greatly confoiinded, and seemed
dnily lo oomprehend that there had been unfair play
geftsg. ThN« was little doubt that she was taken off
by^ poison ; but whether the Lady did it throu^ jea-
kmsy OF Bot, was never divulged ; but it greatly bam*
boosled and astonished the poor Laird, for his nerves
lailed him, and his whole frame became paralytic He
se^ms to have been exactly in the same state of mind
imih a ooUey that I once had. He was extremely fond
of the gun as long as I did not kill any thing with it,
(^ikere being no game laws in Ettrick Forest in those
day%) and he got a grand chase after ^e hares when I
mifliod'them. But there was one day that I chanced
f&rim marvel to shoot one dead, a few paces before his
nose. I'll nev^ forget the astonishment that the poor
beast manifested. He stared one while at the gun, and
another while at the dead hare, and seemed to be draw-
ing the conclusion, that if the case stood thus, there was
no creature sure of its life. Finally, he took his tail
between his legs, and ran away home, and never wotdd
face a gun all his life again.

So was it precisely with Laird Sprot of Wheelhope.
As long as his lady's wrath produced only noise and up-
roar among the servants, he thought it fine sport ; but

28S TaSMUBPHODg

what he mm lAaX he b^red tlie drMidM cflbols of
it» he became like a barrel organ oat of twM^ and eaidd
only ducovne one note, which he did to OTVfy «aa 1»
met. ** I wish she mayna hae gotten somethiiig Jkn
had been the wanr of." This note he repeated eK^
and late, night and day, sleeping and waking, alone mA
in eompany, from the moment that Jessy died tSU As
was buried; and oh going to the chorchyard as dliif
Bsomrner, he whispered it to her relatives by ihe iHiy.
When they came to the graire, he took his stand at All
head, nor would he give place to the girl's fiiKther ; b«t
there he stood, like a huge post, as though he neidmr
saw ner heard ; and when he hadlowered her head mta
the grave, and dropped the cord, he slowly lifted his tat
with one hand, wiped his dim eyes with the back of ika
other, and said, in a deep tremulous tone, ^< Poor hwifal I
I wish she didna get something she had been the waar
ot"

This death made a great noise among the coraittoil
people ; but there was little protection for the lifo of
the subject in those days ; and provided a man or wo-
man was a real Anti-Covenanter, they might kill a good
many wi^ut being quarrelled for it. So there was no
one to take cognizance of the circumstances relating to
the death of poor Jessy.

After this, the Lady walked softly for the space of
two or three years. She saw that she had rendered her^

7

THE BRQWMIE OF TiU MLACM^ HAQQ9. 880

V^.MJi^oP^ ^^ '^ entirely lost Ler luMband s counte-
Vtff^ ffhich ^he liked wont of alL But tbe evil pro-
2gu|(|y cp^ not be oTercome ; and a poor boy, whom
^ JfWn^ <'nt of sheer compassion, had taken into his
^ffyifiOf being found dead one morning, the country
pef^le ^onld po longer be restrained ; so they went in

^^ bo4y to the Sheri£^ and insisted on an investigation.

■

It. was. proved that she detested the boy, had often
thi||9tened him, and had given him brose and butter
tl)pi afternoon before he died ; but notwithstanding of
^11 this, the cause was ultimately dismissed, and the
powers fined.

Ko one can tell to what height of wickedness she
mji^ jIiow have proceeded, had not a check of a very
Miygnlor lund been laid upon her. Among the servants
the^^lQame home at the next term, was one who called
hiliui^ Merodach ; and a strange person he was. He
had the form of a boy, but the features of one a hun-
d|^ years old, save that his eyes had a brilliancy and
restlessness, which were very extraordinary, bearing a
strong resemblance to the eyes of a well-known species
of monkey. He was froward and perverse, and disre-
gf^oded the pleasure or displeasure of any person ; but
hcf performed his work well, and with, apparent ease.
From the moment he entered the house, the Lady con-
ceived, a m9rtal antipathy against him, and besought the
Laird to turn him away. But the Laird would not con*

*

VOL. I. K

29(1* THE 8HBHIimD*8 CAUDOftAm •}>

sent ; 1m nerar tuned away any sarvant, and vmnnorm
he had hired this fellow for a trinal wage^and-^ha.nei^
ther wanted activity nor peraeyerance. Tha wnttmil
conaeqiienceof tins refoaal was, tkat the Lady inaCant-
lysethecaelf to embitter Merodaeh'a4i£iiaa:iniiahiaa
poauUe, in order to get early qait of a^meatio vmrfi
way 80 disagreeable Her hatred of him ^pai not £ke a
common antipathy entertained by one buraan being
against another,— -she hated him as one nugbt bate a
toad OF an adder ; and his oecapation of jottarynan {as
the Laird termed his servant of all woik) keepmg hioi
always abont her hand, it mast have proved higUy aa^.
noying.

• She scolded bun, she raged at him; but be oaly
mocked her wrath, and giggled and bnigbed at beiv WBlb
the most provoking derision* She tried to £ell bimagaia'
and again, but never, with all her address, could die hiti^
him ; and never dkl she make a blow at him, that she
did not repiuit it* , She -was heavy and unwieldy^ >and
he as quick in his motions as a monkey; besides, ht^
nerally contrived that she shoold be in sticb an nngo^
vemable n^e, that when she fiew at him, she hardly
knew what she wte doing. At one tbne she g«d(JM
her blow towards him, and be at the same instant atoid*^
ed it with sach dexterity, tbat she knocked dowA ibe-
chief hind, or foresman ; and then Merodac^ giggled so
bea^y^ that, Uftbgth^ kitchen poker^ she threw it at

rBKWmamumownm BLACK. nAow* 891

hfta.wkk;«liiH ilwigi <rf kaocldby-ot Ut fanini; tmt
the iiiiiBfl8icaty.lH«l» ereiy artkle of crodcery oa the

• » ■ •

ofifaeitfaeM hwted to the Ldrd, crying bitteiiy, and

Itiiiiyhiuidwwewid net e«flRwthi» wretch Merodech,

aiiihe eitied>hn% te Hey epothMr night in the family^

i. ¥^ Why^ thflOy put him sway, and tnmble me no qMwe

abovt hiBiy'' said the Lmrd.

. c^rPntldaa away r ezdaimed die; *< I have abeady
ondemliiim away e fanndred timee^ and diarged him
nemr to ktmeeeehiBi horriUe &oe agaitt; but he only
gOBiy jnd aMwera with spme intolenible piece of im-
pertinence.''

. LEli»'pectini^city nf the fellow amused the Laird; his
dfauieyBB tramed upwards into his head with delight ; he
thealocdred two ways at once, turned round his back,
and haggled till the tears ran down his dun cheeks ; but
huicould only articulate, << You're fitted now."

- Xbe.J^y'a i^gony of rage still increasing from this
(igpsimij -she-upbraided the Laird bitterly, and said he
was not-worthy the name ei man, if he did not turn
awuy that pestilenee^ aller the way he had abused her.

•. !^. Why^ Shusy, my dear, what has he done to you ?"

. M.Whut den^ to me ! has he not caused me to knock
deans John Thomson ? and I do not know if ever he
will come to life again I"

..^ Have ymtfdled yo^ Csvonrite John Thomson?"

39£ nps.8iuPHBBP'« cAiogfiUft. : : r

taid die Laird, kugUag more hdacAlir tbm'MoD^i
<< you might haFe iione a wm»e deed tban ^bat/*" .

<< And has he not broke every plat^.aod dish onifta
firhole dresser ?** conth&ued the Ladjr ; << and for all flis
devastation^ he only mocks at m^ d»pleasiire^-^-abaii^
Hitely mocka me)— -and if you do not have Mm tuhi^
away>.«nd hanged or shot for hk deeds, yo« are iiot
worthy the name of man.*^

•. «< O alack I What a devaatatib:^ among, the cbeena
metal I" said the Laird ; and calling on Merodachi lie
said, " Tell mf^ thou evil M^rodach of Babylon, ho)r
thou dared St knockdown thy Lady's favourite sarvanf^
John Thomson?''

i << Not I, y^nir honour. It was ifiy Lady herself, who
got into such a.furious rage at me, that the mistook
her man, and filled Mr Thomson; and the good ton's
skull is fractured.** . - -

<< That was v^ odd," said the Laird, chuddipg;
^ I do not .Qompreheiid it* But then, what set yod'bn
smadnng all my Lady's delft a^d cheena wane ?^*^TIiat
was a mtost mfamous and provoking actioii.'' -

*^ It was she herself^ your honour. Sorry w^nld'I.
be to break one dish belonging to the house* 'I talDe
aU the house anrvants to witness^ that my Lady ionash-

ed. all the dishes with a poker ; and now lays the.ldittiie

I»» « •

The Laindiumed.hia dim eyes on hisi hidy, who was

THB*&ROVklB OF THE BLACK HAOOS. S99

cxying witk Texadoa Bni rage, and seemed meditating
sMllier perB<»ial attack on the colprity which he did
Oft M all appear to shim, hxit rather to coort. She,
howBTer, vented h« wrath in threatenings of the most
d^ and desperate revenge, the e^tnre all the while
teBmriBg her diat she would he foiled, and that in all
her encounters and contests with him, she would uni*
Itonly come to the worst ; he was resolred to do his
daty» and there before his master he defied her.

The Lurd thought more than he considered it pru**
dent to reveid ; he had little doubt that his wife would
find some means of wreaking her Tengeance on the ob*
ject of her displeasure ; and he shuddered when he re-
colleeted one who had taken << something that she had
heen^e waur of."

Ii^ a word, ^e-Lady of Wheelhope'-s inyeterate ma-
lignity against ^lis one object, was like the rod of Mo*
ic% that swallowed up the rest of the serpents. All
4>ar wicked and evil prc^nsities seemed to be super-
^teded, if not utterly absorbed by it. The rest .of the
'family now liyed in comparative peace and quietness ;
^or early apid late her midevolence was venting itself
'against the jotteryman^ and against him alone. It was
a delirium of hatred and vengeance, on which the whole
faent and bias of her inclination was set. She could
■ not stay from the creature s presence, or, in the inter-
tak wjien abs«it fro|B him|i|he spent her breath In

csnet snd «xecnrtioiis; andtkraii liotaUe larres^.^
ivn agam t» seek him, her eyes |;leanimg :«i|Iu|M))l^
ticipated delights ef faageancey whfle^ ever flMllPiHIiy
fJl the ridicule and the hana redounded en heffMK'
, Was it not strange ihat she oould notgc^ ^g^f^f
fhis sole annoyance of her life? One fRoni^ <)ifi|ie. .
Aong^ she easily might. But hy this iiaie itber^ i{g|B
plothing farther from her wishes ; she wanted yottgeiya^
ftilly adefnate, and delicions Tengpance^ on her m^'
d|ous opponent. But he was a strange aad te^JUe
jcreatnre, and the means of retaliation constaivtly c^mey
js it weirerto his hand.

Bread and sweet milk was the only fiire that Mero^
dach cared for, and having bargained fnr thal» he would
not want it, though he often got it wilih 4i ^surse »wi4
.with ill wilL The* Lady having, upon one ^ccaiiion,
intentionally kepi ba<^ his wonted allowanoe.for aome
.Qays, on the Sabbedi morning follawittg^=8h0:aet«JlHm
jdown a bowl of ridi sweet milk, iraU druggedtvi^ B
^ieadly poison ; oqd then she lingered in^a little «ale-
reoa^ to watch the succiesa of her grand plo<^ end-pre-
'*lreirt any other creature from tastii^iilliie po^niK Me-
rodaeh came in, andthe hoits^-maidsaid to hbdy ^V^Th^e
is your' breakfast, creature.'' < u^

<< Oho ! my Lady has been liberal this momiiig,7>8aid
Vi ; ^^ hut I am beforehand with her^<«-fier^i little Mis-
'1^ you seem very.hmigry te-day-9*-take you my br^-

THBFSHOWHIB OF THB HUkCK J9A008. 295

:i

i:

HkiT' "And whli that Iw wt the berenge dawn to the
Illidf^lilille-&voiitite tpaiiial. It so h^pened that
Itiif^iiiiji't only Mn came at that instant into the ante**
ro^aeekhig her^ aadteaaing hit mamma abont eome*
ti^tagf "tAidk wididrew her attention from the hall«-table
M'iift^ttlMik When she looked again, and saw Miaaielapr
^rig^ the^Bweet nnlk^ she bnrat from her hiding-plaee
IAm ft fcuy^ acreaming as if her head had heen on fire,
Mo&eA ihe Temainder of its contents against the wall,
aadlifdng* Missie in her bosom, retreated hastily, cry-
•tefBUthewmy.

<< Ha, ha, ha — ^I have yon now I** cried Merodach,
tt»]die>mnish^ from the halL
j-' f^)«^ Missie died immediately, and rery privately;
indeed^ she Wonld hare died and been buried, and ne-
iW^ne haiie seen her, save her mistress, had not Met
vodad, by. a luck that never failed him>. looked over
ittf wall of the flower garden, just as hii lady was lay-
ing her favourite in a grave of her own digging. She,
iwt ftirceiving her tormentor, plied on at her task,
vp^tfophioing die insensate little carcass, — " Ah! poor
idear.little ceeature, thou hast had a hard fortune, an4
luist disttk of the bitter potion that was not intended
for thee ; but he shall drink it three times double for

Ay jakeT

-' "^Is that little ACssie?" said the eldricii voice of the

jottevjvum, dose at the Lady's ear. She uttered a loud

in -im wnti x htei jf dbKxrt»iK that divcH

v3 afll iumUt Oft diap ^wa ImL*

* I watt aaog of Tqg" n jKMBfc §Km&h cur, Hen(e
vxdk To«r cItM 6cc!, tad tdke ewe of yovraeU."

it vo«ld be too tBwttkg aod bcnible to vdmte <»
Tcod til ^ landcBlB that lefl o«t between this imao-
covmtaUo coofile. Tlieir enmity against each other
liad no end, and no midgation ; and searcely a single
day passed over on which Ae Lady^s acts of malerd*

VUMUB VUBg OT

liMOHtf) IB top

dblin

Noues were heard on the attin W aaciav ao^ k «»

adiiapai^aiDOBrdieBiiiiMia, ifcattfcrI^rfyi^W»fi;

aeakiBI^

Sevenl of dwin woya Ikv« svan tkat

ber pMong aad repMHv OB ife
fdien aH waa qoieC; bvt iIkb it m Hnwiat wd
known, that Merodadi alepl with wcD faifenf rf doan,
and a eompamon in another hed in the name' roont.
whose hed, too, waa neawat the dooc Xohadf tmni
nmdi whal became of the jotterynHB, for he wna an
unsocial and diaagreeaMe penon ; hnt aome one told
hishnchat they had aeen, and Innted a wiapicion of the
Lady's intent. Bnt the trealure only bit hb npper lip,

If «

.t *H

kifpykBi k been teiivJliid
reewcNd ^e 9i» «£ k, fiiE tlMTO ^M» U#0d

dim was Mttle lioiJit tlM U WM dbe4iloft4 <if Jw^^
jbrnocoK ttd belofvd iHif , ibe Mk hes and ho|pe.of Ae
ftouly. '

Tins blow deprived the LiM e£ «ll power <of: ac-
tion; bdt te Ledy bed a bfolber, » Man of tbe. law,
wbo came asd iostaiitly proceeded to aa mvestigatijto
of tbis nnacoonntable murder. Beftne tbe Samff
IffriTed, the bonsekeeper took ^ Ladf 'a bnillier>aaide,
and told Inm be bad better not go on with AeMcror
tiny, for idie was anre tbe crime wonld bo bio^§;bt
iiome to ber imfortvnafce imtreas ; and after flBunkung
into scTeral conoboradve dnnnB8tance% laid mwnig
ibe state of tbe raving maniac^ witb tbe Uood oft ber
band and arm, be macte- the investigation a Tary short
one, declariiig the domestics all excnlpated*

The Laird attended his bo/s fimera], and laid his

THx Bioannft or sum. r bm^qk ^<»o8. 2d9

jMdrkkjdM^gnere^ b«t iiqpipmr^d exactly :Uke a man
walkiiig in a tiaacB, anavtoBiatoiif without ieelingi or
lMM|lMi^ oteaiinuaagaiiAgat the fiwflral prooeenon,
JM^ail aowthii^he coekL not coroprdiend* And when
the iinA ball Tef the pariah church fell artottuog^aa the
(Mpaa ofqiraached thekiricHrtik^ be cast a din eye mp
towMNb the balfryy and said hastily, **W^ whata
|fcat ? (kk myt we're jnat in timob juat in tiaie»" And
•mkemiWWB he .hammaring over the name of *^ Evil
Mtfodadv Kiag of Bahyion,*' to himaelC He aeeued
ao have aoflM fur-fetched conception that his nnac^
jBomrtahla jottMyman waa in >ome*way connected with
<lhe death of hia only aon, and other leaser calamities,
although the evidence in favour of Merodach's inm>-
senoe was as usual quite decisive.
7. .. T3m griefOQs mistake of Lady Wheelhope can oor
iy he-acconnted for, by supposing her in a state of de-
:^HigeiBeBty or rather under some evil influence, over
'srkicii die had no control ; and to a person in such a
^iMKte^ the mistake, was not so very unnaturaL The
j»aauoa-hoQse of Wheelhope was old |md irregular.
The atur had four acute turns, and four landing-places,
all the same. In the ,upparmost chamber slept the.twu
dosaeatics, ■■■Merodach in the bed furthest in, and in
the chand>er immediately below that,, which was ex-
actly similar, slept the young Laird and his tutor, the
former in the bed fiurthest in ; and thus, in th^ turmoil

of ber wild «nd raging paaaioiis, her dinl liaiid mnit
lienelf eUldlewk

Merodach was expelled the family -folliwidi^'
xefiised to accept of hia wagea, which &e man of
preaaed i^on him, for fear of €urthef miadiief ;
"Went away in i^parent aoUenneaa and diseonteni, nb ,
one knowmg whither.

When hiB diflmiaaal was annoinH^ to the Lady,
who teas watched day and night in her chatther, ihe
news had such an effect on her, that her whole^finailie
^seemed electrified ; the hbirorB of Temorto vaniahedy
■and another passion, whic^ I neither can conprtimid
nor define, took- the sole poaacooion of her dis^mpci:*^
^irit. << He must not go I-^He «Aa/f not go f "^he
exclaimed. '< No, no, no— ho ahaU ne^-^-lie idlall fiol
—he ahall not T and then ledie instantly set haradtf
tdxmt iliakiiig ready to follow him, ntteting lall ibib
while the moat ^ahdical expressions, indtcalive of na^
ticipated' rengeani^. — ^^ Oh, could I but snap liis n^rriea
one by one^ and hiii among his Titak I Coold I halt
slice his bent off piecemeal in small messes, 'and 'fwa
-hia blood lopper, Bsad bubble, and spin away in j^v^le
alaya ; and then to see hkn giih, and grin, and grinyand
grin I 01i-->«olH*^>h'^Howbeatrttfolandgraiid'aaii^
it would he to see him grin, andgrin, tnd grin-T And
in audi a style would i^e run -on for hours tagetlmr. ■'■

She thought of nothing, dlle spake of no^nng, bttt

THB^MMywif n OF tta MAck baggs. SOI
*liMf tftnii tlint jotlqiypHBi, wlioiii aiost people now be-

• • •

gan to Tegsrd as a ct^ature that nvas^^not canny.**

'^Fb#^lad^Mto-iAtt^eaty and drhdit, and worir, like other

^pMfii^r (tftiH li^inrd thai about faun that was not lite

dttar SMu '^He iraB-a boy in form, and an antedilii-

fJaikiihiBatarei "^ome tliovght he wtts a mongrel, b^

tween a Jew and an ape ; some a wiaard^ some a kel-

piey or-afaify, bat mvst of all, that he was really and

troly a Biownie. - What he was I do not know, and

thewfeffo wiU not pretend to say ; but be that as it

nafy in spka of locks and keys, watching and waking,

lifilk Lady of Whedhope soon made her escape^ and

^dappdjrfiter him. TheattondantSyindaed^ wovdd hairo

•aude oaith thatshe was carried away by some inTistble

hand, for it was impossible, they said, that she cotdd

4i«r* reaped oni foot^like ia&Kt people; and this edi-

tiim oi the story >ta6k in the coontry ; but s^isiblie

pei^le Tiawed the matter in another light.

> As for instance, when Wattie Blythe, the Lsard's

old shspheard, -came in -from the hill one morning, his

wiife Bessie' thus :ju9eoBted him« — << His presenice be

aboat US, Wattie Bly^ I ha^ ye heard what; baa

happened at the ha'? ThingB are aye taming waor

a^ waar theiey and it looks like as if Prorideiiee had

gi'-en up oar Laird^ honse to destmetioil. Tins grand

'estate mann now gang fraa the Sf^olst for it baa finisb'

edthem."

902 ' '.*QSBSHSnUiia8£AUBHVi4U: vlil

die fi^ti» Inil tiMl Sprotflhti hae fiMfliiaclihftJisM^
and themaeUn imo.tha booU 13wy Jnerheoa a/vrickad
«id deg6Mrat» rac% and aje the/laigir tha ■■■yililb
ti»yl«ei»Bchtd thewtmoBtbomidio'iaMdh^^wiilBwi
Mtt ; and itV time tbe deii were looidng- after buiaiiJL
•. *<AI^ Wattie. Blylhe» ye nefai* said A.tnMT/flay.
And tkat'sfvit iba very poinl vdiere yenv aUuy. ead^
and numbi begine ; for kasna ike deil^ 4nr the AMrie«|tiqr
the browniet) ta'en away our Leddy bodily I. Mmi Urn
haiU coiuilry ia mmung and riding ia seareh.o' hva;
jnd there is tarenty hander meiks offered to the fivt
ifaaC can fiadher» and briag her safe back. Theylaift.
ta'ea her awayv flipn and bane^ body and sonl, anid at
WattieT - - *-i.

** Hech-awow ] bvt that is awsome I: And where iaift
thought they hare ta'en her to^ Bessie ?' • < ^^ - ^

« O, they hae aome^ guess at that frae her aia hints
afoie. It is thought they bae earned her after 'that
Ston of a ereatare, wba wrought sae nmekle v/m
^hofot the house* It is fer him they are a' loddog^ Ipr
they ken weeU that where they get the tane tbey will
fat theiatJMr.''

*' Wbewi la lliat the gate o% Bessie ? Why, thein,
|he awfo* stqry is^noather mair nor less than this,. that
J^ Leddy tnu^ made a 'lopem^t, i» they ca't, and ra^
Ikway after a blackguard jotteryman. Hech-wowl wae'jS

THBjHMWsaorTiimBuuiKBAfles. soft

iMfteiftoMOKimitof 1 B«t tlttt'B jiut tkft gate I Wken
'll»4al 9eli in the p^dnt o' hb fingei^ 1m will
iJivvsiiftUBiiaillliiiid. Ayv be wsnta but a hair
to m^he m tedier o^ <my day t I hee aeen her » braw
MHPf lm;>lrat etieB.then I feared ihe waa.devotod t0
daatfiictiooy te ihe aye mockit at leUgioOf BeMie» and
tlp^s ae ^B :good mark of a yoang bedy. Aad ahe
ande a* ita servanta her cBMiiiea ; and tUakyom thcaa
geod 'HwaV prayem weie a' to blaw away i' the wind*
and be aae wi^ regarded ? Ma, oa» Beaaie, jny wo-
aaa% take ye this mark baith o' our ain baiiss aod
ithar lQik'a*-If ever ye see a young body that disrer
gmdB the Sabbathy and makea.amock at the ordinancea
o^iaUgpooy ye will never eee.that body cone to mnckle
good^*- A braw hand our Leddy has made o' her gibes
and jewa at religion, and her mockeries o' the poor per-
secoted hill-folk I— ««nnk down by decrees into the yecy
dre^i o' sin and misery I run away after a scollion ]**

^ Fy, fy, Wattie, how can ye say see? It was weel
keon'd that she hatit him wi* a perfect and mprta)
hatred^and tried to make away wi* him mae ways no;ir
•ne."

** Aha, Bessie ; but nipping and scarting is Soota
folk's wooing ; and though it is but right that we sus*
pend our judgments, there will naebody persuade me
if ahe be found alang wiV the creature^ but thatahe haa

,•

Mrit * '''''MB<iMlMM>'i^l'UIWi«.

iki

Aaaks, withoot help either frae fturf tor MrvMA;* *''3^*
^ rU never Ml^e m a ^Mhg of any WofKttflir^liioni,
iM he tt leddy weel -op in ymn." >ui. ;

' << Od kelp ye, Bessie ! y^tdinnli ken tlie'-wtMlA
€orrvplniilare. Hieheet o'tus ^'t^fa«nMi'tb*d«Mtt^
ire nfte^betfierthaa tUstt^M sheep^-^hsi iirill^e«%r lllitt
tite'WsyliMck te ^mr ainpttBloresr tnd of'a^'thbgi
ttade tf- mertt^ 'fleshy a wicked -Wotauui is llie Waiilf:^*!
' ' *^ Akdc'fridsy !' we get the hiame o' nrw^le tiM
we little deserve^ Biit,'\?«ttie,k^ ^fe a geyii^ dtH^
fMi'^ani abcmt'the dendis and the 'eaves t/ imt^i^ ;
for liie Leddy kens lliem af geym we^H; gkid ^HMlfi
tWte)^ iMmder meikswad come mir wtty, it tuaf^
gang a wanr gate. It wad tocher a* oar'hoiinyiassM'^
^ Ay, weel I wat, Bessie, that^s hae lee. Aiitf iiow,-
when ye bri^ine4unindVt, rmtair mista'eii tf I dfdna
heflt^ a qeatuTB np in the Brockholes this' taofiMff,*
dSdingas if BOmelUng war cutting its throat.' If^ioir
a* the hairs stand on my head when I think it may^diti'
been^ our Iseddy, and the droich of a creatmie mtnkleiv
ing her. I took it for a battle of wuleats, and wisfei^
tdiey'ii^htim'oat aiieanillier'stlirapples; hot when^
I liiildr Oft it again^ they ivar anco likfe some o* i&^
Ledd^^B'aneerthly fiMapeanw.*^ ' ^^

' ^llis pceseaedbejdKmtWy^Mtie'! filustey^^^^^^

THE I9OWVIB OF THE BLACK HAQOS. 906

Oil yoorlHHUiet*— tak' yourttaff la your baadi and gang
and aae lAmt H is."

^ Bhameia' me, if I danr gang, Beaaie.'*

" Hout, Wattie, trust in the Lord.'*

^ Aweela aae I do. But ane a no to throw himaell
ower a Jiinn, and trust that tlie Lord will kep him in a
Vbaket. And. it's nae muckle safer for an anld stiff
man iike me to gang away out to a wild remote place,
where there is ae hody murdering another.— What is
that I hear^ Bessie ? Haud the lang ton'gtoe o' you, and
rin to the door, and see what noira that is."

Bessie ran to the door, but soon returned, with her
moudi wide open, and her eyes set in her head.

^< It ia them, Wattie I it is them I His presence be
about us I What will we do ?"

«<Them? whatenthem?"

** Why, that blackguard creature, coming here, lead-
ing our Leddy by the hair o' the head, and yerking her
wi' • stick. I am terrified out o' my wits. What will
we do?"

- ** We'll see what they ea^f" said Wattie, manifestly
in as great terror as his wife ; and by a natural impulse,
or at a last resource, he opened the Bible, not know-
ing what he did, and then hurried on his spectacles';
but before he got two leores turned orer, the two
eatered,---a frightful-looking cov^le indeed. Mero-
AmIt, Tdth hie did withered face^ and ferret eyes, leadF-

<•■!■.

306 TIU6 gHBFawp'g cAijamim

ingthe Lsdy of >^liedliope by die loBg lMur> wiikh
was mixed with grey, and wboee &ce waa idl Uoalad
with wounds and bniiBe0» and having stripea of.Uaod
on ha: gannenta.

'' How'a tUal—Howa this, ain?** aaid Wa4tie
Blythe.

**■ Cloae that book, and I will tell you, goodauin,
said Meiedach.

M I can hear what yon hae to say wi* the benkopen,
air," said Wailie, taming oy^ the leaves, pretendiAg to
look for some particiilar passage, bat apparimtliy not
knowing what he was doii^. << It is a shamefa' bnsip^ess
this ; but aome will hae to answer for'u My L^ddy^
I am unco griered to see yon in sic a plight. Ye hse
aorely been dooms sair left to yourselL"'

The Lady shook her head, ottered a feeUe hollow
laugh, and faced her eyes on Merodadbu Bnt soch a
look I It almost frightened the simple aged couple put
of their aensea. It was not a lode of love nor of bailed
exdusively ; neither was it of desire or disgust, hat it
was a comlnnation of them all* It was such a look as
one fiend would cast on another, in whose everlasting
destruction he rejoiced. Wattie was glad, to take Ids
eyes from sudi count^niances, and look into the Bible,
that finn fonndation of aU his hopes and all his joy.

<^ I request that you will shut that book, sir," said
ihe bomUe cneature ; << or if you do not, I willahnt

rHB-flBOWlUB or TBB BLAOK HAOOft. 307

«l lor y«a witk s tengeaace ;*' and with that lie sebed
|l^ ttfd flmg it agimst the walL Bessie uttered a
mt miii> tad W«ttie was^foite paralysed ; aad although
be seemed disposed to run after his host friend^ as he
italled it, ihe helfish looks of the Brownie interposed,
and glued him to his seat.

...^ Hear what I hare to say firrt^"* said the creature,

^ and then pore your fill on that preeions hook of

if^fts%^ One concern at a time is enough. I came to

>ida yvn a serrice. Here, take this carsed, wretched

■ ^cmaaoLf iiriiom you style your Lady, and deliver her

'^ to the lawful auUiorities, to be restored to her hus-

'baad apd her place in society. She has followed one

ihat'hatee her, and never said one kind word to her in

his life ; and though I have beat her like a dog, still she

^efogs to me^ and will not depart, so enchanted is she

^ii^ the laudable purpose of cutting my throat* Tell

^lyoiir masto; and her brother, that I am not to be bur-

idfcd witfiAeir maniac. I have scourged-— I have

ipumed and kicked her, afflicting her night and day,

and yet iirom tny side ^e will not dqwrt. Take her.

<C3aim ihe mwvd in full, and your fortune is made ;

<Md fio ^urewell r

!' The creature went ffK«y, and the moment his back

was turnedy ^e Lady fell a-screaming and struggling,

iike ene in an agony, and, in spite of all fhe old couple's

■^^ifeaunioas) die forced herself out of their haadB> and ran

after tbe nBtreating Merodach. Wfaeik h^mtW.bmfit
wo^d not "be, be tnni^ iipon hefv and, Aaf t/nA Me#
with bin stick, strock her down ; and^'^ot eotttelfttitlli
thfl^ 6otttintied to maltreat ber in- Biieii a BMumeiv tt
tc dl appearance wooM bave killed twenty ovdiniitf
persons. The poor deroted dame coiM- do nodnfl^
but now kiid then utter a sqaeak like a balf-wwtiad
cat, and writhe and grovel on ^e. sward, ^1 Wailtk
and his wife came up, and withheld her tonnentmr itilatiL
father Violence. He then bonnd -her'tianda behlad
h^ back' with a strong cord, and ddivered' h^ m^
more to the cbwge of the old oovple, who c<AniR?tsd
to hokllier hj that means, and take her home* : * ^.'^
Wattie %^ tohamed ta take her into the bitl^ biK
ledh^ itttd 6ne of the ^nt-hovuses, whither he braug^
her brother to receive her. The man of the law was
manifest^ vexed at her reappearance, aiid scnq^d^not
to testify Us dissati^sfcction ; for when Wattie told hi^i
how the wretch had abused his sister, and that,' had ik
not beea for BeSsie^sinterf^pence and his own, theLady
would hkve been killed outright, he said, ^< MThy, Wd*
ter, it is' a^great pity thait he did noi kili her outtigfai.
What good can her life now do to her^ or of what vate
is her life' to^wy m«km^ living ? Aftar on& has Hved
%& tift^^rnee dl connected with them^ the sooaer'tfaeyove
tak«tt ofFltiie bett^; ' > :A

- 1*ba lAkti h<n(r0ver,'paii ^ki Walter dowaAfai8:tmK>

THE JCPI^UKVU QW ;TH^ «I#A«K H^^i^ 9^9

l^^ypfyi^.jiifTl^ia grefti foirtiui^ (ox Qoe like hupi in
I^Mm ^|r»}. and AOt to dwell longer on this iinnatural
«le«3rj|.XidNdl only addy mery shortlyy that the Lady of
yji^rihope eoon made her escape once more, and flewi
faif 'drawii'byiui iireaistible chann, to her tormentor*
HavfriflKidft Ifkoked no more ^fter her ; and the last time
f^M was seen alivet it was following the uncouth creav
pBfOkMf die Wnfeeir of Daur, weary, wounded^ and lamc^
Hib])e.iie waa aU the way beating her, as a piece of ex-
^flllesl jBlmiBeraent. A few days after that, her body
nv^fovAd aniong Bosae wild hagg%.in a. place called
Cir9QlEr4>nm, by a party of the persecuted Covenanten
that wera in hiding there^ soma of the very men whom
ahe liad:eiterted herself to destroy, and who had been
diiiBnylike Dayid ^f old, to pray for ja curse and earth?
ly punishment upon her. They buried her like a dog
at the Yette of Keppel, and rolled three huge stones
iqion her grave, which are lying there to this day.
When they found her corpse, it was mangled and
wounded in a most shocking manner, the fiendish crea-
ture haying manifestly tormented her to death. He
W9B never more seen or heard of in this kingdom,
diongh all that country-side was kept in terror for him
many years afterwards ; and to this day, they will tell
yofu of Th£ Brownub of the Black Haggs^ wUph
title he seems to have acquired after hie disappearpnoe*
This story was uM to me by an old man named

310 TBmtaBnaKo'% cAUoriua.

Adam HalUday, whose great-graiidfiidier> Thomas Hal*
Hday, was one of those that fomid the body and buried
ik It is many years since I heard it ; but, howerer
ridiculous it may appear, I refcnember it made a dread-
fill impression on my young mind. I never heard any
story like it, save one of an old fox»hound that pur-
sued a fox through the Grampians for a fortnight, and
when at last discovered by the Duke of Aliiole's people,
neither of them could run, but the hound was still con-
l^uing to walk after the fox, and wb&k the lattet lay
down, the o^er lay down beside him, and io<^ed a^
him steadily all the while, though unable to do tarn
the least bann. The passion of inveterate malice se^ns
to have influenced tbese two exactly alike. But, up^
on the whole, I scarcely believe the tale can be tfue* *

• •/

foa ukiBo 09 wnfaBouc 311

'■ -It. ■ -■-'■.■

CHAPTER XI.

THE LAIRD OF WINBROLM.

M Ha¥E ycm heard any thing^ of the apparition whicb
has been aeen about Wtnefaolm Place Y' said die Do-^
miiiie.

.^ Na, I never beard o' sic a tbiqg as yet," quoth the
smith ; <' but I wadna wonder muekle that the news
should tun out to be true."

The Dominie shook his head, and uttered a long
<< h'm-h'm-h'm/' as if he knew more than he was at
liberty to teU.

<< Weel, that beats the world/' said the smith, as he
gare over blowing the bellows, and looked anxiously-
in the Dominie's face.

The Dominie shook his head again.

The smith was now in the most ticklish quandary ;
eager to learn particulars, that he might spread the as*
tounding news through the whole village, and the rest
of the parish to boot, but yet afraid to press the in«»
quiry,' for fear the cautious Dominie ehould take the

312 THE shbphi^rd's jSAi.K.ytmv>

alann of being reported as a tattler, and keep all to
himself. So the smith, after waiting till the wind-pipe
of the great bellows ceased its rushing noise, covened
the gloss neatly up with a mixture of small coals, culm,
and cinders ; and then, perceiving that nothing more
was forthcoming from the Dominie, he began blowing
again with more energy than before — changed his hand
—put the other sooty one in his breeches-pocket*—
leaned to the horn — looked in a careless manner to Umb
window, or rather gazed on vacancy, and alwaya now
and then stole a sly look at the Dominie's face. It wiub
quite immovable. His cheek was leaned on his op^.
hand, and his eyes fixed on the glowing fire. .It. was
Tery teasing thi^ for poor Cliakum the smith. Bpt
what could he do ? He took out his glowing iron, ai^.
made a ^ower of Gre sweep through the whole smithy,
whereof a good part, as intended, sputtered upon the
Dominie ; but that imperturbable person only shielded,
his face with his elbow, turned his shoulder half roimd,
and held his peace. Thump, thump ! dink, clink I
went the hammer for a space ; and then when the iron,
was returned to the fire, << Weel, that beats the world !''
quoth the smith.

. « What is this that beats the world, Mr Clinkum ?"
adced tibe Dominie, with the most cool and provokii^
indifierence.
'< ThiB story about, the apparition," .quoth the smith.

4

VOL LAnU> OF WINSHOUC 318

«< WiMH Mirjr ?** Mod the Dominie,

tUm mDf diis pervenity was hardly to be enda*
T^ mm in • learned Dominie, who, with all his cold
iMHeMiee of feeling, was sitting toasting himself at
• gMi'amidiyfire. The smith felt this, (for he was a
wttm. iif aeole feding,) and therefore he spit npon his
hMi «Ad fdl ardinking and pelting at the stithy with
both Bfknt and resignation, saying within himself,
^ Theae ^dominie bodies just beat the world J''

^Whait story ?" reitmitted the Dmninie. << Fm* my
part, I related no story, nor have ever given assent to.
aMiief in such a story ihat any man lias heard. Neyer-
ihdew, from die results of ratiocination, c<mclusions
msf bo formed, though not algebraically, yet cwpor-
9Mljf, by c<n>stitnting a quantity, which shall be equi-
flltttto the difference, subtracting the less from the
gi^Brtur, and striking a balance in order to get rid of.
mf iHtabigaity or paradox."

At the l<mg adverb, nevertheless, the smi^ gave oyer
Mowing, and pricked up his ears ; but the de&nitioR
mtet beyond his comprehension.

**, Te ken, that just beats the whole world for deep-:
neaa^** said the smith; and again began blowing. the

*^ Yon know, Mr Clinkum," continued the Dominip}
<< ihat a proposition is an assertion of some diaftiBct
truth, which only becomes manifest by demonstration.

VOL. I. o

314 THS iHEPHlfiRl>*8 CAIjBNDAII.

A corollary is an obvious, or easily infeired ^nse-
qiieiice ^a proposition ; while an hypothesis is ti -mp-
position, or concession made, during the process of de«
monstration. Now^ do yon take rne along wi^ yMi?
Because, if you do not, it is needless to proceed.**

** Yes, yes, I tmderstand yon middling wed ; but I
wad like better to hear what other folks say tikftmt k
than yon."

" And why so ? Wherefore would yon rather hear
another man's demonstration than mine ?** mid the
Dominie^ sternly^

<< Became, ye keti, ye jnst beat the whole WdrM f^r
words,*' 4noth the smith.

« Ay, ity 1 that is to say, wor<te without wifidom,'*
said the Dominie, rising and stepping away. ^ Well,
well, every man to bis i^ipheir^, and the isfmith to the bel*
lows."

<< Ye*re quite mistaen, master," cried th^ lilfittilldHill*
him ; << it isna the want o' wisdom in yoti that plagues
me, it is the dwerpiush o't^*^

This soothed the Dmninie, who returned, aftd Mid,
mildly— *< By the by, Clbkum, I want a leister of
your making; for I see thet^e is no other tradesfiMoi
makes them so well. A five-grained one make it | 1^
your own price."

<< Very weel, sir. When will you be needing it ?"

** Not till die end of dose-lune."

TBS LAIRD OF WIHSHOLM. 315

*^ Ayi fe mxy gu tbe three auld anes do till then/'

<< What do yoa wish to insiniiate, sir ? Would you
infer, bocaue I have thiee leisters, that therefore I am
a Weaker of the laws ? That I, who am placed here as
a pattmi and monitor of the young and rising genera-
tiMif shauld he the first to set them an example of
insohordination ?"

** Na, hut, ye ken, that just beats the world for
words I but we ken what we kea, for a' that, master/'

<< Tou had better take a little care what you say,
Mr Clinkum ; just a little care. I do not request you
to tAe particular care, for of that your tongue is in-
capable, but a rery little is necessary* And mark
yo«-«*^ion't go to say that I said this or that about
a ghost, or mentioned such a ridiculous M;ory/'

« The crabbitnees o' that body beats the world !"
said the smidi to himself, as the Dominie went halting
Imtteward.

The yery next man that entered tha smithy door
waa no other than John Broadcast, the new Laird's
load, who had also been hind to thekte laird for many
yeurs^ and who had no sooner said his errand than ^
sttttth addressed him dius :-— << Hare j^otc ever seen this
^lott that there is such a noise about?"

^* Ghost I Na, goodness be tbankit, I never saw a
ghost in my life, save ai»ce a wraitk What ghost do
you mean ?"

316. TBS SHEFHXBIl's GAUW9AS.

<< So y<m never saw nor heard teUof any 9f/pmtisffi
about Wineholm Pkce, lately ?" r, -i^ vj^'^v

« NO) I haa reason to be thankfu' I bave n^d^^t.^nb
<< Weel, that beats the world I Whow, iBaik»th9{rj;^
are sair in the dark! Do yon no ibink tbili)S(itre»#i§?
can things in nature, as folk no coming fidrly t^^i^iW
ends, John T* > ^ c **

<< Goodness he wi' ns I Ye gar a' the hairs ^tm^

head cmtfs Bian, What's dia* yon ve saying^r'V. ''

<< Had ye never ony suspicions o' that kitidi JobiijiK'

«No;I caaaasay that Ihad.'' vHT

'< None in the least? Weel, that beats theilwoiUir'

^<0, baud yo» tongue, baud your tongaaF/ >We

hae great kvasonto hethankfu' that we are aa we are4i'

" How as we are ?" uu. ti new

<' That we arena stod» or st<Mies, or hmte Beasts,

as the Minister o' Xraquair says^ But I hopa iniio^B

there is nae siccan a thing about my masters )rii|cadK-

an unearthly visitor/' * f d iiad

The smith shook his bead, and uttffl«d « lengehaftt,

hem, hem I He had felt the power^l efiectiof that

himself, and wished to make the same appealt?t<|fi»lbd

feelings and longings after information of Jchti. BoDad*

cast. The bait took ; for the lat^it spark ef «8npe^-

tion, not to say any thing about curiosity, was kindled

in the heart of honest Joki, and there being' ai»^wi6ih

the head to eoimtei«ct ii, 4|e portemous hht lMd>ils

jnm^iaasD'OmnnsRHotM. 817

Mf^WUafi \^la^M ef» tt^led in his head,, and his
Tisage grew long, assuniing something of the hoe of
dried dk/f ^ winter* •. ^ Heeh, man, bat that's an aw-
Mito'itcfi^rexclaimedhe. «« FoUu hae great reason
t»ih&^kimAM that thef are as they are. It is truly
itti|hv«6me story/'

' ^ Ye ken^ it just beats the world for that," quoth the
ttlith.- -

<< And is kresliy thought that this Laird made away
wifiiiMttiEmldmaster?'' said John. . .

The smith shook his head again, and garre a strait
wiik^witii'his'eT^s;

3lV^^ Wcisty I hae great reason to be thankia' that I
^Ikmn* heard siccan a story as that I'' said John. ^ Wha
was it tauld you a' about it ?"

.i^i^oR was nae less a man than our raathewmatical
dnis^'* said the smith ; ^ he that kens a' thkigs^ and

L^pMve a proposition to the nineteenth part of a
hair. But he is terrified the tale should spread ; and
>flwi<i'fiw'ii yemannna say a word about it.''
md^ Na; na; I hae great reason to-be thankfii' I can
ddsep a secret as weel as the maist feck o'. men, and
^bettet than the maist feck o' women. What did he
fty ? Tell us a' that he said."

i jiMit ia not so easy to repeat what he say% for he
•haivsae m<my lang^nebbit wordsy which just beat the
woiM. But he saidy though it was only a suppositiouj^

SIS THB 8HSPHSRD*S CALBKDAB.

jet it was easily made manifesl by positiTe demoostiar
tion."

« Did you ever hear the like o' thak I Now, havena
we reason to be thankfn' that we are as we are ? Did
he say that it was by poisoa that he was taken off, or
that he was strangled ?**

<< Na; I thought he said it was by a collar, or a eol-
lary, or something to that purpose."

<< Then, it wad appear there is no doubt of it ? I
think, the Doctor has reason to be thankfu' that he's
no taken up. Is not that strange ?**

<< O, ye ken, it just beats the world P

<<He desenres to be torn at yornig horses' tails,* said
the ploughman.

<< Ay, or nippit to death with red-*hot pinchers,"
quoth the smith.

<< Or harrowed to death, like the children of Am-
mcA,'' Goptinued the ploughman.

^^ Na, ril teU you what should be done wT him*—
he should just be dodked and fired like a farcied horse,**
quoth the smith. ** Od help ye, man, I could beat the
world for laying on a proper poonishment."

Jolm broadcast went home full of terror and dis-
may. He told his wife the story in a secret —she told
the dairymaid with a t^old degree of secrecy ; and
so ere long it reaped the ears of Dr Dayington himself,
the New l4drd,,as he mt», called. He was unusually

TK6 LAIRD OF WINEHOLM. 319

affected* 9l bearing such a terrible accusation against
bimself ; and tbe Dominie being mentioned as the pro-
pagator of the rep<H:t» a message was forthwith dis-
patched to desire him to come up to the Place, and
speak with the Laird. The Dominie suspected there
was bad blood a^brewing against him ; and as h^ had
too much self-importance to think of succumbing to
any man alive, be sent an impertinent answer to the
JLaijrd 3 message, bearings that if Dr Davington had any
business with him, he would be so good as attend at
his class-room when he dismissed his scholars.

When this message was delivered, the Doctor, being
ajboaost beside himself with rage, instantly dispatched
two village constables with a warrant to seize tbe Do-
B^ni^, and bring him before him ; for the Doctor was
a justice of the peace. Accordingly, the poor Dominie
wa3 seized at the head of his pupils, and dragged away,
crutch and all, up before the new Laird, to answer for
such an abominable slander. The Dominie denied
every thing concerning it, as indeed he might, save
having asked the smith the simple question, << if he
had heard ought of a ghost at the Place ?" But he re-
fused to tell why he asked that question. He had his
own reasons for it, he said, and reasons that to him were
;quite sufficient ; but as he was not obliged to disclose
tb^Wy neither would he.

The smith was then sent for, who declared that tbe

390 THC raODVEAD S CMStaMOL

DomiBie had told hiflt of Ae giMMt liaii^ 9tA?MBH
murder committed, wludi ho aAed a rtuM aiianSSi
fi0fi> and taid it wall chfUm^ uhI eiinlf iiferid flft
it was done Vy a collar. ^'^

How the Dominie did stonn I HeeretttwTdiBtBffiy^
ened to knock down the smitli witli hit crbtbh i^^
for the slander; — he cared not for that ndr the Doc£8r
a pin, — hot for the total sabvenioii of Mb gniAdtlMh
tratkm frbm geometry; and he therefore denomimcd
the smith's head M« logarithm to member cney ij&
proach oC which I do not understand the gist, Imt i&i
appropriation of it pleased the Dominie ezceedhiigf y;
made him chuckle, and put him in better httmddf (St
a good while. It was in rain that he tried to pirb%
that his words applied only to the definition of a'^t6^'
blem in g^metry, — he could not make himself un£jf<:
stood ; and the smith maintaining his point firmly, iiiiif
apparently with conscientious tntth, appeanlhces Srere
greatly against the Dominie, and the Doctor prbnom-
ced him a malevolent and dangerous person. ' ~ '""^

^ O, ye ken, he just beats the world for that,** qaaiE
the smith*

<« I a malerolent and dangerous person, sir !" said
the Dominie, fiercely, and altering his crutch from one
place to another of the floor, as if he could not gel'a
place to set it on. *< Dost thou call me a malevolent
and dangerous person, sir ? What then art thou ? If

^tfg^iSf^ilfmiim X uriUtiBll ibse. Add » cipher to a
gpj^%nri^,yid wlMi does (bat make ? Ninaty yon

1^ Wh.y.^7^ ^^ ^^^^ P^ ^ cipbOT oAotna a nise, and
what does Aat make ? ha — ^ba — ha — ^I have yoa there
eiae^j m higher geomeUyl for aay the
mtf degrees ia radiii% then the siaa of ninety
iifigf^ ia^eqaal ta the xadiusy so the secant of (^ that
i%jfiidd»-nothi«g|, aa the boys call iv is radiiis» and S0
la^^ QOhSiAe ,of Oi, The yersed sine of 90 degree^ in
1^^ (that Is nine with a cipher added» yoo knows)
a^ Jtjbe Ycarsed sine of 180 degrees is the diameter ;
thp^^efconrse the sine increases from 0 (that is cipher
qC', QQtbibg) till, it becomes radius, and then it daft
creases till it becomes nothing. After this you note it
UaB.q^L the.', ccaniraxy side of the diameteiv and conse?
^Plju^atlyi if positi7e before, is negative now> so that ijl
mumt end in 0, or a cipher above a nine at most." ..^x.

. .f^.jjfus luuntelligible jargon is out of place hereby I^
D$l||[iupi^ ; and if you can show no better reasons isir
raising such an abominable falsehood, in represeutipig
n^ as an incendiary and murderer, I slmll procure you
a lodging in the bouse of correction."

, /< Why» sir, the long and short of the matter is. this
-7-J. only asked at that fellow there, that logaritJbm ^
stupidity I if he had heard aught of a gbo^t baling bp^ ,

■ . ' . *

seen about Winebolm Place. I added nothing fartji^ ,

O 2 . r ■ '^.

^22 THE SilEPMCAD'S CAI«£XDAK.

either positive or negmtive. Now, do you iomt on my
reasons for asking such a question ?**

^ I insist on having them."

** Then what will yon say, sir, when I inform yon,
and declare my readiness to depone to the truth of it,
that I saw the ghost myself? — ^yes, sir — ^that I saw the
ghost of yonr late worthy father-in-law myself, sir;
and though I said no such thing to that decimal frac-
tion, yet it told me, sir — yes, the spirit of your father*
in-law told me, sir, that you are a murderer.*'

<< Lord, now, what think ye o' that?" quoth the smith.
<< Ye had hotter hae letten him alane ; for od, ye ken^
he's the deevil of a body that ever was made ! He just
beats the world !"

The Doctor grew as pale as death, but whether from
fear or rage, it was hard to say. '< Why, sir, you are
mad I stark, raving mad,'* said the Doctor ; << therefore
for your own credit, and for the peace and comfort of
my wife and myself, and our credit among our retain-
ers, you must unsay every word that you have now
said."

<< ril just as soon say that the parabola and the ellip-
sis are the same," said the Dominie ; « or that the dia«
meter is not the longest line that can be drawn in the
circle. And now> sir, since you have forced me to di-
vulge what I was much in doubt about, I have a great

ram uobd op wiKBHauc. S2S

mind to baTe tke old Lttrd*0 gimye opened to-niglity and
hftTe the body iupoeled before witneooos.**

^ If yo«dare dktmb the euictaary of the gi«TO»'* said
the Doctor Tdieiiieiitly» ^ or with your unhallowed
handa toadi the remainB of my yenerable and rev^wl
pfodeeeeaor, it had been better for yon, and aD idio
pake the attempt, that yon never had been bonou If
B0| then for ray wke, (or the sake of my wife, the sole
dangbto' of the man to idiom yon have all been obliged,
l9t this abominaUe and malicious calumny go no far-
ther, bat put it down ; I pray of you to put it down, as
yen would yalue your own advantage."

«< I have seen him, and spoke with him — that I aver,"
smd the Dominie. ^ And shall I tell you wliat he said
tome?'*

<< No, no I I'll hear no more of such absolute and dis-
gusting nonsense," said the Laird.

<< Then, since it hath come to this, I will declare it
in the face of the whole world, and pursue it to the last,"
said the Dominie, <' ridiculous as it is, and I confess that
it is even so. I hare seen your fiAtber-in-law within the
last twenty hours ; at least a being in his form and ha-
biliments, and having his aspect and voice. And he
told me, that he believed you were a very great scoun-
.drel, and that you had helped him off the stage of time
in a great haste, for fear of the operation of a will, which
he had just executed, very much to your prejudice. I

834 TfiK 8HEPHJBICD*8 C4UBKDiJU

WIS sbmeirlwt aghast, Kut Tentnied to renmky tiba^fM
must rarely hare been sensible whether yoa viiirdn»4
him or not, and in what way. He replied^ that. he. was
not absolutely (pertain, for at the time yon put Inqr
down, he was much in his cnstomary way of nightSs-r^f
▼ery dmnk; hut that he greatly suapeeted you h^
hanged him, for,- ever since he had died, he had beeyi,
troubled with a severe crick in his neck. Harmg s^e^.
my late worthy patron's body deposited in the eoffi>,
and afterwards consigned to the grave, these things
overcame me, and a kind of mist came over my senses;
but I heard him saying as he withdrew, what a pity it
was that my nerves couM not stand this disdosuine.
Now, for my own satisftu^tion, I am resolved thatto^
morrow, I shall raise the village, with the two minist^
tit the head pf the multitude, and have the body, ^^
particularly the neck of the deceased, minutely ]%•
spected."

<< If' you do so, I shall make one of the numbetr'
ludd the Doctor. << But I am resolved that in the fir^
place every mean shall be tried to prevent a scene of
madness and absurdity se disgraceful to a well-regik*
lated village, and a sober community.''

^< There is but one direct line that can be followed,
and any other would either form an acute or obtuse
angle," said the Dominie ; << therefore I am resolvedto
proceed right forward, on mathematical principles;-' aid

airaj'ik Wenf, ^kip^niig im liis crutcb, to arotne tlie vil-
hl^iiif^ to the scmtiiiy.

- Th# snifdi iieitiaiiied behmd, concerting with the
Do^^tor, hbW to controvert the Dominie's profound
seh^er of uidrovdmg the dead; and certainly the
silnith^ plan, i^ewed profesdonally, was not amiss. <* O,
]fe haiy sir, we maim jnst gie him another hedt, and tfy
to saften him to reason, for he's just as stubborn atf
Sf tdridrk ir^n. He beats the world for thai."
'While the two were in confabulation, Johnston, th^
old house-servant, came in and said to the Doctor —
••"Sir, your servants are going to leave the house, evefy
one^ this night, if you cannot fall on some means to di-
vert tliem from it. The old Laird is, it seems, risen
again, and come back among them, and they are all in
the utmost consternation. Indeed, they are quite out
of their reason. He appeared in the stable to Broad-
cast, who has been these two hours dead with terror,
but is now recovered, and telling such a tale down stairs,

flys never was heard from the mouth of man.''
» " Send him up here," said the Doctor. " I will

silence him. What does the ignorant clown mean by

joining in this unnatural clamour ?"

' John came up, with his broad bonnet in his hand,

shut the door with hesitation, and then felt twice with

his hand if it really was shut. " Well, John,'' said the

Doctor, " what absUrd lie is this that you are vemding

V"

of his

\¥¥«ilttTey<m

mht

are as we

afaghosi

Wbatie-
? Confess then
Tended a delibe-

r,I

to be thankfii* ''— <-

<^Tknl I never tanki a ddibaate lee in my life. My
Hnster came and ^ake to me in the stable ; but
whedier it was his ghaist or himsell — a good angel or
ahad ane» I hae leason to be thankfa J never said ; for

^ Now, pray let i|9 hear frcnn that sage tongue of
yours, so full of sublime adages, what this doubtful be-
ing said to you ?"

<< I wad rather be excused, an it were your honour's
will, and wad hae reason to be thankfu'."

THE LAIRD OF WIKEHOLM. 327

^ And wliy shoiild yon decline telling this ?**

<< Because I ken ye wadna believe a word o\ it is
akscan a strange story. O sirs, but folks hae muokle
reason to be thankfm' that they are as they are !*'

'< Well, oat with thia strange story of yonrs. I do
ihot promise to credit it, but shall give it a palaent hear-
ing, provided yon swear that there is no forgery in it."

<< Weel, as I was snppering the horses the night, I
was dressing my late kind master's favourite mare, and
I was jnst thinking to mysell, An he had been leeving, I
wadna hae been my lane the night, for he wad hae been
standing over me cracking his jokes, and swearing at roe
in his good-natnred hamely way. Aye, but he's gane to
his lang account, thinks I, and we poor frail dying crea-
tures that are left ahind hae mackle reason to be thank*
fU' that we are as we are ; when I looks up, and behold
there's my auld master standing leaning against the tri-

f

^a^, as he used to do, and looking at me. I canna but
say my heart was a little astonndit, and maybe lap up
through my midriff into my breath-bellows — I couldna
say ; but in the strength o' the Lord I was enabled to
retain my senses for a good while. ' John Broadcast,'
said he, with a deep and angry tone, — < John Broadcast,
what the d — 1 are you thinking about ? You are not
currying that mare half. What a d — d lubberly way
of dressing a horse is that ?'

i2B THE 8H£PHERD*S CALENDAR.

* •._

. ■■-. ^

. L >4

« i Lr— d make us thankfa'^ ntaflter V bbjb ly < are tou
there?'

■ ■ .1:.

« ( Where else would you have me to he at this hoiur
of the night, old hlockhead ?* says he.

<< < In another hame than this^' master/ says I ; < hut
I fear me it is nae good ane, that ye are sae soon tired
ot.

<< ' A d^-d had one, I assure you,' says he.

<< < Ay, hut, master,' says I, < ye hae muckle reason
to he thankfu' that ye are as ye are.'

" ' In what respects, dotard ?* says he.

^ < That ye hae liberty to come out o't a start i^ow

and then to get the air,' says I ; and oh, my heart was

tair for him when I thought o' his state I and though I

was thankfu' that I was as I was, my heart and flesh

hegan to fail me, at thinking of my being speaking face

to face wi' a being frae the unhappy place. But out

he hriks again wi' a grit round o' swearing about the

*■ f^
mare being ill keepit ; and he ordered me to cast iny

coat and curry her weel, for that he had a lang journey

to take on her the mom.

" ' You take a journey on her I' says I, * I fear my
new master will dispute that privilege with you, for he.
rides her himsell the mom.'

" ' He ride her I' cried the angry spirit ; and then it"
burst out into a lang string of imprecations, fearsome to
hear, against you, sir ; and then added, < Soon soon shall ,

i,*k^

S29

hebelefeDediridiliiedast! Hie dof^ I llie paricide !
fint to betnrj mj duld, and then to pot down myadf !
— Sib ht flUI not escape! he ahaD not escape!' cried
he widi soch a hdOiah growl, that I £unted, and heard

« Weel, that heats the world I" quoth the smith ;«< I
wad hae thoo^ the mare wad hae Inppen ower. yird
and stanoy or £ii*ea down dead wi* fright."

^ Na, na," said John, ^ in place o' that, whenever
she heard him &' apswearing, she was sae ^ad that she
HbU a-mckering."

«« 1^ bnt that beats the haill wwld a'thegither !"
qnodi the smith. ^^ Then it has been nae ghaist ava^
fe m$j depend on that."

^ I Httle wat what it was," said John, << bat it was
a beittg in nae good or happy state o' nund, and is a
wamingtonsa' howm:ackle reason we hae to be thank-
fti' that we are as we are.*'

- The DoctiHT pretended to laugh at the absurdity of
John's narratire, bnt it was with a ghastly and donbt^
fid expression of countenance, as though he thought the
story far too ridiculous for any clodpple to have con*
trired out of his own head ; and forthwith he dismissed
the two dealers in the marvellous, with very little cere-
Bumy, the one protesting that the thing beat the world,
and the other that they had both reason to be thankfd'
ihat ^y were as they were.

3S0 THB shxpherd's oausswlxu

The next moniiiig thfi Yilkgeny smdl and grea^
awembled at an early liaiir to witneaa the lifting of the
body of their late laird, and headed by the established
and diMenting clergymen, and two surgeons, they pro*-
ceeded to the tomb,' and soon extracted the splendid
coffin, which they opened with all due cantioo and cere-
mony. But instead of the murdered body of their late
benefactor, which they expected in good earnest to find,
there was nothing in the coffin but a layer of gravel, of
about the weight of a corpulent man !

The clamour against ihe new laird then rose all at
once into a tumult that it was imposuble to check, every
eoo declaring aloud that he had not only murdered their
benefiBu^tor, but, for fear of the discovery, had raisod the
body, and given, or rather sold it, for dissection. The
dung was nxA to be tolerated I so the mob proceeded
ia &body up to Wineholm Place, taiake out their poor
deluded lady, and bum the Doctor and his basely ac-
quired habitation to ashes. It was not till the multi-
tude had surrounded the house, that the ministers and
two or three other gentlemen could stay them, wbifih
they only did by assuring the mob that they would
bciug out the Doctor before their eyes, and deliver him
up to justice. This pacified the tbrcmg; but on inquiry
^ the haU, it was found that the Doctor had gone off
early that momin§^ so that nothing further could bo

. THS iiAiBD or winsbolm; 331

done for tha pTMent. But the ooffiii> filled with graTel,
me hid vp in the aiele> end kept open for inepectioii.

Nednng eomld new exceed the eonstemation of the
mple ▼ilkgers ef Wineholm at these dark and myste-
ims erenfek BnsineaB, labour, and employment of
efery eoit, were at a stand, and the people hmried
ibonfc to one another's honaee, and mmgled their con-
jeetvree together in one heterogeneous mass. The smith
pat his hand to the bellows, but forgot to blow till the
fire went out; the wearer leaned on his beam, and list-
eaed to the legends of ihe ghastly tailor. The team
flood in Ynid fturow, and the thrasher agaping over his
fkSt; and even the Dominie was heard to declare that
the geometrical series of events was increasing by no
4MM»MMi measure, and therefore ought to be calculated
laAer arithmeticaliy than by logarithms; and J<^
Broadcast saw more and more reason for being thank-
Ad' that he was as he was, and neither a stock nor a
stone, nor a brute beast.

Everynewtlnng that happened was more extraordinary
dual the last ; and the most puzxling of all was the cir^
enmstance of the late Laird's mare, saddle, bridle, and all»
being off bef<»« day the next mcMning ; so that Dr Da-
linglon was obliged to have recourse to his own, en
"^faidi he was seen posting away on the road towards
Edinburgh. It was thus but too obvious that the ghost
of the late Laird had ridden off on his favourite mare>

fim LoMl oftiy teeirwliitlier tl0r.M to ilM»f«falnifnw
^^ «be sages of WnielMlfliemilddiTiiie; BvrttlM^flods
gNfw dtaXL as an iceberg, and tiieir TetyfraniiMf 'rigid, iit
d|a ^wnghts of a spirit riding stway on a braite>beiiBtt»
llwplaee appointed for wkked mem And hacl not Jshs
Broadcast reasso to be tfaankfid thai he was as be was?
.Howe?eiv the outcry -of the oomrnnnityboeaine'so
Ootngeons, of ranrder, and fool play in so many ways,
tiMit the officers of justioe were compelled to takenoti^
e|fils;< and accordingly the SheriffHSQbstitate^ the ^he^
ri^&ekrk, the Fiscal, and two assialants, came in two
thainni to Wiaeholm to tidce a preoognitiofli r andlibees
VDOomrt was hrid which lasted^khe whole day,'at widch,
Mn Daidngton> the late Laird's only daughter, jiit lbs
sermaitB^aBNl a greait number of the villagwa, were nitt*
minad on oath* It appeared from/ tfae'Svidenee'itlart
DsDarington had come to theTiilageandset'iipi«ai
a :Surgeo»*^th8t he had used every mideaFOur tobs
employed in the Laird's family in vain, as the latter4s*
tasted him« lliat he, howeter, found m^ans of in-
dnemg his only daughter to elope with hiin, which
put the Laird quite beside hbnsrify and fn>m thei»te«
teward he becamedrowned in diss^MktionA lliatsuiBh;
howerer, was his affection for his daughter, that he
eaasedher to live with him, but would never sufihc
^ Doctor to> enter his door«-*-4hat it was neverth^ess
quite cwtonuiry for the Doctor to bo sent for to hi§

rsoL i«A»0 Mr. wmwaoiM.

ichamiiwv partimlariy when W ^lAher was k Ui
(R^ft^'f ittd lb* oo a certain nigbt, wImd the Laird kad
l»di^fwi>paiiy»aad waa aa OYereome that he oonld nai
jmrSsom- hia dbair^ ha had died aaddenly of i^aplezf i
iaidfthal»«»;Qlher akiU waa acBt for, or near hioi^ hut
dua Jhiatjdetealed aon-in-laWf whom he had by will ditii
infacoliad^ thmigtk the legal term for rendering that will
oanqMttaiii had not expived. The body waa coffined
^lOtaaeiMid day after death, and locked up in a lanr
ca0m ua one.of the wtngaef the bidlding; and nothing
boAtat iovM be Edited. The Doctor was miaskig;
liadfit!wa» whispered that be had absconded; indaad
itt m^ eiddant, wad the Sheriff acknowledged, iimt^&i»
QOfdiiag. t» the evidence tak^, the matter had « ymtf
onpiciowB ai^>ect, althongh there waa no difect praef
a^fttnaithe Doctor. It waa proved that he had aat
taunted to tbleed the patient, but had not succeedadi
and. that at that time the old Laird was black in the
fiM»«' ■..■•. ■ r-

.|i When it began to wear nigh night, and nothing fBt*
ftiaa eonld be learned, the Sheriff-^lerk, a quiet can*
^pratleman^ aaked why they had not examined
who made the coffin, and also placed ikk
bodym it ? The thing had not been thought of; b«t
ha was found in coort, and instantly put into.thoiwia^
ana'^'box^ and examined on oath*. Hm nann^^wrii
Jamas Sandflnoni a.«tiwM)iulei.littk|^ah«a(wdr]paku^

334 THB SHEPHERD 8 GAUDOMUk

man, with a rery peculiar squint. He was examined
thns by the Pi'ooiinitor-fiKaL

^ Were you long acquainted wkfa the late Laird «f
Winehokn, James ?"

^ Yes, erer since I left my apprenticesfaip ) for I
suppose about nineteen yean."

** Was he reary much given to drinking of late ?"

« I could not say. He took 1» glass g<eyaa heart*
ay."

** Did you ever drink with him ?"

** O yes, mony a time."

^ You must hare se^i him Tery drunk then ? Did
yon ever see him so drunk that he oevld not rise. In*
instance ?"

^ O never I for, lai^ afore that, I could not hav«
kenn*d whethm* he was sitting or standing."

^ Were you present at the corpse>-diesting ?"

« Yes, I was."

<< And were you certmn the body was then depofilt<*
ed in the coffin ?''

<< Yes ; quite certain.*'

** Did you screw down the eoffin-lid firmly then, as
you do o^rs of the same make ?"

« No, I did not."

^ What were your reasons for that ?"
' ^ lliey wee^ no reasons of vm^-^I did idiat I was
onleiWDL There weie private reasons, which I ihiA

rSS 2»AiaD OF WINAHOLM. 385

wist ikot 4^i* Bttt^ gentlemeiiy there are some things
connected with this mfiiEury which I am bound in honour
niDi to reveal' I ho^e jon will not compel me to di«
valge them at present.'*

^ Yon ake bound by a solemn oath, James, which
ii the highest of all obligations ; and for the sake oi
JQStiee, yon. must tell every thing yon know ; and it
would be better if yon would just tell your tale straight
forward, without the intermption of question and an-'

^ Well, then, since it* must be so : That day, at the
chitifting, %he Doctor took me aside, and says to me,
< JanMB ^lenderBcn, it will-be necessary that someUiing
b6 put into the coffin to prevent any unpleasant flavour
before the funenal ; for, owing to the corpulence, and
inflamed state of the body by apoplexy, there will be
great danger ^ this.'

" * Very well, sir,' says I — < what shall I bring ?*
<< < You had better only screw down the lid lightly
at present, then,' said he, < and if you could bring «
bucketful of quicklime, a little while hence, and pour
it over the body, especially over the face, it is a very
good thing, an excellent thing for preventing any de»
leterious effluvia from escaping.'
. ^ < Very well, sir,' says I ; and so I followed Ins di-
rections. I procured-the lime ; and as I waste comn
privately in the evening to deposit it in the coffin, in

SS6 THB 8B3VHB«D*a flAl.WimHI.

oompnf wiih the Doetor idoMy I VKi imltiBfiBff jhe
time in my workihopy pt^iflhing iOBie iriAe^ aa4
iag to myself that I could sot iad u my heart-to
up my old friend with quicklime^ ef«« after ha
dead, when, to my un^MakaUe honee^ iriio ahodU
enter my workshop but the identical Laird
dremed in his dead-dothaa in the yeryaama
in whieh 1 had aeen him laid in the oolfii^ Wl ifK
parently all atiaammg in blood to the £eel» I §M'
over against a cart-wheel, and was going to call
b«t could not ; and as he stood straight in the ^Mr,
there was no means of escape. At length the -afft-
rition i^wke to me in a hoavBe trembling vaips^ cmmtf^
to have frightened a whole condaye of bishops avi 0i
their senses ; and it says to me, < Jamia Sandeasa* J
O, Jamie Sanderson ! I have been Ibieed to-i
you in a d— d frightful guise T These wena tlia
first words it spoke,— and they were fv fraahamg a
lie ; but I hafflins thought to mys^ ihi^ a hainy-ln
such circumstances might have spoke with v littWaasvs
caution and decency. I could make no answoyfor my
tongue refused all attempts at articulation, and my %s
would not come together ; and all that I could doy was
to lie back against my new cart-wheel, and hold up my
hands as a kind of defence. The ghastly and blood-
stained apparition, advancing a step or two, held vp

C

liAIRD or WINEHOLM. 33?

hidiiti bHMb, i^ag with dead ruffles, and cried to
M ift a atili wMtn friglttftd Toice^ ' O, my bitbhd old
1 I liKve been anorderod I I am a murdered mau,
in 1 and if yoa do not aMiat me in bring-
ing iqioa the wretch dae vetribntiony yon will be d— d
la heU, m: "

,.-M Hus is flbaer raving, Jamee," taid the Sheriff, in-
Unnpting Urn. *^ Theie words can be nothing but

iBvittga of a dirtubed and heated imagination. I
yon to recoUecty that you have appealed to the
fpnal Judge of heaven and earth for the truth of what
ymt aaaert here^ and to answer accordingly."
<r:**l know what I am saying, my Lord Sheriff,'* said
ifBaaienMm ; *^ and am telling naething but the plain
WaA, as nearly as my state of mind at the time per-
mkB we to reo^ect. The appalling figure approach-
lad still nearar and nearer to me, InreathiDg threatenings
<tf I would not rise and fly to its assistance, and swear-
ing like a s<»geant of dragoons at both the Doctor and
tnyaelf. At length it came so close on me, that I had
«o other shift but to hold up both feet and hands to
jdneld me, as I had seen herons do when knocked down
by a goshawk, and I cried out ; but even my voice
failed, so that I only cried like one throug^i his sleep.

M * What the devil are you lying gaping and bray-
ing at there V said he, seizing me by the wrists, and

VOL. I. p

338 THB MIXFUBRO^ CAMJBmkASL

dragging me after hiai. < Do yon noteeethe

I am in, and wby won't yon iky to MtooMar metBV^ii*-

^ I now felt to mj great reliely tliat thii'^teiTific
porition wae a bemg of fleelv blood, andlwaoiy lifie
myeelf ; that, in abort, it waa indeed my kind mki
iiiend the Laird popped out of his open eoBm^Ktmi
come oyer to pay me an 'evening nsit, iHrt-certaialy
in such a guue as earthly vint was never paid« Lsdoa
gathered up my scattered scnaeay took my oldfirieBd
into my room, bathed him all over, and washed iiim
well in lukewarm water; tlieft>put him iiito.A warm
bed, gave him a glass or two of warm punch, and: be
came round amanngly. He caused' ma to snnney Us
neck a hundred times I am sure ^ and I had noi doubt
he had been strangled, for there was % pusple ring
round it, which in some places was bkok, and.e iittb
swollen ; his voice creaked like a door hmge^ aiid blA
features were still distorted. He swore tencibly at
both the Doctor and myself; but nothing put him
half so mad as the idea of the quicklime being poured
over him, and particularly over his face* I amouer
taken if that experiment does not serve him. fociA
theme of execration as long as he lives."

" So he is then alive, you say ?*' asked the Fiscal^i

*< O yes, sir ! alive, and tolerably well, consideting.

We two have had several bottles together in my quiet

room ; for I have still kept him concealed, to see what

VKM IiAUU> or WINJBHOLM. 339

Af^iDiM&t'Wcnld do next. He is in terror for bim
•omehowti vntil aiziy diys be over from some date
tl^it faei teUu of» md aeeiiiB aasured tbat tbat dog will
bure.lua life hj liook or crook, unless he can brin^.
to tbegaUowa-betameSy and he is absent on that
tO'day*. One night lately, when fully half-
LOTcr, ko set off to the schoolhouse, and frighten.
idvAe Dominie ; and last night he went up to the
stable^ and gave old Broadcast a hearing for not keep-
iflgthis mare well enough.

•^ it appeared that some shaking mo^on in the cof-
fiaing of him had lHt)ught him to himself, after bleed-
ing abundantly both at mouth and nose ; that he was
oa fak feet ere ever he knew how he had been dispo-
sed'of, and was quite shocked at seeing the open cofhu
oit thebed, and himself dressed in his grave-clothes,
ttd all- in one bath of blood. He flew to the door,
bat it was locked outside ; he rapped furiously for
something to drink ; but the room was far removed
from any inhabited part of the house, and none re-
garded* So he had nothing for it but to open the
window, and come Uirougfa the garden and the back
loaning to my workshop. . And as I had got orderH to
bring a bucketful of quicklime, I went over in tho
forenight with a bucketful of heavy gravel, b» much
as I could carry, and a little white lime sprinkled on
the top of it ; and being let in by the Doctor, I de-

340 Tflft- SHBNBKft's €MJBHBAML

that in the ooAa, scrovptd dawn^thelM^'aBd
left ii^ end tbe funerd fbUowed ui>«lia»<eoiiTai^;<iiw
whole of which che- LmA mwed ^ron ny wmAhTy
and gate the Doctor a hearty day's caiaiDg for daring
to support his head and lay it in the graYe«— And this,
gentlemen, is the substance of what I know conoefn*
ing this enormons deed^ nHnch is, I thinks quite suffi-
eient. The Laird bound me to secrecy until such
ttt^e as he eould bring matters to a proper bearing
for securing of the Doctor ; but as you have forced it
from me, you must stand my surety, and answer the
charges against me."

The Laird arrired that ni^t with proper authority,
and a number of offioeia, ta hare the Doctor, his son-
in-law, taken into custody ; but the bird had flown ;
and from that day forlli he was nerer seen, so as to be
recognised, in Scotland. The Laird lived many yean
after that ; and though the thoughts of the quick-
lime made him drink a great deal, yet from that time
he never suffered himself to get quite drunk, lest some
one might have taken it into his head to hang him,
and he not know any thing about it. The Dominie
acknowledged that it wa» as impracticable to calcu-
late what might happen in human affairs as to square
the circle, which could only be effected by knowing
the ratio of the circumference to the radius. For
shoeing horses, vending news, and awarding proper

THE LAIRD Off WINKKOLM. 341

pmiiidiineiitSy the smith to thk dfty just beats the
worUL^ And old Jobo Broadcast is as thankful to
Hearen as eTer that thmgs are as they are.

a

I

ft
all.

d)

da

,:

»hs

c&.

SND OF THE FIRST VOLUME.

*

h

VriMBURGH
PRINTED BT BALLANTYNK AND COUFANT,
PAUL'S WORK. CAKONGATZ.

XDINBCEGH : nUVU» BT U^M^ltTYVE AKD COMPANY.

THE

SHEPHERD'S CALENDAR

BY JAMES HOGG,

AUTHOR OF " THE QUEEN'S WAKE," &c. ftc

IN TWO VOLUMES.

VOL. II.

WILLIAM BLACKWOOD, EDINBURGH;

AND T. CADELL, LONDON.
MDCCOXXIX

CONTENTS OF VOL, II.

PAOJC.

:bap. I. Window Wat*8 Coartship, 1

• ir. A Stnmge Secret, «^ ... 49

III. The Marvellous Doctor, lOa

IV. The M'itches of Traquair, .- 150

V. Sheep, 185

VL Prayers, . 193

VII. Odd Characters, 906

VIII. Nancy Chisholm, 230

IX. Snow-Storms, 254

X. The Shepherd's Dog, 293

THE

SHEPHERD'S CALENDAR.

CHAPTER I.

WINDOW WAt's courtship.

Gtreat have been the conquests, and gnerons the
deray, wrought in the hearts of die rustic youth by
some mountain nymphs. The confusion that particu-
lar ones hare sometimes occasioned for a year or two*
almost exceeds credibility. When any young woman,
has obtained a great reputation for beauty, every young
man in the bounds is sure either to be in loye with her,
or to beliere that he is so ; and as all these run on a
Friday^s evening to woo her, of course the pride and
vanity of the ftiir is raised to such a height, that she
will rarely yield a preference to any, but is sure to put
them all off with gibes and jeers. This shyness, in-
stead of allaying, never fails to increase, the fervour of
voir. IJ. A

THE shepherd's CALENDAR.

the flame ; an enmlation, if not a riralsbip, is excited
among the yonnken, irntil the getting a single word
exchanged with the rengning beauty becomes a matter
of thrilling interest to many a tender-hearted swain ;
but, generally speaking, none of these admired bean-
ties are married till they settle into the more quiet
rale of life, and the current of admiration has turned
towards others. Then do they betake themseWes to
sober reflection, listen to the most rational, though not
the most youthful, of their lovers, and sit down, con-
tented to share through life the toils, sorrows, and joys
of the humble eot«

I am not now writing of ladies, nor of " farmers'
bonny daughters ;** but merely of country maddens,
such as ewe-milkers, hay-workers, har'st-shearers, th^
healthy and comely daughters of shepherds, hinds, coun-
try tradesmen, and small tenants ; in short, all the rosy,
romping, and light-hearted dames that handle the sickle,
the hoe, the hay-raik, and the fleece. And of these I
can say, to their credit, that rarely an instance happens
of a celebrated beauty turning out a bad, or even an.
indifferent wife. This is perhaps owing to the circum-
stance of their never marrying very young, (for a youth-
ful marriage of a pair who have nought but their ex->
ertions and a good name to depend on for the support
of a family, is far from being a prudent, or highly com-
mendable step,) or that these belles, having had too

WINDOW wax's courtship. $

much experience in the follies and flippancies of youth-
ful love, and youthful lovers, make their choice at last
on principles of reason ; or it may be owing to another
reason still, namely, that among the peasantry young
men never flock about, or make love to a girl who is not
noted for activity, as well as beauty. Cleverness is al-^
ways the first recommendation ; and consequently, when
a young woman so endowed chooses to mairy, it is na^
tural to suppose that the good qualities, which before
were only occasionally called into exercise, wiU then be
exerted to the utmost. Experience is the great teacher
among the labouring class, and her maxims are carried
down from father to son in all their pristine strength.
Seldom are they violated in any thing, smd never in
this. No yoimg man will court a beautiful daw, im-
less he be either a booby or a rake.

In detailing a signal instance of the power of coun-
try beauty, I shall make use of fictitious names ; and
as I have not been an eye-witness to the scenes I
mean to detail, I judge it bf st to give them in the collo-
quial style, exactly in the same manner as they have
been rehearsed to me. Without adopting this mode,
I might make a more perfect arrangement in my pre*
Bent story, but could not give it any degree of the in-
terest it appeared to me to possess ; nor could the cha-
racters be exhibited so well in any way as by letting
them speak for themselves.

TH8 SBBPHERD's OALSNDAB.

^ Waty what was the matter wi yon, that ye neves
keepit your face to the Buniater the hat Sabbath day ?
Yon • an unco unreverend gate in a kirk» nan. I bae
seen you keep a good ee on Uie preacher^ and take
gaod tent to what was gawu too; mi tsotb Vm wm
to see ye altered to the wanr^ '

^< I kenna how I might chance to be kK^ung^ but I
hope I was listening as weel as you» or oay that was
there !— <*Heighow ] It s a weary warld this I"

/' What has. wade it siccan a weary warld, Wat ?
TrnvSiire it- wasna about jthe ills o' life that the minister
was preaching, that day> that has gart ye change sae
saic? ^W9 Wat, I tentit ye weel a' the day^ and 111
be in your debt for a toop lamb at Michaelmas^ gin
yf 'U juG^t tell me ae distinct sentence o' the sermc^i. on
Sabbath last."

. " Hout, Jocky man t ye ken I dinna want to make a
jest about ony saacred thing ; and as for your paulie
tfoop.kuttb, what care I for it?''

^i Xe jfieedna think to win aff that gate, callant. Just
confess, ithe truth, that ye never heard a word the good
UB^ said, and that baith yoiu: heart and your ee war
Qjsed on some olgect in the conti'air direction. Aad
Im^Y be mistaen, but I think I could guess what it

was,"

wfilDow Itat's COinltBHIP. 5

' ^' Wliisbt, lad, and let ns alane o' yonr sinfii' sur-
neeses. I might turn iny back on tlie ministeir du-
ring the time o' the prayer ; but that was for getting
a lean on the eeat, and what ill was in that ?"

^ Ay, and ye might likewise hirsel yoorsefl up to
the ooraer o* the seat a* the time o' baith the sermons,
fdid lean your head on -yonr hand, and look- through
your fingers too. Can ye deny this ? or that your een
were fixed the hail! day on ae particnlaa* place ?*'

^Aweel, I winna gie a fnend ihe lee to his face.
%t this I will say — that an you had beeta giving a' the
attention to the miniver, that ane should do wha takes
it upon him to lecture las ndlghbours at this rate, ye
wadna hae been sae weel aveeeed with respect to ray
behaviour in the kirk. Take that for yom* share o'
blune* And mair llum that, if Fm nae waur than yoi^
smth^ am I waur than other folk ; for an ye had lookit
tt weel at a' the rest as it seems ye did at me, ye wad
hae seen that a' the mmi in the kirk were looking ihe
fmae gttte."

^ And a' at the same object too ? And a' as deeply
interested in it as you ? Isna that what ye're thinking ?
Ah» Wat, Wat ! lore winna hide ! I saw a pair o' slae-
black een that threw some geyan saucy disdainfn' looks
«p the kirk, and I soon saw the havoc they were ma^
king, and had made, i' your simple honest heart. Wow,
mm I bat I fear me you^are in a bad pvediekiment.*'

6 TUB 8a«PilBIU>*8 GALSNDAB.

^ Weel^ weel, murder will o«l» and I ccnleBS he^
tween twa frieads, Joek» there aerer wm a lad lasic %
prec^ddment ae I am. I neediia keesp ouglit finw yon ;
but for th^ life that'a i' yavr lM>«k, ^ana I0I a patev
abottt it escape frae atweaa year lips* i anadna tfaat
it were keaa'd bow deeply I am ia lore^ aad hofw Ut»
lie it is Hke to be reqailed, for tbe baill warld 1 Bal
I am thiedayaaiiHBerableamanasbrealhealliebreatb
o' Kfe. For I Vike yoa hna aa man aeyer liidt another*
and a' that I get i» sconv >Bd gibesy and modiery in
Tetum* O Jods, I wiab I waa deaid k an honeai utt*
tnral way, and that my banal day were the mom T

<< Weel, after a', I daresay lliat is the beet way o"
winding np a hopeless love concern. But only it oagfat
sarely to be the la^ researce. Now> wiU ye be ciito-^
didj and tell me gi^ yehae made att lawfcd eadeavoitfa
te preserve yoar ain Hfe, as ^e cemmandment reqabea
iai to d6, ye ktiA ? Hae ye eoartit the lass as a man
oight'to ceiM her who is in etery respect her eqaal?*^

<< Oh, yes, I have I I have told her a' my k^e, aad
a'^tny eafermgs; bat- it has been onVjr to be mochit,
and'Tdisimssed aboat my basiness."

<* And for that ye wl^ie and mak wry faees, aa yon
are doing just now ? Na, na, Wat, that's no the gat0
o't;— *a'maid inaua jnst be wooed in the same spirit
she shows ; flfnd arhea she shows sauciness, there's nae^
thing for it bat taking n 9tep higher tbun ber in tbtt

WINDOW WAr*S CdTBTSaiF. 9

same humour^ letting her always k^, and always see,
that yoa are naturally her snperier, and that y^ii ha¥ena
forgotm thai yon are even atoopiag from yonr dignity
when yon^oBdesoend te ask her to become your e^nal.
if sha rafos^ to he your joe aft the lairi nevet either
whine .cr look disappointed, hut be tpue ta wale^the
bonniest' lass yos can get in the mackety and lead her
to the aaaie party whore your saucy damfi( isf^ TUce
^er to the top o' the danee^ the top o' die taUe at dbv-
metf and laughs and sing ; and aye between handib
wl^isper your bonny partner; and if your ain lass- disna
liappen to be «noo weel bnokledi it ia ten t^ ane,sbe
win. find an opportnaity of oflffiaring yon ^ her epvpcny
afore night. If she look angry or. offended at jinor^
tention to others, yo« are svre o* her* 'JChey are queer
creatnres the lasses, Wat^ and I xnther duead ye bafpi
mockle skill or eiqteirienoe in their bitaa' ifidjly.gpM*
Foe^ to tell yon, the tratb, there's nnftthing pleases me
eae weel as to see them, begin to pont» and pr^nf ^their
^iCaoVgabs, and look snlky out fine the wicked* the
jee, and gar ilka feather and flower4aiptvqw^r,>wi'
their angry c^>er8 ; for let me tell yon^.it jsrmgfeat
matter to get them to take ofience — ^it lets |i ^miU'See
they ara vexed for the loss, o' hink"' .

<^ If you had ever loved as I do^ Jock^ ye^Wi^ hi^
fennd lilUe comfort in their, ofieaea^ -Bof niytpaKI»
tTory disdainfu' word that yon dear lovja^ Jaasie^a^

8 THB SiiBPHERD's CALBMPAE.

gangs lo my heart like a red-hot spindle. . My life is
bound up in her faTonr. It is only in it that I can live^
moTe» or hreathe ; and whenerer she says a aevwe ^w
catting word to me» I feel as if ane o' my measbeBB
were torn away> and am glad to esci^ as kng as I am
ony thing ara; for I find, if I war to remain* a few
m*e ttccan sentences wad soon annihilate me."

<< On ay I you're a hoirdly chieldy to be s«De ; but I
•haTe aae donbt ye wad melt away Hke snaw off n d3ie^
or a dead riieep weel pykit by the corbies I Wow» man,
bat it maks me wae to think o't^ and sae, to saTe yon
&ae sic amehmcholy end» I shall take in hand to being
Jierio your ain terms» in three months' time^ if yon wiU
•lake my advice.'*

^< O muiy spedc ; for ye are garring a' de Uood in
;my yeitts rin np to my head, as gin it war a thonsand
ants galloping like mad^ ronning races."

'* Weet» Waty in the first place, I propose to gang
down yonder a night by mysell, and speak baith to bar
fether and her, to find how the land Ues ; and after
that we can gang down baith tbegither, and ff» her a
feir bioadside»>«-^The deil's in't> if we-sanna bring her
to reason."

Wat scratched his head, and pnlled the grass (that
was quite blamdess in the afiair) fdriously up by the
roots, but made no answer. On being urged tadedait
bis sentiments^ he said, ^< I dinna ken about that way

imiDow Wat's coarrsmp. 9

o' ganging down yonr laoae ; I wkh- you niaiuma stick
by the -anld fiaherV role, < £ivery man for his ain hand.*
For .1 jken weel, that nae man alive can see her, and
speafc^ to-her, and no be in love wi' her."

« It is a good thing in love affiaiirsi Wat, that thiere
are hardly two in the w<N*ld wha think the same way.'*

^^ Ay) but. this is a particular case; for a' the men
in the oountry think the same gate here, and rin the
same gate, to the wooing. It is impossible to win near
die l^MHise on a Friday night without knocking your
head .against that of some rival. Na, na» John, this
pl^i^.iQ^-gsnging down by yoursell winna do. And
now whefL I think on% ye h^ better no gang down
ava ; for if we gang down fri^oMls, well come up ene-
mies ^ and that wadna be a very agreeable catastroff."

^^Jjfom shame ftJ me> gin ey&t I heard sie nonsense!
To thmk that a' the warld seewi* yonr eeni Hear ye,
Wirt—*! wadna gie that snap o' my fingers for her. I
nev<Qr saw her till Sunday last, when I came to your
kiik a^p^ arand for that purpose, and I wadna ken her
again gia I war to meet her here come out to the glen
wi' ypur yr^eyr—what ails you, ye fool, that you're dight-*
mg your een ?**

^ Come out to the glen wi' mi^ whey I Ah, man !
the wqrds gaed dnrough me like the stang of a bumbee*
Gome put to the glen wi' my whey I Gkide forgie my
sin, y/timt is the reason I eanna thole that thought?

A2

il

Wat, and as little

ii win mlj be to Inm-

Evyoaraake.

* far the best

Jaol 1^ JevKL VBM 4efvm ia d bb sig^ and Ingfa

tai%biB between his
/WacjMdtWbaaBySaBw-Aec^ astbisjMnk of a

cdDed: Fer be it anderstood,
^ oS in iW pnili wai BHMd after one of the
bM»«f tbeav; ind ewnr aiBy too^ yoang and old,
bni la I bj aaanf. by wbk& w« dUl £8tii^[iiiah than
ttttMTiWpRaenL Tbi ^ SBaw4kd( s fitther was
«dMT«d-L0«n^ (^ fax ;) bb eldest dang^tca-, the
Eiiigie;iW9einM^ Ae Sf aiiw ; and his only son was
ibniiiaiuil ^ Fonanrt, (pole-cat,) on acconnt of
n notable bnnt be once had with one of these creatures
in the anddle of ^ lugbt, in a strange house ; — and it
was ibe wont name I emer heard for a young man.
Oar di0COB9olate Iotct was called Window Wat, on
nccowU of hb baahfnl nature, and^ as was allied, be-

wiKDow WAT*s corarsHiF. 11

cause be was in the habit of banging abovt die
dowB fHien be went arconrting, and never fenluiing
in. It was a good wb3e after tius first lencoonter be-
fore the two sbepberds met again widi the qpportmuty
of resominig the discnssion of their lore afiaiis. Bnt

at length an occasion offered, and then But we

mnst Boffsr ererj man to tell his own tale, else the
^ort will be ^xnlt.

^ Weel, Wat, hae ye been ony mair down at Low-
rie's Lodge, sin' I saw you ?"

^ And if I hae, I hae bem little the better o' yon.
•I heard that yon were there before me— and sinsyne
too,"

^ Now, Wat, that's m«re jealoosy and suspicion, for
ye didna see the lass to ken whether I was there or
not. I ken ye wad be hinging aboat the window^
soles as usual, keekii^ in, feasting your een, seeing
other woosters beiking their shins at the ingle ; but for
a' that, durstna venture ben. Come, I dinna like siccan
jsachless gates as thae. I vxu down, Fse no deny't,
but I gaed to wark in a manner di£Ferent from youra^
Unco cauldrife wark that o' standing peenging about
windows, man I Come, tell me a* your expedition, and
TUl. tell you mine, — ^like friends, ye ken."

" Mine's no ill to telL I gaed down that night after
I saw you, e'en though Wednesday be the widower s
night. More than I were therey but I was fear'd ye

kadgsuhvealoreHM^ aid dm, wT y6«r great JaSH
• ^wsy«« wwtn, yeBugkftlaekftmeiiaeclHOMe
«K a'. I WW dtore^ Imt I ni^ as weel kw staid st
kHw, for tlwrt wve aw mony o' iIk ovi-wale ivaUie-
mgle knid o' wooesB there, lice myed!, a' tliem that
caiBM WB fafTH (» a Fikky ni^ that I got tiie back
V the keHaa to keep; km iknes ae good tfamg aboot
the aold Tod's homey — ^they neTer dbl mp ^bmr win-
dows. Aae sees aye wkat*8 gam oil wiUm doors.
They leare a* their actiona open to the ee o* naan, yen
finaily ; wmd I often think it is nae ill sign o' them.
Anld TodpLowrie himaell aometimea lookaat ike win-
dow in a kind o* considering mood, as if donbtful that
at thai moment he is both oTvheard and ovciBecn ;
but, or it ia lang, he cocks i^ his bonnet and taracksaa
cronae as ever, as tf he thought again, There's aye ae
^ee that aeea ase at a' times, and a ear that hears mcr;
and when that'a the caae^ what need I care for a' the
birkieso'tke knd I-^I Hke that ofeai independent way
that the £unfly has. But O, they are sarely sair ka^
raaaed wi' wooers I"

^ The wooers are the very joy o' their hearts, except-
ing the Foomart's ; he hates them a' imless they can teU
him hnnders o' Hes ahont battles, bogles, and awfn' mur-
ders, and peraecntions. And ihe leaving o' the windows
ope9 too is not without an aim. The Eagle is begin-
ning to weary for a hnsband ; and if yell notice how

WINDOW wat's courtship; 13

dink die dresses iienell ilka night, and jinks away at
the mudde wheel as she war spinning for a wager.
They hae found out that they are often seen at night,
yon lasses ; and though they hae to work the foulest
work o' t^e hit &rm a' the day when naehody sees them,
at night they are a' dressed up like pet-ewes for a market,
and'ilk^ ane is acting a part. The Eagle is yerking on
at Ae wheel, and now and then gieing a smirk wi* her
faoo to the window. The Snaw-fleck sits busy in the
neuk, ais^ sleek as a kinnen, and the auld docker foment
her 'Admiring and miscalng her a' the time. The white
Sea^naw flees up and down the house, hut and hen, ae
while i' the spence, ane i the awmrie, and then to the
door wi' a soap-suds. Then the Foumart, he sits knit-
ting his stocking, and quarrelling wT the haill 6' ihem.
ThafeJnt a haed he minds hut sheer ill nature. If there
be a good body i' the house, the auld Tod is the ane.
He is a geyan honest, downright carle, the Tod."

^ It is hardly the nature o' a tod to be saie ; and there's
no ae bit o' your description that I gang in wiM It is
a fine, douse family.

< Bat O the Snaw-ffeck!
Hie Innmy bonny Snaw-fleck !
She is the bird for me, O !* "

<< If lore wad make you a poeter, Wat, I wad say
it had wrought miracles. Ony mair about the bonny
Snaw-fleck, ^ ? I wonder how you oan make glow-

1«

mmuSaf m a cnU wiiWw — ^No die
TeD mt jiam^ dU ye ever get »

«

^ Bf^r kmr np l—I OB Invilj «y tfaft I did ; fM)
i Ihp Wm 'hdw foBBB «flie ■■ I mbit yiovu**
' And CI *'<i mwd inr ^— r ■■■§ a' lie toaat?"
Ni»«rliiid»ikft,»ti«. I kid iJtt plewm
iMc> to^, iiiwt, ^d hmiy, bogy
Iht ■wliiirfi vaik. I mw her nafle at li^
IvfidHr « cs«ldm wariB. ad I «■" tie aftprorii^ ^an-
n» liMB fiw d» tvm adld Mk a «■. \IVbW&-
TdNT Mii^ iinhMPW^ ake Mk W BUe, aod i^
)iiiPf^ di^nfthr in Ikt ee tW ««pi8 o* iKdy wiit, as the
«^ wn TMid i^HB : ad lierieKe ia aiagi^ the psalm
inHi » mDiv iMd as fwoA ai tke iate playi]^ aiar off.
Ye nvr W£pve mw Jacis n^a I sftw Wr lift iq> her
>iw«Or iu>f ia ««rM« ^e^«lM% I «wid aa the outside o*
^ a ladim > aoMl ant £lae a hunu It was andr than
nT)HancwMiMe;aBdcn]iiraiwfodiaBie,I wad
amr t^mr aula •» 09*T ^ ^vb^ heavenly TisioD.*"
<*« Ai^ Fai a Oavoa ■Ha^ Wa^ I heBeve lore kas
aMidfajiMavraf yMa. Ye wawa hefiere nney man, that
>i^f«T wmasar » aiiiai Wi |«n. Da joa thiak she did-
Ml liMi Am tHp i«w lHr« and was anddar a* thae fine
aMmpiaMt aa ifcuwi ^awwar ia i^mt em, and gar yon
tNiarjiWwasanaMel? I MMMied otherwise ; but it
is Vm I^ trH % fkia aaft> lise fiiends, ye ken. Weel,

WINDOW WAT*S COURTSHIP. H

down I goes to Lowrie's Lodge, and, like yoi^ kedu
in at the window ; and the first thing I saw was the
auld Tod toving out tohaeco-reek like a moorhvni.
The haill biggin was sae ehokefn' o* the Tapoory it was
like a dark mist, and I could see naething through it
but his ain braid bonnet moying up and down like the
tap o' the smith's bellows, at erery poogh he gave. At
length he bandit by the pipe to the anld wife, and the
reek soon turned mair moderate. I could thou see the
lasses a' dressed out like dolls, and several young boo-
bies o' hinds, threshers, and thrum-cutters, sitting gash-
ing and glowring among thenu — I shall sooa set your
backs to the wa*, thinks I, if I could get ony possible
means o* introduction.^ — ^It wasna lang till ane offered ;
out comes a lass ¥d' a cog o' warm water, and she gars
it a* clash on me. ' Thanks t ye for your kindness, my
woman,' says L < Ye canna say I hae gi'en ye a cauld
reception,' says she. < But wha are ye, standing like a
thief i' the mirk ?' — < Maybe kenn'd folk, gin it war day-
light,' quo' I. < Ye had better come in by, and see gin
candle-light winna beet the mister,' says she. < Thanks
t'ye,' says I ; < but I wad rather hae you to come out
byy and try gin stem-light winna do I' — < Catch me do-
ing that,* cried she, and bounced into the house again.
<< I then laid my lug close to the window, and heard
ane asking wha that was she was speaking to ? < I din-
na ken him/ quo' she ; < but X trow I hae gi'en him a

16 tHE shepherd's CALENDAl^

mark to ken him by ; I faae gi*en him & balsam o* boil-
ing water.*

**^l wish ye may hae peeled a* the hide aff his sliiitty*
quo* the Foumart, and he mndged and lengh ; ' haste ye,
dame, rin awa out and lay a plaster o' lime and linseed-
oil to the lad's trams,' continued he.

" < I can tell ye wha it is,' said ane o' the hamlel
wooers ; ' it will be Jock the Jewel comed down firae llie
moors ; for I saw him waiting about the chop and the
amiddy till the divkness came on. If ye hae disabled
him, lady Seabird, the wind will blaw nae mair out o'
the west.*

^ I durstna trust them wi' my character and me in
hearing ; sae, without mair ado, I gangs bauldly ben. —
* Gude e'en to ye, kimmers a' in a ring,' says I.

« * Gude-e'en t'ye, honest lad,* quo* the Ei^le.
' How does your cauld constitution and our potatoe-
broo sort?'

« < Thanks t'ye, bonny lass,' says L < I hae gotten
a right sair skelloch ; but I wish I wama woundit nae
deeper somewhere else than i' the shinbanes ; I might
shoot a flying erne for a' that's come and gane yet.*

" < That's weel answered, lad,* quo' the Tod. * Keep
her down, for she's unco glib o' the gab,— especially to
strangers.*

" * You will neyer touch a feather o' her wing, lad,*
quo' she. * But if ye eould 111 say nae mair.'

Wnn>ow Wat's COURTSHIP. 17

** < Na, na, Mistress Eagle, ye soar o'er high for me,'
says L < I'll bring down nae sky-cleaying harpies to
pick the een out o' my sheep, and my ain into the bar-
gam, nuiybe* I see a bit bonny norland bird in the nook
here, that I would rather woo to my little hamely nest.
The Eagle maon to her eyry ; or, as the auld ballant

a

* Gaap and Aped to her yermit riven,
Aibid the misto and the rains of heaven«*

It is the innocent, thrifty little Snaw-fleck that will suit
m^ wi' the white wings and the blue body. She'«
pleased wi' the hardest and hameliest fare ; a picking o'
the seeds o' the pipe-bent is a feast to her.' **

^ Now, by the ffiddi o' my body. Jewel, that wasna
fair. Was that preparing the way for your friend's svc-

Naething but sheer banter, man ; Hke friends, ye
ken. But ye sail hear. * The Snaw-fleck's a braw
l>east,' said I, < but the Elsie's a waster and a destroyer.'

^ < She's true to her mate, though/ said the dame;
* but the tither is a bird o' passage, and mate to the haill
flock.'

*< I was a wee startled at this observe, when I thought
of the number of wooers that were rinning after the bou*
ny Snaw-fleck. However, I didna like to yield to the
haughty Eagle ; and I added, that I wad take my chance
Q* the wee Snaw-lnrd, fpr though ^ war ane of a floek„

I

18 THE SHEPHERP'S CALENDAB.

that flock was on honeet ane. Hub pleased them a ;
and the auld alee Tod, he spake np ead nid, he hadna
the pleasure o' being acquaint wi' me, but he hoped he
shouldna hae it in his power to say sae agaku Only
there was ae thing he beggit to renind me o', before I
went any farther, and that was, that the law of Padta-
aram was established in his family, and he could by no
means gi^e a younger daughter in marriage before one
that was elder.

<< < I think you wUl maybe keep them for a gay
while, then,' said the Foumart* * But if the Se^-goll
wad stay at hame, I catena if the rest were at Bampb.
She's the only usefii' body I see about the house.' -
^ < Haud the tongue o' thee, thou illfa'red, <sal^wit-
ted serf," said the auld wife. < Tm sure <«iy o' ihem*»
worth a faggald o' thee I And that lad, gin I dinna iotBr
fmst aglee, wlid do credit to ony kin**

<< < He*8 radier (»wer weel giftit o* the gab^' quot th^
menseless thing. This remark threw a damp onjUy
apirits a' the jiight aft^,* and I rather lost grousd ^htsu
gained ony mair. The ill-hued weaseUblawft thiiig'€ff
a brother, never missed an opportunity of ^ein]^,i|ie %
yerk wi' his iU-scrapit tongue, and the Eagle was aye
gieing hints about the virtues o' potatoe-broo. llie
auld Tod chewed tobacco and threw his mouth, lookil
whiles at ane and whiles at another, and seemed to &h
joy the jok« us ^l^ckJe «s ony p* them, As for A©

WINDOW wax's COURTSmPt 19

bonny Snaw-bird, she never leugh aboon her breath, bnt
«atasmimaiidasBleekaaaraoadie. There were some
i^ry pretty smilee and dimples gaun, but nae gaffawing.
She is really a fine kss."

^ There it goes now I I tauld you how it would be t
I «d you, Jewel, the deil a bit o' this is (air play*''

<< Ane may tell what he thinks — like a friend, ye
ken. We^--40 make a lang tale short — I couldna
help seeing a' the forenight that she had an ee to roe*
I eouldna h^ tiatf ye ken* Gat mony a sweet blink
and smile thrawn o'er the fire to me— <ouldna Jielp tha^
rnAer^ ye k^ir— never lost that a friend gets. At
lengtk a' the douce wooers drew off ane by ane-Hsiaw
it was needless to dispute the point wi' me that night.
Ane had to gang hame to supper his horses, another to
fodder tbe kye^ and anoUier had to be hame afore his
master took the book, else he had to gang supperless
to bed* 1 sat still — ^needless to lose a good boon for
lade o' addng. The potatoes wwe poured and chamr
pilH-r»aobody bade me bide to supper; but I sat still;
and tiie SMld wife she slippit away to the awnirie, and
broi^l^ fi knoll o' butter like ane's nieve, and slippit
ihat into the potatoe«pot hidUng ways, but the fine fla-
Ymr that filled the bouse soon outed tb^ secret. I drew
in m^y seat wi' the rest, resolved to hae my share.^ I
aaw that. J bad a hearty welcome frae them a' but the
Foumart, and I loot him gim as muckle as he Uket.

I

so THB shepherd's CALENDAB.

Weely I saw it was turning late, and there was aneees^
sity for proceeding to business, else the prayere wad be
4m» Sae I draws to my plaid and stafl^ and I looks
round to the lasses ; but in the BMantime I dropi dhalf
a wii^ to the Snaw-^edc, and I says^ ^ Weel, wba o*
you bonny lasses sets -me the length o' the.towahead
yett the night ?*

^ < The f^t a aae o' them/ quo' the Foumart wi' a
giro.

<< < The townhead yett the night, honest lad ?' qno'
ike wife. < Be my certe> lliou's no gaun nae siccan a
geat. Dis thou think thou can gang to the muirs the
night ? Nay, nay, thou shalt take share of a bed wi*
our son till it be day, for the night's dark and the i?oadf s
eiry.

^< < He needna stay uidess he likes,' quo' the Foumart

<^ < Hand thy tongue,' said the wife. So I sat down
agam, and we grew a' imco silent. At length the Ea^
rose and flew to the door. It wadna do — ^I wadna fol-
low ; sat aye still, and threw another straight wiBk to
ishe bonny Snaw^fleck, but ^ shy shirling sat snug ia
her comer, and wadna move. At length the Eagle
"comea gliding in, and in a moment, or erer I kemi'd
what I was doing, daps down a wee table at my Isit
hand, and llie big Bible and psalm>book on't. I never
get sic a stound, and really thought I wad sink down

VINJDOW WAT*« COUBTSHIP. 21

through the floor ; and when I saw the keaes shading
their faces wi' their hands, I grew waor.

<< c What ails thee, honest lad, that thou looks sae
hangh?*^ said the anld wife. < Sure thou's no asheamed
to prdase thy Meaker? f<H: anthou be» I shall be ashea*
med o' ihee. It is an auld family- eustom we hae, aye
to gie a stranger the honour o' being our leader in thi$
duty ; and gin he refuse that, we dinna countenance
him nea mair.'

^ That was a yerliar I I now fand I was fairly in the
mire* F(»r:the ssnl o' me I durstna take the book ; for
though I had a good deal o' good wcnrds by heart, I did-
na ken how I might gar them compluther. And as |
took this to be a sort o' test to try a wooers abilities,
I could easily see that my hough was fairly i the sheep-
craok, and that what wi' stidung ihe psalm, bungling
the prayer, potatoe-broo and a^th^ther^ I was like to
come badly off. Sae I says, *. Gudewife> I'm obliged
t'fie ior the honom: ye hae offered me ; andsae £ur frae
beiti^ ashamed o' my Maker's seryioe, I rej/oice in it;
hull hae mony reasons for declining the honoar. . In
iha^firet place, war I to take the task out o' the gude*
vunVhand, it wad be like the youngest scholar o' the
sehori piietending to teach his master ; and were I to
stay hare a' night, it wad be principally for the purpose
of hearing family worship frae his ain lips. But the
truth is, and that's my great reason^ I can not stay a'

24 THE 8HEPH£RD*8 CAUEMDAB.

when twa folk think the saam gate, it ium a good ngn.
< I*m in love wi* you, and am determined to hae yon,'
iays I.

<< < I winna hear a single word frae ane that's betcay-
ing his friend/ said she ; — *• not one word, after yoor
avowal to my father. If he hae ony private word, say
it — and if no, good night.'

<< Did she say that, the dear creatore ? Heaven bless
her bonny face I"

. << < I did promise to a particular friend o' mine to
speak a kind word for him,' said I. < He is unco blate
and modest, but there's no a better lad ; and I never
saw ane as deeply and as distractedly in love ; for
though I feel I do love, it is with reason and mod»»-

tion.' "

<< There agun I" cried Wat, who had begun to hold
out his hand — ^< There again ! Do you ca' that acting
like a faithfu' friend ?"

<< < Not a word of yourself,' said she. > Who is this
friend of yours I And has he any more to say by you ?
Not one word more of yourself — at least not to-night.'*'

" At least not to-night I" repeated Wat, again and
again — << Did she say that ? I dinna like the addition
ava."

<< That was what she said ; and naething could be
plainer than that she was inyiting me back ; but as I
was tied down, I wjbus obliged to say something about.

WINDOW wat's courtship.' 25

yxm» * Ye ken Window Wat ?* says I. * He is o er
sight and judgment in love wi' you, and he comes
here ance or twice every week, just for the pleasure o'
seeing you through the window. He's a gay queer
compost — for thou^ he is a' soid, yet he wants spirit.'"

^' Did ye ca' me a compost ? That was rather a queer
term, hogging your pardon," ohserved Wat*

*^*1 hae seen the lad sometimes,' says she. ^ If he
came here to see me, he certainly need not he sae
mnckle ashamed of his errand as not to show his face.
I think him a main saft ane.'

<< < Ye're quite i' the wrang, lass,' says L ' Wat's a
great dab. He's an arithmeticker, a 'stronomer, a his*
torian, and a grand poeter, and has made braw sangs
about yotM*8ell. What think ye o' being made a wife
to sic a hero as him ? Od help ye, it will raise ye as
high as the moon.'"

" 111 tell ye what it is, Jock the Jewel — ^the niesi
time ye gang to court, court for yoursell ; for a' that
ye hae said about me is downright mockery, and it
strikes me that you are baith a selfish knare and a
gonameril. Sae good e'en t'ye for the present. I owe
you a good turn for yom: kind offices down by. I'll
speak for mysell in future, and do ye the same— *2i^
friends, ye hen — ^that's a' I say."

<< If I speak for mysell, I ken wha will hae but a
poor chance," cried Jock after him.

VOL. II, B

26 THE SDBPUSBD's CALENP49^

The next time our two shepherds mety it was in the
identical smithy adjoining to Lowrie's Lodge, loid that
at six o'clock on a December eTening* The smith
looked exceedingly wise, and when he heard the two
swains begin to cut and sneer at one. another, it was.
delicate food for Vulcan. . He puffed and blew at the
bellows, and thumped at the stithy, and always be-
tween put in a disjointed word or two« — << Mae hnnters !
mae hunters for the Tod's bairns— hem, pboogh,
pho<^h— will be worried. now! — phoogh"— thump,
thump — " will be run down now — hem I"

*^ Are ye gaun far this way the night, Jewel, an ane
may spier ?"

'^ Far enough for you, Wat, I'm thinking. . How
has the praying been coming on this while bygane ?"

^< What d'ye mean, Mr Jewel ? If ye will speak,
let it no be in riddles. Rather speak noQSQUfiye, as ye
used to do."

/^I $im speaking in nae riddles, lad. I wat weel a'

m

the country-side kens that ye hae been gaun learoiiig
prayers aff Hervey's Meditations, and ci^ooning them,
o'er, to youi-seU in every clench o' the glen, a' to tame
*. youi^ she-fox wiV

; '< And that ye hae been lying under the hanjls q' the
moor doctor a month, and submitting loan op^ra^igi^
frai^. the effects o' somebody's potatoe-broo—- isna^ that
as weel kent p"

IflMDOW wat's coi;rt8HIF.>^ 27

«Tm% lads, tartr med the smitb—" that's the
right way o* ganging to wark— phoogh I" — clink, clink
—"pepper away I"— clink, dink — ^"soon be baith as
het as nailstrings— -phoogh I"

The mention of the potatoe-hroo somewhat abated
Jock's sarcastic humour, for he had suffered some in*
conyemence fixnn the effects of it, and ^e cirGumstance
had turned the laugh against him among his companions.
Ere long he glided from the smithy, and after thai
Wat sat in the fidgets for fear his rival had effected a
previous engagemoot with the Snaw-fleck. The smith,
perceiving it, seized him in good-humour, and turned
him out at the door. " Nae time to stay now, lad —
nae time to wait here now. The himt will be up, and
the young Tod holed, if ye dinna make a' the better
speed." Then, as Wat vanished down the way, the
sAiitk imitated the sound of the fo^-hounds and the
cries of the huntsmen. " Will be run down now, thae
young Tods — heavy metal laid on now — ^we*ll have a
walding heat some night, an the tmek keep warm,"
said the ^mith, as he fell to the big bellows with both
hands.

When Wat arrived at Lowrie's Lodge, he first came
in contaet with one wooer, and th^i another, hanging ^
about the comers of the house ; but finding that none
of lliem was his neighbour and avowed rival, he hasted
to hia old' qtdet station at the back, window, not the

28 THE SBBPH£R]>*8 CAXiENDAlt«

windoTf where the Jewel stood when he met with fatf
mischance, hut one right opposite to iu There he saW
the three honniest hirds of the air sun-ounded with ad-
mirers, and the Jewel sitting che^ hy cheek with the
loFeiy Snaw-bird. The anhidden tears sprang to Wat's
eyes, but it was not from jeak>iiBy, but from the most
tmider affection^ as well as intense admiration, that they
had their source. The other wooers that were linger-
ing without, joined him at the window ; and Wat feel'
ing this an incumbrance, and eager to mar hb rival'a
success, actually plucked up courage, and strode ia
amongst them alL

<' How came the twa moorland duels on at the court*
ing the other night ?"

^' It s hai^ to say ; there are rarious accounts about
the mattw. '

<< What does the smith say ? — for, though his ses^
tences are hut short, he says them loud enough, and
often enough <ower» and folks reckon there's aye some
truth in the foundation/'

.'< X can tell ye what he says, for I heard him on the
subject oftenarthan since, and hiB information was pris-
cisely as Jbllows :i^^The Tod's bairns maun gang now,
lads— I'lii ^ying)' the Tod s bairns maun gang nowv^
eh, ^ffenye^-^'fairly run down. Half-a-dczen tyk^^

#mDow wat's couRTsmiP. 29

ewer sair for ae young Tod— eh ? Fairly holed the
young ane, it seems- — ^Fm saying, the young ane's holed.
Nought but a pick and shool wantit to howk her.
Jewel has gi*en mouth there — I^m saying, auld Jewel
has gi en mouth there. Poor Wat has been obliged to
turn to the auld ane — ^he's on the full track o' her — I'm
paying, he's after her, full trot. But some thinks shell
turn her tail to a craig, and wear him up. It was Wat
that got the honour o' the beuk, though — I'm saying,
it was him that took the beuk — ^wan gloriously through,
too. The saxteenth o' the Romans, without a hamp,
hinny. Was that true, think ye ? — ^I'm saying, think
ye that was true ? Cam to the holy kiss ; a' the wooers'
teeth watered — eh ? — Think ye that was true, hinny?
Tlie Jewel was amaist corned to grips at that verse
about the kiss-— eh ? — I'm saying, the Jewel closed wi'
the beauty there, I'm saying — ^Ha I ha ! — ^I tdink that
wadna be true.'— This is the length the smith's infor-
mAtion gangs."

<< I'm sure, gin the Snaw-fleck take the Jewel, in
preference to Wat, it will show a strange perversion
of taste."

<' O, there's naebody can answer for the fancies of a
woman. But they're a geyan auld-farrant set the Tods,
and winna be easily outwitted. Did ye no hear ought
4>f a moonlight-match that was to be there ?"

^ Not a word ; and if I had, I wadna hae believed it."

80 THE shepherd's CAhESUASU

" The Jewel has been whispering something to thai
effect ; he's sae uplifted, he eanna hand his tongue; and
I dinna wonder at it. But, for a' the offers the bonny
lass had, that she should fix on him, is a miracle* Time
tries a' ; and Jock may be cheated yet."

Yes, time is the great trier of human events. Let
any man review his correspondences for ten years back,
and he will then see how widely different his own pro*
spects of the future have been from the lessons taught
him by that hoary monitor Time. But, for the present,
matters turned out as the fortunate wooer had in-
sinuated ; for, in a short monlii after this confabulation
had taken place, the auld Tod's helpmate arose early
oue morning, and began a-bustlmg about the house in
her usual busy way, and always now and then kept
giving hints to her bonny lasses to rise and begin to their
daily tasks. — << Come, stir ye, stir ye, my bonny bairns.
When thei stems o' heaven hae gane to their beds, it is
time the flowers o' the yird war rising — Come, come !
—No stirring yet? — Busk ye, busk ye, like thrifty
bairns, and dinna let the lads say that ye are sleepie
dowdies, that lie in your beds till the sun bums holes
in your coverlets. Fie, ^e I — There has been a reek
i' Jean Lowrie's lum this half-hour. The moor-cock
has crawed, liie mawkin cowered, and the whaup yam*
mered abime the flower. Streek your young limbs^—
open your young eeur^a foot on the cauld. floor, and

^tNDOW Wat's courtship, 31

sleep will soon be aboon the chids. — Up, np, my win-
some bairns !"

The white Lady-Seabird was soon afoot, for she slept
'by herself; but the old dame still kept speaking away
to^e other two, at one time gibing, at another coax-
ing ^m to rise, but still there was no answer. ^ Peace
Hbe faenre, Helen, but this is an unco sleep-sleeping I"
said she«— <<"What has been asteer owemight ? I wish
•your twa titties haena been out wi' the men ?"

** Ay, I wish they binna out wi* them still ; for I
'heard them steal out yestreen, but I never heard them
steal in again."

The old wife ran to the bed, and in a moment was
•heiard exclaiming, — " The sorrow be i* my een gin erer
I saw the like o' that I I declare the bed's as cauld as
a curling-stanel — Ay, the nest's cauld, and the birds are
flown. Oh, wae be to the day ! wae be to the day !
Gudeman, gudeman, get up and raise the parishen, for
our bairns are baith stown away I"

" Stown away I" cried the father — " What does the
-woman mean?"

" Ay, let them gang," cried the son ; " they're weel
away, gin they bide."

" Tewhoo ! hoo-hoo !" cried the daughter, weeping,

— " That comes o' your laws o* Padanaram I What

had ye ado with auld Laban's rules ? Ye might hae

letten us gang aff as we could win.^— There, I am left

32 THE shepherd's CAUaOkAB.

, , . • • .

to spin tow, wfaa might hae been married the fips^ Jisd
it no been for your daft laws o' Padanaranu" ,

The girl cried, the son hni§^ed» the old H^aman
rayed and danced through very despair, but tbegnds-
man took the matter quite calmly, as if detwmiiied to
wait the issue with resignation for better or .wof|se»,

<< Hand your tongues, ilk an^ o' ye,'\sai4 he—
« What's a' the fy-gae-to about ? I haifi that^n^uckle
to trust to my lasses, that I can lippen them pa ,ipreel
out o' my sight as in my sight, and as weel wi*. young
men as wi' auld women. Bairns that are brovight. op
in the fear, nurture, and admonition o' their JMLaker,
will aye swee to the right side, and sae will nune. ^ Gin
they thought they had a right to choose for themselves,
they war right in exercising that right; and I'n^ Uttlia
feared that their choices be bad anes, or yet that they
be contrary to my wishes, Sae I rede you to hayd i^'
your tongues, and tak nae mair notice o' ought t]bi^t h^
happened, than if it hadna been. We're a' in^gud^
hands to guide us ; and though we whiles pu the reins
out o* His hand to tak a gallop our ain gate, yet He
winna leare us lang to our idn direction,"

With these sagacious words, the auld sly Tod set-
tled the clamour and outcry in his family that .morn-
ing ; and the country has never doubted to this day,
that he plowed with his own heifers.

On the evening previous to this colloquy, the.&mi-

fmmow ttaVs ooirRTsam SS

ly of th^ Tods went to resi at an early how. There
had been no wooers admitted that night ; and no soon-
er had the two old people began to breathe deep, than
the eldest and youngest girls, who slept in an apart-
ment by themselves, and had erery thing in readiness,
eloped from their father's cot, the Eagle with a light*
some heart and willing mind, but the younger with
many fears and mis^yings. For thus the matter stood :
-^Wat s^hed and pined in love for the Snaw-fleck,
but he was yotmg and modest, and could not tell his
mind ; but he was such a youth as a maiden would
lore,-'— 4iandsome, respectable, and yirtuous; and a
match with him was so likely, that no one ever sup->
posed the girl would make objections to it. Jock, on
the other hand, was neaiiy twice her age, talkative,
forward, and self-conceited ; and, it was thought, ra-
ther wanted to win the girl for a brag, than for any
great love he bore her. But Jock was rich ; and when
OQ^ has told that, he has told enough. In short, the
admired, the young,' the modest, and reserved Snaw*
fleck, in order to get quit of h^ father's laws of Pa>
danaram, agreed to make a run-away marriage with
Jock the JeweL But what was far more extraordi-
nary, her youthful lover agreed to accompany her as
bridesman, and, on that account, it may possibly be
supposed, her eldest sister never objected to acconr-
pany her as maid.

B 2

34 TfiB MBMnaaClStt CAtJBlllMUk

The sheplierds had each of them prorkled Irinrndf
with a good hone, saddle, and pillkm ; and, as ^le cus-
tom is, the intended hiide was committed to the care
of the best-man, and the Eagle was movnted Mmid
her brother-in-law that was to be. It was agreed, be-
fore mounting, that in case of their being parted in the
dark by a pnrsnit, or any other accident, their place of
rendezYons was to be at the Golden Harrow, in the
Candlemaker-Row, towards which they were to make
with all speed.

They had a wild moorland path to trarerse for some
space, on which there were a midtiplicity of tracks, but
no definitive road. The night was dark and chill, and,
on snch ground, the bride was obliged to ride con-
stantly with her right hand round Wat's waist, and
Wat was obliged to press that hand to his bosom, for
fear of its being cold ; and in the excess of his polite-
ness he magnified the intemperance of the night at least
seven-fold. When pressing that fair hand to his bo-
som, Wat sometimes thought to himself, what a hard
matter it was that it should so soon be ^ven away td
another ; and then he wiped a tear from^fais eye, and did
not speak again for a good while. Now the night, as
was said, being very dark, and the bride having made
a pleasant remark, Wat spontaneously lifted that dear
hand from his bosom, in order to attempt passing it to
his lips, but (as he told me himselQ without Ae small-

#M>6W WAt'S C0UET8HIP. 35

est hope of heiag permitted. But behold, the gentle
rayishment was never resisted I On the contrary, as
Wat replaced the insulted hand in his bosom, he felt
the pressure of his hand gently returned.

Wat was confounded, electrified! and felt as the
scalp of his head had been contracting to a point. He
felt, in one moment, as if there had been a new exist-
ence sprung up within him, a new motive for life, and '
for every great and good action ; and, without any ex-
press aun, he fek a disposition to push onward. His
horse soon began to partake of his rider's buoyancy of
spirits, (which a horse always does,) so he cocked up
his ears, mtoded his pace, and, in a short time, was far
a-head of the heavy, stagnant-blooded beast on which
the Jewel bridegroom and his buxom Ea^e rode. She
had her right arm round his waist too, of course ; but
her hand lacked the exhilarating qualities of her lovely
KSter's ; and yet one would have thought that thef
Eagle's looks were superior to those of most young
girls- outgone thirty.

<* I wish thae young fools wad take time and ride at
leisure ; we'll lose them on this black moor a'thegither,
and then it is a question how we may foregather again,"
said the bridegroom ; at the same time making his hazel
sapling pky yerk on the hind-quarters of his nag. *^ Gin
the gowk letaught happ^ to that bit'lftssie o' mine tta^
der cloud o' night, it wad be a' ower%i'*tae-^I'cbu1tf

36 THB 8IiSP|IBRD*8 CALBBIDAB.

never get aboon thau There are Bome thiiq;s, ye ken^
Mn Eagle, for a' your sneeniig, diat a man can never
get aboon,'*

<< No very mony o' them, gin a clneld hae ony spirit,*'
returned the Eagle. ^ Take ye time, and take a little
care o* your ain neck and mine. Let them gai^ thor
gates. Clin Wat binna tired o' her, and glad to get qnat
o* her, or they win to the Ports o' Edinburgh, I hae tint
my computation."

<< Na, if he takes care o* Aer, that*s a* my dread/' re-
joined he, and at the same time kidded viciously with
both heels, and applied the sapling with great vigour.
But <^ the mair haste the waur speed** b a true proverb ;
for the horse, instead of mending his pace, slackened it,
and absolutely grew so frightened for the gutters on the
moor, that he would hardly be persuaded to take one
of them, even though the sapling sounded loud and
thick on his far loin. He tried this ford, and the other
ford, and smelled and smelled with long-drawn breadi*
ings. << Ay, ye may snuff!*' cried Jock, losing all pa*
tience ; << the deil that ye had ever been foaled l<— 'Hil-
loa ! Wat Scott, where are ye ?**

<< Hush, hush, for gudesake,'* cried the Eagle ; << yell
raise the country, and put a* out thegither.*'

They listened for Wat*s answer, and at length heard
a &r-away whistle. The Jewel grew like a man half
distracted, and in spite of the Eagle's remonstrances^

mxm^w WAT*6 couBxaiiiF. 37

tbrafihed oa bis horsey curaed himi and bellowed out
still the more; for he suspected what was the cas^
that, owing to the turnings and windings of his horse
among the. hggg^, he had lost his aim altogether, and
knew not which way he went. Heavens 1 what a sten«
tooan voice be seat through the moor before him I but
he was only answered by the distant whistle, that still
went. farther and farther away*

When the bride heard these loud cries of desperation

so far.behind, and in a wrong direction, she was mightily

tickled, and laughed so much that she could hardly ke^

her seat on the horse ; at the same time, she ccmtinued

urging Wat to ^e, and be, seeing her so much amused

and delighted at the embarrassment of her betrothed

and sister, humoured her with equal good-will, rode off,

and soon lost all hearing of the unfortunate bridegroom.

They came to the high-road at Middleton^ cantered <m»

and reached E^burgh by break of day, laughing idl

the way at their unfortunate companions* Instead^

however, of putting up at the Golden Harrow, in order

to render the bridegroom's embarrassmeirt etill more

complete, at the bride's suggestion, they went to a dif^

ferent corn^ of the dty, namely, to the WUte Horse,

Canongate. There the two spent the mondng^ Wat4W

much embarrassed as any man could be, but his lotely

companion quite delighted at the thoughts of whai Jock

and her sister would da* Wat could not understand her

TBM fHKPHSRD*0 CALEMDAm.

for his life, and he coBceiTed tint file did not undentiiid
benelf ; but perbape Wat Scott was mistaken. They
breakfasted together ; but for all their long and &ti-
gning jooraey) neither of them seemed disposed to eat
At length Wat rentored to iay, <« Well be obliged to
gang to the Harrow, and see what's become o' oar

M

^ O no, no I by no means P cried die ferrentiy ; ^I
would not, for all the worid, relieye them from such a
delightful scrape. What the two «il^ diti is beyond my
comprehension."

^U ye want just to bamboosle them a'thegither, ^
best way to do that is for yon and me to marry," said
Wat, << and leave them twa to shift for themselyes."

<< O that wad be so grand I" said she.

Though this was the thiag nearest to honest Wat's
heart of all things in the worid, he only made the pro-
posal by way of joke, and as such he supposed himself
answered. Nerertheless, the answer made the hairs
of his head creep once more. " My truly, but that wad
gar our firiend Jock loup twa gates at ance 1" rgoined
Wat.

^ It wad be the grandest trick -that ever was played
upon man," said she.

<< It wad mak an awfu' sound in the country," said
Wat

WAf *S COURTSHIP. 39

^^It wad gang through the twa shires like a hand-
bdl/' said she.

<< Od» I really think it is worth onr while to try%"
said he.

<' O by a' manner p' means T' cried she, clasping her
hands together for joy.

Wal 8 Inreath cut shorty and his visage began to alter.
He was likely to acquire the hlesmng of a wife rather
more suddenly than he anticipated^ and he began to
wish that the giii migfat be in her perfect senses. " My
dear M — " said he, << are you serious ? would you
really consent to marry me ?'*

<< Would I consent to marry you I" reitenited she.
« That is siccan a question to speer I"

« It %8 a question," said Wat, "and I think a very
natural ane.

<< Ay, it is a question, to be sure," said she ; " but it
is ane that ye ken ye needna hae put to me to answer,
at least till ye had tanld me wheth^ ye wad marry me

or no."

^ Yes, faith, I will — there's my hand on it," eagerly
exclaimed Wat. " Now, what say ye ?"

^ No," said she ; — ^^ that is, I mean— -yes."

" I wonder ye war sae lang o' thinking about that,"
said Wat. <^ Ye ought surely to hae tauld me sooner."

<* Sae I wad, if ever ye had speered the question
said she. . .

n

40 Tm UnEPHBSD't CAUmOAtL

"^ Wbtt a stupid idiot I WW r ezdaiMd Watr ttd
npped on the floor with his stick for the 1— dhwrd.
<< An it be your will, sir, we want a minister,'^ says
Wat.

*' There's one in the house, sir/' said the koidlord,
diucklingwithjoy at the prospect efsofliefiBii* ^Kesp
a daily chi^lain here— Tlnrlstaiie's motto, * Aye ready.'
Coold ye no contriye to do without him ?"

<^ Na, na, sir, we're folk frae the country," said Wal$
<< we hae corned fax and foul gate for a preefat h«t bo*
nest hand-fasting,"

<< Quite right, quite right," said my landlord* ^ Nerer
saw a more comely country couple* Your hasiiiess is
done for you at once ;" at the same time he tapped on
the hollow of his hand, as much as to say, some re-
ward must be forthcoming. In a few minutes he r»*
turned, and setting the one cheek in at the side of llie
door, said, with great rapidity, << Could not contrive to
do without the minister, then ? Better ?•— no getting
off again. Better ?«*what ? — Can't do without him ?"

<< 0 no, sir," said Wat, who was beginning a long
explanatory speech, but my landlord cut him short, by
introducing a right reverend diTine, more than half«*
seas over. He was a neat, well-powdered, cheerful
little old gentl^naa, but one who never ai^ed any far*
ther wanant Ux the marrying of a couple, than the full
consent of parties. About this he was very particulari

andrSdTiiMed'lihflmy in strong set phrase^ tabewtre of
enkinng'raaUy inta that state ordained for the ha|ip»-
nem-of mankind,. Wat thought he was ad\wig him
against the match, bnt told him he was very particulaiv
lymiMbtd^ Parties soon eame to a right understand-
ing, the match was made, the mixiister had his fee, and
aft^ficwprds he and the landlord invited themselves to
the honour, and very particular pleasure, of dinii^ with
thft young couple at two.

What has become of Jock the Jewel and his part-
ner all this while ? We left them stahled in a mossy
moisr^,' surrounded with haggs, and bogs, and imres,
ever]^.4Mie«of which would have taken a horse over the
badi: ;,a|i least so Jock's g^eat strong plougfarhorse sup*
posed, for he became so terrified that he absolutely re*-
fused to tftke one of them* Now, Jock's^ horse hap-
pened to be wrong, for I know the moor very weU»
and there is not a bog <m it all, that will hold a iMN^e
stilL But it was the same thing in eififect to Jock and
the Eigle-^tbe horse would have gone eastward or
we^ward akusg and along and along the sides of these
little darjc stripes, which he mistook for tremendous
quagmires ; or if Jock would have suff(^ed hint to turn
his head homeward, he would, as Jock said, have gaW
loped; Cor joy ; but northwards towards Edinburgh,
never a^tep would be proceed. Jock, tbiashed hkn at
one time, stroked his mane at another, at, one tiino

42 niB SHBPHSRD's CAVeSDAXL

eoazed, at another cnned him, till, vltiiiiatelyv on tiie
hone trying to force his head homewaid in apite of
Jock, the latter, in hi^ wrath, stmck him a hlow on
the far ear with all his might. This had ihe effect of
making the animal take the motion of a horizontal
wheel, or millstone. The weight of the riders fell
naturally to the outer side of the circle— Jock held hy
the saddle, and the Eagle held by JodL — ^till down
came the whole concern with a thump on the moss.
^< I daresay, that beast s gane mad the night," said Jock;
and, rising, he made a spring at the bridle, for the horse
continued still to reel ; bat, in ibe dark, our hero min-
ed his hold — off went the horsey like an arrow out of a
bow, and left our hapless couple in the midst of a black
moor.

" What shall we do now ? — shall we turn badf ?*'
said Jock.

" Turn back I'* said the Eagle ; <' certainly ^ot, uh»
less you hae ta'en the rue."

« I wasna thinking o* that ava," said he ; " but, O,
it is an unfortunate-like business — I dinna like their
leaving o' us, nor can I ken what's their meaning."

" They war fear'd for being catched, owing to the
noise that you were making," said she.

^< And wha wad hae been the loser gin we had been
catched ? I think the loss then wad hae faun on me,"
said Jock.

WINDOW wax's COUBTSHIF. 43

<< We'll come better speed wanting the beast," said
^e ; " I wadna wonder that we are in EUlinburgh afore
them yet."

Wearied and splashed with mud, the two arrived at
the sign of the Harrow, a little after noon, and instantly
made inquiries for the bride and best-man. A descrip-
tion of one man answers well enough for another to
people quite indi£ferent. Such a country gentleman
as the one described, the landlady said, had called twice
in the course of the day, and looked into several rooms,
without leaving his name. They were both sure it was
Wat, and. rested content. The gentleman came not
back, so Jock and the Eagle sat and looked atone an-
other. *•*• They will be looking at the g^^and things o'
this grand town," said she.

<< Ay, maybe," said Jock, in manifest discontent.
<' I couldna say what they may be looking at, or what
they may be doing. When folks gang ower the march
to be married, they should gang by themselves twa.
But some wadna be tauld sae."

^ I canna comprehend where he has ta'en my sister
to, or what he's doing wi' her a' this time," said the
Eagle.

<< I couldna say," said Jock, his chagrin still increa-
sing, a disposition which his companion took care to
cherish, by throwing out hints and insinuations that
Jkepthim constantly in the fidgets; and he seemed to

44 THE shepherd's calrnbar.

be repenting heartily of the step he had taken. A late
hour arrived, and the two, having had a sleepless nig^
and a toilsome day, ordered supper, and apartments
for the night. They had not yet sat down to supper,
when the landlord requested permission for two gentle-
men, acquaintances of his, to take a glass together in
the same room with our two friends, which bdng
readily granted, who should enter bnt the identical
landlord and parson who had so opportunely buckled
the other couple I They had dined with Wat and his
bride, and the whisky-toddy had elicited the whole
secret from the happy bridegroom. The old gentle-
men were highly tickled with the oddity of the adven-
ture, and particularly with the whimsical situation of
the pair at the Harrow ; and away they went at length
on a reconnoitring expedition, having previously settled
the measures to be pursued.

My landl(»*d of the White Horse soon introduced
himself to the good graces of the hapless couple by his
affability, jokes, quips, and quibbles, and Jock and he
were soon as intimate as brothers, and the maid and he
as sweethearts, or old intimate acquaintance. He com-
mended her as the most beautiful, handsome, courteous,
■and accomplished country lady he ever had seen in his
life, and at length asked Jock if the lady was his sister.
No, she was not Some near relation, perhaps, that he
bad the charge of.— N<>«^^'< Oh ! Beg pardon — ^per-

vnKDow Wat's courtship. 45

ceive very well— *plain — evident— wonder at my blind-
ness,*' said my landlord of the White Horse — << sweet*
heart — sweetheart? Hope 'tis to be a match? Not
take back such a flower to the wilderness nnplucked-—
unappropriated that is — to blush luseen — waste sweet*
ness OB the desert air ? What? Hope so ? £h ? More
sense than that^ I hope ?"

<< You mistak, sir ; you mistak. My case is a very
particular ane/' said Jock.

^* I wish it were mine, though," said he of the White
Horse.

<< Fray, sir, are you a married man ?" said the Eagle*

^ Married ? Oh yes, mim, married, and settled in
life, with a White Horse," returned he.

<< A grey mare, you inean," said the Eagle.

<< Excellent ! superlative V exclaimed my landlord.
<' Minister, what think you of that ? Vm snubbed —
cut down— shorn to the quick I Delightful girl I some-
thing favoured Uke the young country bride we dined
wiUi to-day. What say you, minister? Prettier, though
-^Qpidedly prettier. More animation, too. Girls frottt
the same country-side have always a resemblance."

*< Sir, did you say you dined with a Inide from our
countiryoside?" said Jock* .. i <

^. Did so— ^d so."

w^^ What was the bridegroom like?"

^ f* A «<tft-4oles^«-miIk-and-water, '

2

Is^

:& Mt juiiiluni xsTv ike prgfarmce lo the Eagle in
:p&is»haie«L. Jocks kewt grew mellow,

:*: bl'

iwlKii aad wvpt ; and in short, they

fi9 bifd xhmi nl^cht a samed couple^ to the great
jtfT of ike Ei^rle *5 hcan ; for it was nerer once donhted
that the whi>£e scheaMF was a contfiranoe of her own —
a b<^ itFokje to «et hold of iha mn with the money.
She knew Wat would manrj her sister at a word or hint,
and then the Jewel had scarc^ an alternative. He
took the dksaf pointment and affront so much to heart,
^hat he removed with his £a^ to America, at the
Whilsanday following, where their niocess was heyond
aaatkripatioi^ and where they were hoth living at an ad«
vanced age about twelve years ago^ without any survi-
ving £unily.

A BTRANOB SECRET^ 49

CHAPTER IL

A STRANGE SECRET.

Some years af^ a poor man named Thoinas Hen-
dersoRcame to me^ and presented me with a letter from
a yalned friend. I allowed soHie little kindness to the
man; and as an adcRowledgment, he gare me an ac-
count of himselfy in that plain, ample, and drawling
style, which removed all doubts c^ its authenticity. His
story, as awhole, was <me of very de^intersat to him-
self, no doiiht, hnt of yery Httle to me, as it would be
to the world Rt large if it wwe repeated ; but as one
will rarely listen»to even the most common^place in-
dividual without hearing something to reward the at*
tention bestowed upon him, po there was one incident
in this man Henderson's life which excited myeurionty
very much. I shall give it nearly in his own wocds :—

I was nine years a servant to the Bad ofn i , (said
he,) and when I left him, he made me a handsome, pre-
sent ; but it was on condition that I should never w^gosL

VOL. II. c

50 THE SUf9ff]^§,fik^^f^J^

conainduBahimdrednUai.oflikJiaiH^ TbfB.initb
i% that I would haTe been there to thi? d/^p J|Md I
not chanced to come at the kpowledget jgi^ Mq^ie-
thing lelating to the bmily that I pegbt x^t .to l^oe
known^ and which I never would have koawivljiid
I gotten my own will* When the anld JBaili^ed,
theie waa an nnco confiudan^ and at length tbe. yomig
Lord came hame frae abroad, and toke the #^ffiTnfgMir
He hadaa been master about twa fwn whax be imgs
the bell ae morning, and aeods forme. Iwaamerdy
a.gHMMi» and no naed to gang iq[» ataira ta my JUwd ;
bnthe irfien spoke to me in the staUea, ^ I lHi4'lil^
charge o' his feyonritea Cleopatra and Vennsy a^i^ J[
tboaght he wanted to gie me some directions, .about
tkem. • Weely up the stair .1 rias, wanting the. ji^chul
and bonnet, and I opms the door, and I saysy ^^WIM
18% my Loid ?'*««-«^.' Shat tbe dooi^ and ceme.in," mjs
bBk. Uaohl what- in 4be world is ia the^iriad-,mi£vrl
tfaDdLaL Amlganntobeiiaulesemegcand-sitcaQle^^

«< Tom, has the Iiady Juliaordeiad tfie {C^iafli ^
dayB'iisaini^het ..-;u . .- n..'^ i.«,/. ,.

** I belieye she has, my I^srd^ X^tVjW^ J^o^to^.lfnvi

^ «* Aiidi» alistitt t^iiybMOd i^t e^

.^. That wioBtkhfi. htmfH itiU^ Hept(Wi w m>.^r,Wf^
But tbere isiiitdefdouh^AM^itr ii to^thfl^ saiaf^ijpi^qG^
She.neyer drives to ony other."

A STRANGE SECRET. 51

^' Tom, I was long absent from home, but you have
been in the family all the while, and must know all its
secrets— What is it supposed my sister Julia has al-
ways ado with the forester's wife at the shieling of
Aberducfara?''

^ That has never been kenn'd to ane o' us, my Lord*
But it is supposed there is some secret business con*
nected wi' her visits there."

^< That is a great stretch of suppositkm, indeed, Tom !
Of that there can be no doubt. But what do the ser-
vants suppiose (^secret relates to? (>ridiat4»9Dti
snppdSi^coiiceniing it? Come, tell me homesEtlyitand
frerff?'-^-- ■-■..-'. .-.- ■

''Ou/itttebody kens that, my Lord; ivr Ladyi Jailiat
just !%hts Rt a certain point o' ^o road^ asd etdentkt
coach to be there again at a e^rtaiR how«t<'iiight;' and
that's B^ that has ever been keaui'd about iilUMBut we
a' notice that Lady Julia is sair altered. And folks they
88yUJbura« ta that i am %n<Nrant'-««4i]iey ny, .fe keuy
that aoSd Eppie Oowan's A ^ti^'^ ' i Hn<

<< And that it is on some business of 'tncbBiitment
or divination timt my sister goes to her?*' ■ m-.^'^' •

<< Na, na, I dinna say that, my Lord ; for a' tkalbl aay
is just this, that I beMeVe naebody in ttn^worU^ ex-.
ceptingLady Jufia andauld £ppie» tliemMBs twa, kens
what their business is tfaegidieri or how^ they^ came to.
be connected.''

s^

krty tm kmem* Do ym-wl wit jwt avw^; *9» ofw
file Aoaidyf BtMy-V^jJ^ifiArwgbmiiM Fliht,
^ dM siniglrt iMli; ^ Vm AliiiiAnkiyliitfiiB ay
■iBtwr;copcgdyoqfwJf auiyciilMttCyaitlinkiwMaapawt
of tlM boQi0, in » ^kbt or is s IM( Mte fli llM
yiii <et Lady Jidi^€agiyd»*>4ifko wiiwii lnnjlij

^•wliBt they doy asd wliBt4ii8yflif9.HBd.1ini9t»fi4
trae leport of erery tfamg ; and ywrnr-nrnwAtimll^itB
mittoMhg to yomr anceenk 'k:i! ,ii;/'

iWti, tf I tini, iMd#iwrtii»iiakrtih> iMwnMri
M»«iffkJNMl i4ifoi^ I got ayiflil OBttakidy €v;«dd
Bp^ WHS TuimiBg oat and in, and in and o«t agan^in
aa«wat<yke,weeilMnpingwliaw»tobe>ii»yiHil>ttiwl

diqr'^iBruBiiHy tameualie eaat to the 4oar aha^ja^iacJaag
l«iik4oimi the^f^aa^ md then a' naidiniwwrt lar^ttt if
feaiad'Ibr Mnf catdied in a faaltk : u v • .- i . : « nn .
't^had-^y^iiM tme f«i up to iheUtpml ajgroatalait
tl^il^at«too«t«yeFloaked theiloo» o'Jtha dbWiidgytat
wltoil i saw the «M twideM loaking nbont»liBrane
i|iffttlyv^i.fNPfr frighted ; for i thoi^t^ if aba bneonteh^
I^^ihall aooii' be vKtocri'wed ; ■ and liun^ dboaldjdhaieJBM
Oftf MMripa^Mt Aiaydamftiander ma^ 4ir shovld Isne
flli;^«te<pat.«ia beaidaaiysett^ ^at sl^M iimnOkJg&kt
I^iMid iWW »haa fi«ft aS'dia ctaes on<jn;f backnta fanv
b(M^%lite!dMHVJagU%«Md IumI l>egm^«ttadyii0qaUc
dMMM^hW^ ^MMtti^ndd^Ladf Julin «<Mnii% ttV>%

up thagl«iv.wilii aanifaBt tn^vklJ^n iu* bes vMilmw.
My heart began. b«w to quake like^la aq>€iilea^ for 1
8iiqMdciedl«>lba(t>4Mine aaresooae aoenefwae-gaim to be
traasaot^ thai oe«l4 Iniiig tbe acfM»ii^l]4i^
lia«t0« thatr(iidki retired jpot. . And yet wbeoL «he drew
neat^ ber HiodeitiiiieB and. fading, beauty vnm sae^nuK
Uke toiiy«thmg wicked er heUiah^ that«*t4n abort I didm
keBiwbyt^to thnkeF what to £ear, but I bad a eonaidec*
ableiattewiuieao' beitbr

Witb many kind and obseqnioua conrteaie^ did-okl
^|»]a«BBttTe»4he lady on the greeiv and after ej(cban-
ging^^fewiwtank)' Aey both Tanisbed mtotbe.^aottagOK
aad'ibiQMbB door.* Now^ tbinki I^ the. infernal wnxk
wfll' begins but goodneaa be tbankity i'U aeei; nanteo't
fini0iiiarabr^ chained my ^see <m the trae^ bowaver^
andHcaai^ $» near to the top of the lumjiathe brancfaea
would eairy me. From tb^ice i heard- the voi^en of
the ^tii«%> bait knew not what thoy ,were,aa>vig*. •']3ie
Lady^iUki'a yoice waa seldom henrdy bninrbonit! wmk
itted^die eoaacb of Agony ; «Bd I .certainly Jibought the
wa» Jnpkirkiif the.^ Jmg to deaia^ frop^.toin^thlPg
wyab4h£r>otheBpefai8tediin.< .Xbey<nce.o£.the li^tter
nevet cijajod ; it wwliwab witb ane4Xintiiiiie4iiniMnbl%
likovitteeoand'Of aidiatant wateiiiBU, The aonnds atiU
iiioieaaady^Hid I aometimee made myaelf believe that I
heai4'dM vmeof » third person; I cannot tell what
I wonkl dieft bare giren to have heard what was going

54 TBE shicphbkd's calendar.

on, but though I strained my hearing to the nttennost,
I conld not attain it.

At length, all at once, I heard a piercing Bfaridc,
which was followed by low stifled moanings. ^ They
are murdering a bairn, and what wiU I do F*' Mdd I to
myself, sobbing till my heart was like to burst. And
finding that I was just upon the point of loafafg my
senses, as well as my hold, and falling from the tree, I
descended with all expedition, and straightway rah and
hid mysell under the bank of the bnm behind the boose,
that thereby I might avoid hearing the cries of liib anf-
fering innocent, and secure myself from a felL

Now, here shall be my watch, thinks I ; for here
I can see every ane that passes out frae or into the
house ; and as for what is gaun on in the inside^ tiiat*s
mair than I'll meddle wi*.

I had got a nice situation now, and a sale ane^ for
there was a thick natural hedge of briers, broom, and
brambles, down the back o' the kail-yard, lliose orer-
hung the bum-brae, so that I could hide mysell frae
every human ee in case of great danger, and ihere was
Ian opening in the hedge, through which I could see aU
that passed, and there I cowered down on my knees^
and lay wi' my een stelled on that shiefing o' sin and
iniqmty.

I hadna lain lang m this position lall oitt cmnes the
Iwasome, cheek for chowe, and the auld ane had a cof-

jSu, .uojto her ana ;.f^4 ^t^^raight on. tl^y coioqs fqr the
very opening o* the hedge where I was lying. Now,
ILtu^Jjil'in^ gone.mai^; for in below this very bank
, w}|ere I am sitting are they coming to hide the co^se
o'l tbepo^r bairn) and bere ten might lie till they con-
f^met]^^^ ]^llLe^n'd to the haill warld* Ay, here tfiey are
.«o;^ilig9,iiidee49( for there is not another bit u^ the l^hole
r tluiQl^t.whecQ they can win through; ai^d in half ami-
qnj^I will have the i^itcb and the miir4eress baith hing-
ing At my throat like iyr^ wullpats I---^ w^ fumce Ji^t
^ttiQg a' my joints to make a plean ly la^h dpwn ^the
middle.<^ th^ bum like an otter ; but the power was de-
j[[lie4ine| and a' th^t I could do, wi^ to ^wjp;iysell
, iClosQ into my cove, like a har? into her form : and there
^I,liat and hearfl the following dialogue, an^ I thi^ Ije-
member it every word. ,,, , .

.^ Nc^, my good Eppie, are you cert^ t||at^iiy per-
. rpon .^ill .come upon us, or within vi^w «of us, before we
.,|pav(^,^Pfie?," (Good Eppie I thinks I| He^^^re-
,fi^»erire,i» a' frae sic goodne^ I) .„i_,^^„,

,^„ u4^,AY9 «7> If eel am I sure o' that, Leddy Ju^y,' to my
' u ^ g«)i^4num:is oil the watch; and I^ has a signal that
>.«^^ylffin^.wlucki«iU warn us in goo4 tim^ ^9.^7 1^7
,,T8lwre,Ae-lii^TWiay;\ , ^ ^ ^

^< Then open the lid, and let me look into it once
mt wm!% % Ae poo^i^iaiMiBate renwiflf^tfiatjarp fn that

^ ^^^f/u^^^Jif^'^^^A}^DAR.

ifij^^il^jiotbing el^ Ui„4m^.vaiit^ q|a ^«v have again.
O my dear boy I My coinely> my beautifiil, my anr-
ifged boy!" r .•*< -r > - ■•:: . . '> .

.t.^euQ Lady Julia iNvat ialp ^ibi.mMt w4ent and
pawioyiata gne6dbgnek}BgaQil;WaaiiK^lxkeoiieuidiB-
tr^yctjyoa^ I was terrified out o' a'.boivuia^biitl ^nld-
n% help tbijaking to myaril what a alrapgiaiacoaBiiteDt
croatore a wov&an was, £nt to takte aiMyaidaai' Uttle
bo/s life, and then rair and scraugfa otw uriiatdie had
(pone, lik^ a madwoman I Her passion. 9910 «ae>vk^ent
aq^ 8ai».loud that I couldna take up wbatth^auld c&ono
if§^ saying» although her tongue never lay for a mo«
ment ;.but I thought a the time that she waa tiying to
pacify and comfort Lady Julia ; and I thoughl I jbeard
her saying dmt.the boy Wasna murdered* Ndw^^iinks
1» that dings a' that ever I heard I: If a man a^oo im^
domtands a woman, ho'^needna be feared- to try oxight

..•^^ N9W.h«:e they are, my Leddy July, jistaa your
own. fair hands laid thenu There « no ane V/thmii oat
oVlts place yet* There they a' liey little and mvckle,
ktifi Ibei Cronnii o'. dto head to the soles o' the feet.'
:< '< Chide fargietha woman I" aays I tomysell-<>-<< Cini
these be the banes o* bairns that she ia^peakikig abom ?
Itf jilf a qtiositioQ how mony.has been put isto that black
kilt, afoo^lhia timei aaid there their banei^'will be lying,

'■ \i»M. ,a\;> .;■■. i^.cu.'Kii ,^». .' ' . ,

A STRANOA 8BCRBT. 57

tier aboon tier» like the eotttents of a caadlemaker^s

<< Look, here is the first, my Leddy. This is the first
year's anes. Thea, belowthat sheet o' silver paper, is the
•eoond year's, and <m sae to tiie third and the fotorth."

i didna tlunk there had been as nnu^le widkedness
in^hnman ttat«Mre» tiionght I ; but if thae twa escape out
o' this world widiovt some reesible joc^ent, I'm nnco
sair MJstaen I

^-Come aow, Leddy July, and let ns gae through
them a' regakuiy; and gie ower greeting. See^ as J
said, this contains the first year's snits of a' kinds, and
here» amang others, is the frock he was bi^teezed in,
far^ J&r Irae here. Ay, we^ I mind that day, and sae
may ye, Leddy July; when the Bishop flung 1^ wa-
ter on your boy's face, how the little chub looked at
him I £ch— «ch-<^-ech — ^I'U never foi^et it I He didna
whimper and whine, like ither bairns, but his little arms
gae a quiver wi' anger, and s^c a look as he gae the
priest I Ay, it was as plain as he had said it in gude
ScotSy < Billy, I'll be about wi' you for this yet !' He
-.4ie-^he-— my brave boy I Ay, there needed nae con-
fessions, nor parish registers, to declare wha was his
father 2 < Fai^; billy, I'll be about wi' you for this in*-
#ultl' He— lie— he! That was what he thought plains
ly enough, and he looked very angry at the Bishop the
haill night. — O fie> Leddy July^dinna stain the bonny

c2

58 THE 8HEPHEIID*8 CALENDAR.

frock wi' your tears. Troth, they are aae worm and
sae saut, that they will nerer wash oat again. There
now, there now. We will hing tliem a' ont to the son
ane hy ane."

Shame fa' my stupidity I thought I to myselL Is
the haill terrihle affair endit in a bichel o' hahy-clouts ?
— ^I then heard that they were moring ftarther away
from me, and ventured to peep through the boughs,
and saw the coffin standing open, about three feet from
iny nose. It was a small low trunk, corered tHth green
yelvet, lined with white satin, and filled with clothes
that had belonged to a princely boy, who, it appeared
from what I oveiiieard, had either been privately mur-
dered, or stolen away, or had somehow unaccountably
di^pt>eaied. This I gathered from the parts of the
dialogii^e i^t reached me, for always ndien they came
iiear to the trunk, they were close beside me, and I
heard every word t but as they went farther away, hang-
ing out the bairn's claes to air, I lost the parte be^weuL.
Auld Eppie spake without intermission, but Lady Ju-
lia did little else save cry, and weet the different parts
of the dress with tears. - It was excessively affecting
to see the bonny young lady, tdia was the flower o* the
haill country, bending ower a wheen claes, pressing
them to her bosom, and greeting till the very heart
within her was like to melt, and aye crying, between
ifevery fit o' sobbing, " O my boy, my dear boy I my

noble, my bieautiful Jkj^ I, JJqw mjf.^riji^^;fpatj^ .^p!^
theft I Oh, Eppie* rSifkY yau never k»pw /w^^^t, ^ ^3,|p
hare^hm^iV^ <«jjy ^on, ^4 t».be feere^Fied ,pjf,,hii^j^
such a way as I have been !" ,.,■„.«

At one time I heard the old wife say^ " $ee^|^^ is
the^silk coi;$let that he wore next his briea^j^. tjl^t-v^y
day/' xm n^l^di the Xiady Julia seized the liHl^.lf^c)^^
an^ii'i'^^t an hundred, times, and then said^ ,^< ^9f
it once. w^. warmed in his dear little bospiPj^i]!^,^!^
ney^ oo<d iigain as long as his mother s js y^/^^^I ,^
^W^ sh^^laeed the relic in her breast, yveepiQj^^^^V

Sppie's anecdotes of the boy were.withouf fOP^d^ Jt^
bei^eaved and beautiful mother often rebuking 4iei;^|)j|i^t
all ti^ while manifestly indulging in a painful pl(^^i[<p.
She showed her a pair of trews thait wpre ^cf^jpvf^
and added, << Ah, I ken brawly what m^^.th^^^
dim* His foster-brother, Ranidd, and, he y^^, 9j^(P
fine painted butterfly one day* Tlie crea^i^re i(polf.^^pi^
a mire, a perfect stank. Ranald stopped; ^^r|,(J|>)|t
Lewie made a bauld spring to dear it. . He I^afrdljf^T^
by the middle^ where he stuck up to the waisli i^MFf?*
Afoce my goodman reached him, there W9» naei^lujflg
aboott but the blue bonnet and the feather. , :^. You JA-
tle imp, how gat you in there?' said my bus)^i^B||i|d.
< That's not your concern, sir, but hoiv^ 1^ sh^jtl glA^^
again,' said the little pestilence* Al^*be^^^^^ l^^/^^^WIi

60 THE SU£PHERD*8 CALENDAR.

that had the kind heart when kindneM was shown to
him ; but no ae thing in this Versal world wad he do
by compulsion. We could nerer make him compre-
hend the power of death ; he always bit his lip^ and
icoiyled wi* his eebrows, as if determined to insist it.
At first he lield him at defiance, threatening to abeot
or run him through the body; but when cheeked so
that he durst not openly defy him) his resoIutioBi was
evidently unchanged. Ha I he was the gallant boy ;
and if he lives to be a man, he winua have his match
in the three kingdoms."

<< Alack, alack, my dear boy," exclaimed Lady Jn-
lia ; ^< his beauty is long ago defiEu:ed) his princely form
decayed, and his little unripe bfuies lie mouldering in
some pit oar cimcealed grave. Perhaps he was. flung
from these rocks, and his £ur and mangled lomn be-
came the prey of the raven or the eagle."

The lady B vehemence some way affected my heart,
and raised sicoana disposition in me to join her in cry-*
ing, that in spite o' my heart, I fell a-fiiffing like a goose
as I was, in below the bum-brae. I was overheard ;
and then all was silence and consternation for about
the space of a minute, till 1 hears Eppie say, '^ Did you
bear that, Leddy July? What say ye ? What in the
world was that ? I wish there may be nae concealed
spies. I hope nae unhallowed ee has seen our wark the
day, or unblest ear heard our words I £h ?

A STRANG£ 8£CKET. &l

. Neck butt, neck ben,
I find the smell o* quick men ;
But be he liTing or be he dead,
« rU grind his bones to mix my bread."

So saying) the old hag in one moment rushed throi^
the thin part of the brake, by a retrograde motion, and
^kapping down frcHnthe hanging bank, she lighted' pre-
cisely with a foot on each side of my neck, . Itried to
withdraw my head quietly and peaeeably, but she held
me as if my head had been in a vice, and, with the moot
unearthly y^, called ouK for a knife I a knife I I had
now no other resource left but to make a tremeadoua
bok forward, by which I easily overturned the old dame,
and off Iiaa plash for plash down the bun^ t^ I came
to an opening, by which I reached tho only padk down
the glen. I had lost my bonnet, bat got off wdth my
head, which was more than the roudees inteeikd.

Such screaming and howling as the twO'Caffried On
behind me; I never heard* Tfaeiv grond secpei was now
out p and I suppose they looked open the. dlscovisryae
vlitet ruin, for both of them> knew mei perlisctiy well,,
and guessed by whom I had been smu I oiide the
. best of my Way home, whese I anived/befove dark, and
-gave my'mastK^ the £arl» a lull and fiuthfol accoont
of all that I had seen and all that I had heacd. He
saHl mbi a word until I had ended^ but his face grew
dJEuck, and his eyes as red a» a coal, and I easily per-
ceived that he repented having sOnt me. Wh^oilhad

62 THE shepubrd's calbndaa.

ooncladed my narratiTe, he bit Us lip for some time,
and then said, in a low smothered Toiee^-— ^ I see how
it has been — I see how it has been ; I nnderatand it all

perfectly welL" Then, after a diort pause, he eoiitiniM4
<< I beiieve, Tom, it will be imsafe for yon to stay lon^
here ; for, if you do, you will not be aliye till to-mor-
row at midnight* Therefore haste to the sooth, and neTor
ftn* your life come north of the Tweed again, or you aie
a dead man, depend on that. If you promise me this,
I will make yon a present of L.iO, orer and above your
"wages ; bat if yon refuse, I will take my chance of h»*
'ving your motions watched, and you may take yonia."

As I had often heard hints that certain officious peo*
pie had TBiUBhed from my Lord's mansion before this
time, I was glad to make my escape ; and taking him
at his offer, I was conveyed on shqiboard that same
night, and have never again looked towards the north.

« It is a great pity, Thomas," said I, when he had
finished this recital, <^ that you can give me no account
of the boy-*-»who8e son he was, or what became of hkn.
Was Lady Julia ever married ?"

I couldna say, sir. I never heard it said either that
she was married, or that she was not married. I nev^
had the alightest su^icion that she was married tfll
that day ;- but I o^tainly believe sinsyne, that she ainee
had been married at ony rate. Last year I met with
one John Ferguson from that country, who told me the

A STRANGE SECRET. 63

Earl was dead, and that there was some dispute about
the heirship, and that some strange secrets had come
out ; and he added, << For you know very weel^ Tho«
maSf I thai that fiimily nerer oonld do any thing likd
other people."

<^^ Think yon there is no person in that coimtry to
whmn I eonld vpply,'* sud I, *< for a developement of
tfacBO'mysterions drcnmstances ?''

**^ There is only one persim," said Hendersoo^ ^and
I am sure he knows every thing about it, and that is
the Bish(^ ; for he was almost constantly in the fomilyi
was Kent for on every emergency, and was often away
on long jaunts wi^ Ljidy Julia alone* I am sura he
can inform you of every drcnmstance ; but then it is
almost certain either that he will not dare, or thai he
will not dioose, to disclose thenu"

This 8t<Hy of Henderson's made so strong an im-
pression upon me that I could not r^rain from addres-
sing a letter to the Bishop, requesting, in as polite terms
as I could, an explanation of the events to whidi it re«
fertred. I was not aware that the reverend pr^te had
'been in any way personally connected with the events
referred to, nor did his answer expressly admit that he
was ; but I could gather from it, that he had a very in-
timate share in them, and was highly offended at the

64 TUEOIKPilKBDS

liberty I had takeo, wpon an arqimintafice that wb eer'
tKoaly ali^ity of addrendiig him on Uie ntbjettm 1 ivat
■ony that I alMwki imwe wmdmrtimtltf ^atubed faia le-
Tonenca'a eqaanimhy, for his leplf betrayBd'-s^ gpiM
deal of angry feeting; and as in it he took the laoaMa
of entering at some length into ft defisiiee of the RoHan
Catholie religioDy against wUeh I had maflhi ad iiiMni-
ation^ nor even once reiorred to it» I sttipeetod that
liMie had been something wrong, and, moie and more
lesidved to get to the bottom of the «ffiur> I iieict wrote
to Uie Phytestant clergyman of the plaoeu His r^ly
informed me that it was altogether out of hie pow«r to
ftmiish the information desired, inasmuch as he had
come to the pastoral chai^ge of his parish many yean
anbaeipiently to the period alluded to; and the Eavlof

^'s family being Catholic, he had no iaterconBrae with

them. It was considered imsafe to meddle with diem,
he said ; they had the reputation of being a dangerous
iBoe, and, interfering with no man's affiiirs, allowed no
interfiBrenoe with theirs. In condunon, however, my
tererend ocxre^Mudent referred me to a Mr Mac-
Tayish, tenant of InnismcM^ as one who possessed
more knowledge coaoerning the Earl's family than any
one out of it. This person, he farther stated, was soTev-
ty years of age, and had Hred in the district all hia Wb,
thougfar the late Earl tried erery means to remoye him.
Availing myself of this clew, I made it my business

A STRANGE SECRET. 65

to address Mr MacTavish in such a way as was most
likely to. ensure compliance with my wishes. I was at
BOBie {>aios to. .procure iatroducti(ms, and establish a
sort, of acquaintance with him, and at last succeeded in
gaining a detail of the circumstances, ia so far as he
knew them^ connected with the adventure of Henderson
at the shieliag pf Abwduchra. This d^t^ll-was given
me in- a seiaes of letters of -difif««nt dates, and many of
them at long intervab frcHn each other, whiqh I sJudl
tah» the liberty of thit>wjng into a c^mti^iouB narra-
tive, retaining, however, the old gentleman s own way
of tellmg the st(Nry»

About the time when the French were all- to bekillr
ed inLeehaber (Mr MacTavish's narrative comm^nces)^
I was employed in raising the militia soldiers, and se
had often to make excursions through the country, both
by night and day. One morning, before dawn^ as I
was riding up the Clunie side of the river, I was-alanned
by perceiving a huge black body moving al<mg the road
before me. I knew very well that it was the cBogle of
Glastulochan, and kept at a respectful distance -behind
it. After I had ridden a considerable way in great
terror, but yet not daring to turn and fly, the light be-
came more and more clear, and the siee of the appari-
tion decreased, and, from a huge undefined mass,

66 THE sugpuerd's calendar.

gamed sundry shapesy which made it evident that it
meditated an attack on me, or, as I had some faint
hopes, to evanish altogether. To attempt to fly from
a spirit I knew to be needless, so I held on my way, in
great perturbation. At last, as the apparition mounted
an eminence over which the road winded^ and so came
more distinctly between me and the light, I discoyer-
ed that it was two persons on horseback, travelling the
same way as myself. On coming up, I recognised the
Popish Bishop accompaniedby the most beautiful young
lady I had ever seen.

^< Good morrow to you, pretty lady, and to you, reve-
rend sir," said I ; but not one of them answered a word.
The lady, however, gazed intently at me, as if she ex-
pected 1 had been some other, while the Bishop seem-
ed greatly incensed, and never once turned round his
head* I cannot tell how it was, but I became all at
lonce greatly in love with the lady, and resolved not to
part till I discovered who she was. So when we came
to the house of Robert MacNab, I said, << Madam, do
you cross the corrie to-day ?"

<< No,'' said she.

'< Then I shall stay on this side too,'' said I.

'< Young soldier, we desire to be alone," said the
Bishop, (and this was the first time he had spoken,)
« therefore be pleased to take your own way, and to
^ee us of your company."

A STRANGE SECRET. 67

<< By no meanB," said I ; *^ neither the lady nor your
Reverence can he the worse of my protection."

When I taid ^ your Reverence," the Bishop started,
and stared mie in the foce ; and after a long pause, once
more deored me to leave them. I would not do so,
however, although I must acknowledge my hehaviour
was exceeifingly improper ; hut I was under the influ-
ence of a strange fascination at the time, which I am
thie more convinced of now diat I know Ae events that
ha,ye followed upon that rencounter.

<< We travel hy the Spean," said he.

<* It is the nearest way," I replied, *^ and I shall go
that way too." The Bishop then hecame very angry,
and I, I must confess, more and more impertinent. ^ I
know hetter," said I, << than to trust a Popish priest with
tiudi a lovely and heautiful, and amiahle dear lady in
such a wild and lonely place. I bear his Majest/s com-
misdon, and it is my duty to protect all th6 ladies that
are his true subjects." Uns was taking a good deal
up<m me, but I thought I perceived that the Bishop had
an abashed look, as if detected in an affidr he was
ashamed of; and so I determined to see the end of it.
We travelled together till we arrived at Fort William,
where we were met by a gallant gentleman, who took
the lady from her horse, and kissed her, and made maoy
ibie speeches ; and she wept, and suffered herself to he
jed away towards the beach. I went with tbenii and

68 THE ftHEPHEBB'ft CALSKJDAB.

ihcre bebg s grett stir at the aliora^ and ie«iig ibift
they were going to take the lady oa board by laroe^ I
dnw my awards andadvaneaigtotliegrtlenMHi,ciii«

■■•dad kim Mt !• tike tke lady «A board aganai bar
willy addiof^ that she was milder my protectiiMa, .

<'Iaiheiiidaed»air?'* aaidha. ^^AMdi^aiynayXaafc
to whaaa ihe m indebted for thia load wmd gratnitoa»

« That l» to nyaal^ wr," said L

He poshed me aride ia high diadaia, and aa I coor
to show a di^MMitaon to oppcrae by force his
pm'poae of takhig the lady oa boards I was aurromui-
od by rtneJorten fellows who were in readinesa to act
upon hia 4md&n ; they disarmed me, and pemiiadihig
the qpectatoia that I was insane or intogdcated^ boand
me} aa the only meana of preveatiDg me from annoys
ing their maater. The indole party then went cm board^
and saHaddown ^M^fri^ ; and I saw no more of theiBi
nop diaoovwed' any move oonceming th»ladya|i thi^
time.- .-■....•

8oon after^na adventure) the Bishop retuiaed hom^
but iriianeivar he saw my ^MOyhe looked as if he had
seen a'aerpaat ready to spring on him* Many a a<»e
and heavy heart I had about the lady that I saw faUen
among the P^>iBt89 and carried away by them; batfi^
a long while I remained in ignorance who she waa,
hekig only able to ooi^ectnre that she was some yoang

A STRANOB SECRET. 69

woman about to be made a nun^^cookiary to her own
inetination. <

At lengtb a.fearfiil report. began to ifgiad tbrami^
tbs ooimtiy of the loss of Lady Jaliay aadiial bei^ ba*
▼ing be«L last seen in tbe company otf.heri osafaoor ;
bot the Bishop &eqn«ited the Ca8tie^ie;iHHno«as be-
foi«^ and thoef on people shook their heada-wbenoFtr
the subject was mentioned, as if much were miq>ecled»
though little durst be said. I. wondeNMl |^t}y if that
lady withiWhom.I fsU so much kkh^ye in>o«r, passage
through the Highlands, could bwre been this JUidy
Julia. My father died that year, jw I left theiegiiQent
in which I had beoi an officer, and being in Glasgow
about the end oi September, I went fronit thence in n
vessel to Fort- William. As we passed tbo island of
lUismore, alady came iw.board n^hef in^aeecMt man-
ner. She had « maid^servant witbJber, ladio eaiaiedja
cfaihL. The moment the lady stepped i^ Iha.tabip's
side, I perceiFod it to be the identical beauti£di oniatupe
widi vdiom I had fallen in the year befei», when, the
Bishop was carrying her away.' > But wfaa*^a» change
had 'taken place an her appearaacel her eewntenanca
wa» pale and emaciated, her loQk» dc^cted^: and tkm
seemed to be heart^rc^en. At e«r first iMneovnter^
she looked me full in the fooB, and Lsaw^/thatdieffo*
cognised me, for she hurried past me* into the cabia,
followed by her maid.

« .*

70 THE SU£PH£RD*8 CALENDAR.

When we came to the f ortressi and were paying our
fiuneBy I observed some dispute between the lady and.
the mate or master of the boat and a Weet-Islandery
the one charging her for boatpAunei and ibeother for
board and lodging. ^ I give yon my woid.of.hoiioii]^"
riiesaidy ^ diat you shall be paid doaUe your demands
in two wedcs; but at present I have .no means of
satisfying yo«i«"

<< Words of honoor won't pMscwrent bere^Qus-
treas," said the sailor; <« money or yaibe I must bay/s,
for I am but a senrant."

The West-Islander was less uncivil, and ejq^^wng-
his-reluctanoe to press a gentlewoman in a stfgit^ said,
if she would tell him who she was, he woiuk} nsk no
more security*

^< Yom are very good," said she^ as she wiped, av?ay
the tears that were streaming down her cheeks; hut
she would not tell her name. Her confusion and des*
pair became extreme, so much so, that I could no
longer endure to see one who appeared so ingenuous,
yet compiled to shroud herself in mystery, unifier so
much kom so paltry a cause ; and, interfoni^g, I satis-
fied the demands of the two men. The look of gra-
titude which she cast upon me was most expressiye ;
but she said nothing.. We tiavelled in company to
Inyemess, I supplying her with what money was ne*
oessary to meet the expenses of the road, which she

A STRANGE SECRET. 71

took without ofiering a word of explaaatioiL Before
we parted, she called me into an ^rartmMity and aso
snriii^'iBie'that I shoald «eoiirhear froiii her, she thank-
ed me' l^ri^y for the assistanee I had «£Ebrdeik«her*
<< And this little felk>w/' contmued dbe^ «< if he ii^ to
be a ittttE^ shall thai^ yon too for yonr }dadaess to his
mothe^.^ She then asked if I conld know ^diild
again, and I answered that I could not, all infeuEils wens
so much alike* She said thwe waa a good reason
why i/be wished t^t I ^uld be M^ to recognise the
child at any future period, and she would show me u
privttfe mark by which I should know Inm as h»g
as I lured. Baring his little bosom aoeordia^y,<ihe
displayed the mark of a gold ring, with a niby,innne*
diately below his left breast. I said it war a veryeii''
riotri mttt^ indeed, and one that I could not ntutake.
She neirt ifsked me if I was a Roman Catholic ?vbnt I
shook my heAd, and said, God fo9:bid I and so^* we

parted;" '■' ■ '^'- •••> 'ju '-v •■

I had learned fih&m the West-Islaadet^ tiiM^his laame
was Hfklcdm M'Lebdj a poor and h(Rie^^«Roniifli*Ga-
tholia, 'and that the thiid was bom mlat hotft^'^me
of thetnoirt retiibte plae^in 1^ wo#ld|'beiiEig*'bn«
sequSlfeiiefd and inftdceBsH>le peninsula la'DttMr^irfithe
We^tM' Isles« The infant had been baptized'^ pri*
rateiy by the Bishop of Illismore, by the name ^ Lewis

72 THE shbphbrb's calkndar.

William. Bat farther tke man ettiicr eonld mat or
would not give me any infonMitmu

Before I left IiiTmieoft I kaned tliat the kidy ma
no other than the noUe and fiur Lady JvUay andahdrt-
Ij after I got honae to LunanMire^ I leoeiTiad a hbek
lettOT, encloaiiig the ram I had ezpeaded en her bdMd£
Not long aftoTya meaaage caBMy desiring an to ooHw ez-
preas to the Bishop's house. Thiswaa^iHMileamemt
of ^ message, andalthoogfa no deinite objectwaa held
out to me, I undertook the journey. Indeedi thnmgh-
out the whole transactions connected wi^ tfaia aSur,
I cannot nndetstand what niotiyes they were that I
acted <m. It seems rather that I was inAoenced by a sort
of fatality throughout, as well as the other persona with
whom I had to deal. What human probability was
thore, for instance, that I would obey a smmnona of
this nature? and yet I was summoned. There was no
ioducemeot held o«t to procure my compliance wiA
the request; and yet I did comply with it. Upon what
pretext was I to gain admittance to the Bii^p'sbouae?
I could think of none. And if I am called upon to
tell how I did gain admitttfice, if it were not that sub-
sequent eyents demonstrate that my proceedings were
in acocHxIance willi the dedrees of a superior de^^y,
I should say that it was by the mere force of impu-
dence. As I approached the house, I heard there was
such a weeping, and screaming, and lamentation, that

8

A 8TBANOS SECRET. 73

I almost thought murder ^ros^going on within it. There
were many voices, aU speakiBg at once; hot the eries
were heard^abovo aU, «ad grew moi^ woliil and iHt-
ter. . W}ionI enteied the house^ whiehl 4aA. without
mnchi ceraniony, and 4nng op«Q the door of ihe
aparii|ient Irbra which the noise prooeeded, dmre 'Was
Lady Jnlia screamingin an agony of despair, and hold-
ing hear child to her bosom, who was crying as Utterly-
as hersalt . £^ was surrounded by ^ Bidiop and
three other gentlem^i^ one of them on his knees, as
if imploring her to consent to somethmg, and the
o^ief tb'ee using- gentle ftHrce to take the diild firom
her. My entrance seemed to strike them with equal
t^Tor and astonishment ; tiiey commanded me loudly
to retire; but I forced myself forward, while Lady
Julia called out and named me, saying I washo* friend
and protector. She wae .quite in a state of derange^
ment through agony and despair, and I was much
moved when I saw how she pressed her babe to her
bosom^ bathed him wilh tearS) and kissed him and
blessed hkn a thousand times.

^< O Mr MacTavish," cried die, << they are g<nng to
take my child from me,->Hmy doar, dear boy I and I
would rather part with my life. But they cannot take
my child from me if you will protect me* They can-
not— ^they cannot I" And in that way did she rave on,
regardless of all their entreaties.

VOL. II. D

74 THE 8HaPiaBI>*« CXLENDAR.

<< iiy dear Ijf4y JuUwb wJmft widiifiM has aeiaed
you ?'* a^id a FBTereml-WaluDg ganriemaiu << Ave you
goiag to bring nun on yoaiaelf aad your whole ftmily,
and to disgiace ibe holy raligioa whkh ymi {wofeM?
Did you not promiie th«k you would giye.up.the
chihl? did you not c^inohareiorthattpacial purpose?
and do not we all engage, in the moat aoleinn manner,
to tea him bred and educated aa beeomea hia hirth ?**

*^ No» no, no, no I'' cried die ; '< I cannot, I cannotl
I will not part with him I I will go with him to the
£Nrthe§t- ends of the world, where our namea were
iie?ec heard o^-— but, oh I do not separate me from
my. dear bpy V

The men stared at one another, and.held their, peace.

<< Madam," said I* '' I will willingly protect your
baby and you, if there is occasiMiu for itt as long as
theva is a drop of blood in my body ; but it strikes me
thaA these gentlemen are in the right, a|id tba^t you are
in :lha wrong. It is true, I speal^ in ignonmce of dr-
GunMtaaces ; but from all diat I can .gues^^ you cannot
doubt of your baby's safety, when all these honourable
man stapd security to you for him. But if it i& neces-
sary ifaat you shojuld part with him, and if , you will not
iotni8$ him to them„ giye him to me. I will hare him
nufted apd educated in. my own house, and under mine .
own eye."

<< You are very good— -you are very good I" said she,

A STRAK6E SECRET* 75

rather calmly. << Well, let this worthy gentleman take
Ae charge of him, and I yield to give him up."

*^ No, no V^ exclaimed they all at once, << no heretic
can have the charge of the boy; he mmgt be brought up
under our own auspices ; therefore, dearest Lady Julia,
betfaabftk you what you are doing, before you work your
own ruin, and hk ruin, and the ruin of us alL" ■ .

Lady Julia then burst into a long fit of weeping,
and I saw she was going to yield ; she, however, re-
quested permission to speal^ a few words with me ia
private. This was readily granted, and all of them re-
tired* When we were alone, she said to me softly,
<^ They are going to take my child from me, and I can- ■
not and dare not resist them any longer, for fear a
worse fiate befall him. But I sent for you to be a wit-
ness of our separation. You will know my poor hap-
less child as long as he lives, from the marie that I
showed you ; and when they force lum from me, O
watch where ihey take him, and to whatever quarter that
may be, follow, and bring me word, and high shall be
your reward. Now, farewell ; remember I trust in you,
•—end God be with you ! I do not wish any one to see
my last extremity, save those who cause it, for I know
my heart must break. Desire them to come in, and
say that you have persxuided me to yield to their wilL'*

I did so ; but I could see that they only regarded
me wiiIl looks of suspicion*

76 THE shsphbad's gauoidab.

I lingered in the nanrow lobby, and it was not two
minutes, till two peFBOo% ene cf whom I bad preTioni-
ly awertained by fab aoeenttd bo an Iiiah gentleman,
bvriM by me witfa tbe eUld. I flhonld bam fbUow*
ed^ bttf as, in their baite, they left open tbo door of the
apartnupt where Julia wae,. vy atlentioB wae rtveled
on the lady } ehe was paraljned with ailirtifln, and
clasped the air, as if tiying^ to CTibrace aometfain£^-*-4mt
finding bar diikl was no hmger in her boeom, she
sfMmng ^p to an amarioy haigfat, uttered a tcniUe
shriek, sod fell down strongly -eonvnlsed. Shortly
aiteK^ she uttered a tremnkius aiea% and died quite
away. I had no doubt that her heart was broken, and
that she had expired ; and indeed the Bishop, and the
othor gttHienian, whorraiained with her, seemed to be
of the same optnion, and were benumbed with as*'
tOniriinient* I caUednleud for aesistanoe, when two
W^meneamebustliiq^inwith -wator; hut the Bishop
ordMrecttme of lh«i^^ in' an ungry tooej to xedre. . He
gavendtt- domtnand in Gariie, and the poor creature
cowetnd'lilBS a spaniel: under ihe laidi, and made all
hs0lex>ulrt>f hn eight; This' circumstanoe caused me
to toU a look at the woman, and! peremred at once
that I knew faer,Mbfui the hurry and confusion of the
metttat preteiitbd me from ilnnking of the ineident,
less ormem^ utttfl long afiterwattis.
Lady Julia at length gave symptoms of letunni^

A STRANGE SBQBirr. 77

fmK*f*'«ij and thai I' nooUeeted the laei^eet of the
fibaige the had ompaittedte.ineb , Ihvriad oat; but
•iLtnoe-of the childLiCB&iQatii The-itwo gendaipeii
«ha took him from his modier,iveee waUoDgjoid eon*
^maBi% (Miberateljr ia^tfae gavi&B^.aaiif inothiaf^rhad
happeMody and all my mquirieB of them and pf othtn

were imaTiaUng. -.:»..

Alkor the \gm of Lady Jidia'a cUldi I aearchedthe
wfaole.coimtry>bntiiojdhfldixmklIaithacMe or hear
of ; aiid at length myjonly hope jrealedon.beiiiig ahle to
ranember.vho the old wxiBiaa.mBa .whom the Bkdiop
ordered ao.ahnipitlyoul'ofihiBpreaenoe that day<die
child wie disposed of. I was anre^:£xuii the manner
in which she skidked away^ias- if* afraid of hdng jdis-
coYored* that she had taken him awayy either dead pr
aliver . pf all the sensatioQa I erer expepencedl was
now enl^ieeted to thi9 most teasingri was iwnsiWft that
{ koaw^e woman:perfectly.weU»-HiaweUf that htifarnt
} beliey<e4 1 could call ber to^ my secollectioa wheooFer
i cJKM; hu^ thpiigh I p«tJiiy.menM]«y to the rack a
(hon^^^ J«d a thousfiqd iUmeg^ the.aamei residence,
fiOd ^iweiuons of the woman wejit fiuther aadivdur
|r<Hn my grasp, till a$ last ihoyiii^anidied like donds that
m^ 1^ with fonDs of the. loog-*dc^arted^ , ..
^; .A^^psm I am g<Hng H>. tfillA.yery manrei|oiBj|tory :
0"^^ day, when I was bunting iftiGNrsiTbeg: o£:G)eKo
Anam, I shot so well that I wondered at myself Be-

78 THE aHXPHXBD'S CALEHDAR.

fore my vnerring ainiy whole coveys of moor game fttt*
tared to the earth ; and as for the ptarmigans, they IbU
like showers of hailstones. At length I began to obserre
that the wounded birds eyed me with strange, unearth-
ly looks, and recollecting the traditions of the glen^ and
its name, I suspected there was some oidiantmeBt ia
the case. What, thought I, if I am shooting goodiiurieB^
or little harmless hill spirits, or mayhap whole flocks of
F^ttsts trying feats of witchcraft I — and to Aink that I
am carrying all these on my back I While standing ui
this perplexity, I heard a ymce behind me, which saic^
« O Sandy MacTayi^ Sandy MacTaTish, how will
yon answer for this day's woik ? What will become of
me I what will become of me 1"

I turned round in great consternation, my hairs all
standing on end — ^but nothing could I see, save a
Wounded ptarmigan, hopping among the grey stcnes. It
looked at its feathery legs and its snow-ndute hreast all
covered with blood, — and at length the creature said, in
Graelic, as before^ for it could not be expected that It
ptarmigan should have spoken Englisb, << How would
you like to find all your family and friends shot and
mangled in this way when you gang hame ? Ay, if
you do not catch me, you will rue ^is morning's woik
as long as you live, — and long, long afterwards. But if
you catch me, your fortune is made, and you will gain
both great riches and respect*"

A STRANQB SBORBT. 79

^ Then hare with you, crealnure I" exdaiioed ly.^* for
it strikes me that I. cau neyer make a /ortune so
easily ;" and I can at it» with my bonnet in both handfib
to catch it* . . ,)

<< Hee«hee-hee I" laughed the creature ; and away it
bounded among ih» grey stones, jumping like a jackdaw
with a dipped wing. I ran and ran^ and every time that
r tried to cli^ my bonnet above it, down I came with a
rattle among the stone»**-<< Hee-hee-hee !" shouted the
bird at every tumble. So provoking was thjs, and so
eager did I become in tJie pursuit^ that I flung away JDfvy
gun and my load of game, and ran afiter the-bird 'like a
madman, floundering over rugged stones^ laying on
with my bonnet, and sometimes throwing myself aboYie
the little creature, which always eluded ipe*- ,- -v

I knew all this while that the creature jwas a witi^
or a fairy, or something worse^-<-but natbelesa J.«Qu)d
not resist chasing it, being resolved to clutch it| C(^st ^hfit
it woidd ; and on I i*aB, by cliff and oopriQ, till I paw/e .to
a cottage which I remembered having seeapaoe b^^Sg^fd.
The creature, having involved me in the ImUfi oC ^Ic^gipB^
had got considerably ahead of m«, and -took jshelte^/iiL
the cottage. I was all covered with b}ood aa w^dlas
the bird, and in that state I ran into the botI\y alter my
prey* "'.••'.■■'}■ 'i'*" • f

On entering, I heard a great bustjiey as,i£ aU^jihe^ jn^
mates were employed in effecting. ;tha,0QBCfa!inaf^nt-. of

80 TH£ S1UCPHERD*8 CALENDAR.

•omething. I took it for a concern of smuggling, and
went boldly forward, with a '< Hilloa I who hides here T

At the question there appeared one I had good rea-
son to recollect, at sight of whom my heart thrilled
This was no other than the old woman I had seen at
the Bishop 8 honse. I knew her perfectly well, for I
had been in the same bothy once before, when out hunt-
U9g9 to get some refreshment. I now wondered much
that I should never have been able to recollect who the
beldam was, till that moment, when I saw her again in
her own house. Her looks betrayed the utmost confusion
and dismay, as she addressed me in these words, << Hee-
hee, good Mr MacTavish, what will you be seeking so
far from home to-day ?"

^< I am only seeking a wounded ptarmigan, mistress,"
said I ; /^ and if it be not a witch and yourself that I
have wounded, I must have it, — for a great deal depends
up<m my getting hold of the creature."

^ Ha, ha ! you are coming pursuing after your for-
tune the day, Mr MacTayish," said she, <^ and mayhap
you may seize her ; but we have a small piece of an ope*
lation to go through before that can take place."

<^ And pray, jA^bX is that, Mrs Elspeth ?" said I ; << for
if it be any of your witchcraft doings, I will have no
hand in it. Give me my bird ; that is all I ask of you."

*< And so you really and positively believe it was a
bird you chased in here to-day, Mr MacTavisb ?"

A STBAlTOS 8J5(»UET. 81

< * << Wliy> whst amid I think, mistress ? It l»d the
appearance of » hird*'* :

<^ .Maigati Coadbiid ! come hi^ber^*' said the old
yitch:; ^.what is ordaiiied most be done;— lay hold of
liiiiiy' Mtfgali.'' : . . * f ! .'. . '

-; The ^o women then ^d.h<^d of ine^ and beiiif^«ii«
der aoiyie.qMll9 1 fa|Ml no power to renst ; eo they boiuid
ptj haids and feet, add laid mb on a tal^le^ ianghing iat»
noderitely at my terrore. They $hieiL begged I woinki
eocense them, for they wer& imder the neoesnty of got
ing on with the op«:aidbii» though it might not be qvite
agveeahle to me in the finsb inatancOi '. .

^ And pray, Mrs Elspeth, wluit is thos same opera-
tion?** said I. ; . >.

. << Why/' saidshe, "yon hare come here chasingiafker
a great fortohey ikfid there is bo othari wa^of attaimag it
itaTe by one^— and that is, touB hba&t's blood must

bb'lbt oiJiJ'

** Tbt IS a Very uncommon way 6i attaining a for-L
Inne,^ Mrs El^th,'' said I, as goodNhnmooreitiy as I
could, although, my heart was quaking within' Bia. r

<^ It is nerertheless a rary excellent plan/' said the
witch, ^ and it is very rarely thai afortune can besHUle
without it." So saying, the beldam plunged m slanii^
ochO into my Inreast, with a loud and a €endish laugh.
<< Therd goes tbs heart's blood of blade Sandy Jdbe«
Tavish !" cried she; and that instant I heard the «6^4

d2

SS THE 8BXP8ni>'t CAimDAR.

of it raBhing to the floor. It wm not like As mmnd of

a cataract of blood, howerer, but radier like the tinklii^

of a stream of gold guineas. I forced up my bead, and

behold, there waa a stream of pore and ahimnf^ goid

pieces issuing from my bosom; Trhile a nmmber of

dmnoBB, some in bladk gowns, and others in wisAe pet-

ticoats, were rumdag off with them, and ffingaig diem

about in every direction I I could stand tins no longer ;

to faaTe parted widi sltttle blood I foimd woidd Jiare

besn nothing, but to seemy vitsls dnoned of afMredons

treasure, which I knew not had heenthere^ was more

than human nature could bear'; so I roared out, in a

▼oioe that made all the house and ail .the>hil]B to yell,

<< Murder ! thieves I thieyes I robbers !— -Murder I Ho I

ho I ho I'' Thus did I coajdnuekrudly to shoo^ till one

of thewitclies,or lafomalsyBB I thought, dashed a pail

of water;on<my fiuM^n porticm of ^hich going iBi»tty

mouth and windpipe, chdced my utterance; birtnathe?

less the>reinoradesS('wieldi centmned to dash water

upon meeritkatttmspsringJwad, till at last- Ae qpell

was.lwekeisand the whoktUunon vanidhcd. /'I . ' t

In eider tbr^establish the credibiltty of liie ahoTO re-
latiMi,! mnsttrilranodier> story, which shall be a very
short .•one.'" ••>-■-

<f 'Out mhaster slheeps fery Ihaog diis tay. Mis Roy
MioCalluni," said my man, Donald, to.my old hoose^
fcespar*' . ' • .■ ' ;: -v

^ I

iftDflnMycamMoaT. • m . M

«< Hidi rliy^>rMnir^R«y <JiiBo€alVinR -aBtMi.lBerttll
looknb^Mtrpoi'tojhoine^tef seedftwliislBPiimfl rndBiig
andlKfyte eootindieakh-; Tand^ ^Mitdd >3nm«^f»eli0iBeH,
Mm MmCMIubi?' iicv irlpiilgv gtaiMiy ^andtrtxiggtiig
MjfkeF'.weteiqitiieii&liBd^" ' / ■..'••. i: 7 >'•'') nr modi'

■ ff QttlrftKi^ TonaldiMaiAitcshtl"- mmco >)/£(< ot

tQt 6e jNure ; 'Imt^facvpie mhad fot •all tat p^mtAttei^ifmimae
cnttbtrialy^tMis Roy^MmeQBl&nmi-mAnm mhiithilMlie
iV«»il-<ft*«tisi'|iyi water.'*.'"!- v ^..t :♦>. ^^d/^nf t«uit ftofO'*

i>i<It?ptt>|^ Croat «iid Uiast trad; leroaitpljrMvMn^"
rejoineA'di&.sageifaoasekeepen ■ f»)t ^tr 1 1 toH loH
Wiih that, M» Roy MaoddkMi md'iDMridf&Ifae-
Jalidt oMMt into- my sleeping-dromHtwiliiqnilii^*^ %ra-
tevf' :aaiA.« bagwa itc ffiag it «iion met^iD^wileiii iteftos
shovwft that I.ms w9aUiiif^«hekdd^«Bdritef^re9«bt
nyMl^iraii faetng dio^med^ lapsHigriiii^l^iraitstiiiMlKy
oontmiiedtetdadi.w8tar«p<m<niac At kngtiildaieimny
own Mail Dani^'a ^nnee as « ]i^lietfd:<'Uai (cUttngi oat,
M Claah 0ivMi8'Mai^aUum<i dtt^pb fot^lifii insftrntA.**
^ Huh aye, ply on to water, Tonald \" cnaM^BwAer,

: M Hold, hold, myigoodf fimd^'S-cnaiiid^ija^pping:
romd.tbe room att^drippiiig' wafeHi%Hold^U[d^'«m.'
awake now, and better*" -^^--^-.t

M THE HHirtnmPi OALmXPASL

<<HttkI plearitpeCat,«idphtritp#tecret Mae-
Tamhr cried they both at once.

'< Bat where is the witch of the glen?" enad L
^< And where is the wounded ptarmigan?— «nd whoe
ia all the gold that came out with my heart'a Uood?"

« Claah cm te water, Mn MacCallmnr ezehumiMi
Doaald; and the indafjatigahle paila of Donald and the
honaekeeper were again put in requisition to aome par-
pose. Having skipped about for some time, I at last
esc^>ed into a closet, and locked the door. I had thm
leisnre to remonstrate with them throngh the key-hole I'
but still there were many things about which we eouki
not come to a right understanding, and I began to dread
a Iramendous shower4iath fWun aboTe, as I heard them
carrying water up stairs ; and that dread iHonght me
fint to my proper and right senses.

It wall now be perceived that the whde of my ad*
venteie in the glen, with the ptarmigan and the witches,
was nothing more than a dream. But yet in my oim-^
mm it was more than a dream, for it was the same as
realily to ana. I had all the feelings and sensations of
aiatioBai being, and every ctrcmnstance was impgreB»^
ed Ml my mind the same as if I had transacted it awake.
Besides, dwre was a most singular and important reve-
latiimtmpartedtomebylhe vision: I had discovered
who tho old woman was whose identity had before p^*
plezedme so much, and who I was sure ei^er had Lady'

/ il«T]UNM«acitBT« §5

JqUr'H boy, ^nT knew where he' was. About fi^e yenn
preyichts to this I had come into the same woman'f
liovaei^ treaty and hungry, and laden with game, and
was rery kindly treated. Of ooime, hear hce was qmte
fitmiliar'to me; bnt tail I had ^lis singnlar dream, all
the efforts of my memory conld not recall the woman's
Hame'ind habitation, nor in what coontry or drcom-
9CaB<^ I had before wea her. From that morning forA
I thought of nothing else sare toother risit tothe forest-
er*s cottage in the glen ; and, thbngh my heart forebo-
ded sdme eyil, I rested not till I had accomplished it.

It was not long till I made a journey to Abo^uchra,
in soarch of the old witch whom I had seen in my
dream. I found her ; and apparently she had recently
sirfbred mudi from distress of mind; her eyes were
red with weeping, her hairs were hanging in elf-switdi-
es, and her dress in much disorder. She knew me, and
said, << God bless you, Mr MacTavish, where are you
trarelling this way ?''

^ in truth, Mrs Cowan,'' I replied, <* I am just eome
to siee after Lady Julia's little boy, poor Lewis Wil-
liam, you know, who was put under your care by the
Bishop, on the first of November last year." ^

She held up h^ hands and stared, and then Ml a-
dyiag most bitterly, striking her breast, and wringing
her hands, like one distracted, but still without answer- *
iagmednaword* . - ; ^^.v . .

M THE gHBPHSRD'S GAXJOnOAB.

«Odion, odion!" said I; «theiiit is all as I tii»-
pected, and the deer child is indeed murdered 1*^

On iiuB she sprung to her feet, and uttered an i^
palling scream, and then yelled out, ^ Murdered I mw-
dered ! Is ike dear boy BRirdered ? Is he-«^ he mnu
deied?" I

This Tehemenoe of feeling on her part at the idea of
the boy's being cat off, convinced me that she had net
murdered the child herself; and being greatly reliered
in my heart, I sat still as in astomshment, -until she
again pat the questi<Mi if her dear foster-child was
mordered.

^ Why, Mrs Cowan, not to my knowledge," I re-
plied. ^Ididnotseehimmardered; batifhehaBnot
been foolly dealt with, what has beccwie of hiitf ?— (te
well I know he ?rae pat onder yoor diarge ; and he-
fore the world, and before the jndges of 1^ knd^ I
shall make you render an acconnt of him/* ■

^ Was the boy yours, Mr MacTavish,'' said die,
*^ that you are so deeply interested in him*? For tiie
love of Heayen, t^ me who was his father, and then
I shall confess to you every thing that I know con-
ceming him,-'

I then told the <^ woman the whole story as I h&re
here rdated it, and requested her to inform me wiwt
had become of the boy.

*' He was delivered to me after the most eolemttioh

A STRAMeS SBCIlSr. 87

junedoiifl of concealment," raid she ; ^ uid these wero
aooompmied with tfareatenin|K8, m case of dieobediettoe^
of na ordinary natare. He was to be hronght iqi m this
inaeoeasihle wild widi ns as oar grandson; and fardier
than that, no being was to know. Our reward was to
be very high — too high, I am afraid, which may hare
earned his abetractiim. B«t O he was a dear delight-
ful boy ! and I loyed him bettisr than my own grand*
son. He was so playfiil, so bold, and, at the seme
time, so forgiving and generonsl

^ WeU, he lived on with ns, and grew, and no one ac-
knowledged or noticed him nntil a little while ago; that
(me Bfll ^col came into the forest as foz-^hnnter, and
came here to board, to be near the foxes, having, as he
pretendeo^- the fitctoi's orders for doing so ; and every
day he would sport with the two boys, who were both
aUke fond of him,--^«nd every day wonld he be giving
them rides on his pony, which put them half craay
about the man. And then one day, when he was
giving them a ride time about, the knave mounted be-
hind poor little Lewie, and rode o£f with him abogeditf
into the forest, and there was an end of him« Ranald
ran crying after them till he could run no fiarther, and
then, losing sight of them, he sat down and wept. I
was busy at work, and thought always that my two
little fellows were playing not hr off, until I began to
wonder where they ooukL be> andiai»4Mit to tha to^ <s^

8B THE gHKIflKBP's CAUENDAR.

dM MtUe hukf knowe-lMid fhtate, and 6tll9if wnd
lodfer caUed them ; b«t nothiiig «i«irered me, tave tht
edMMs of my own YoioBfrom theroduaiid t»ee8;.00
I grew rerj grrally distracted^ end na «p GIim'C—
toty thoutiiig ae I went, and always imping betwMii
wkiles to the Holy "^^fgin and to the gooditeintsiof^-
•tofe me my boya* But they did not d» it-^-<Mt ao^
theynoTer did! I then began to tnBpact that lUi funa*
tended foz4ranter might hare been the Wicked One
come in disguise to take away my childrai ; and the
more so, as I knew not if Lewie had been blessed in ho-
ly ehmrdi. Bnt what oovld I do bnt nm ony callings
and crying, and raring all the way, witil I came to the
pass of Bally-keorach, and then I saw that no [kmy*s
foot had passed on that path, and tomed and ran home;
bnt it was growing dark, and there was nobody there,
so I took to the woods again. How I spent that night
I do not know, but I think I had fallen into a trance
through sorrow and fatigue.

** Next morning, when I came to my senses, the first
thing I saw was a man who came by me, chasing a '
Wounded bird, like a ndbite moorfowl, and he was al<p
ways trying to catch it with his bonnet, and many a
hard fidl h^ got among the stones. I called afiber him,
for I was glad to see a human bdng in that place, and I
made all tbe.speed I could to follow; but he regarded,
me not»biil ran after the wounded bird* HewJantdown

▲ STRANGE SiX;RST. 89

thQ linns, which retarded him a good deal, and I got
qvite near hipi* Then frmn that he went into a small
liollow straight before me, to which I ran, for I want*
ed to tell him my tale, and beg his assistance in rai-
fling the country in the strath below. When I came
into the little hollow, he had yanished, although a hare
oould not have left it without my seeing it. I was
greatly astonished, assured that I had seen a vision.
But how much more was I astonished to find, on the
Tery spot where he had disappeared, my grandscm,
Hanald, lying sound asleep, and quite motionless,
through himger and fatigue I At first I thought he. was
dead,' and lost all recollection of the wonderful way in
which I had been led to him ; but when I found he
was alire and breathing, I took him up in my arms,
and carried him home, and there found the same man,
or rather the same apparition, busily employed hunting
the wounded bird within this same cottage, and he de-
clared that have it he must. I was terrified almost out
of my wits, but tried to thank the mysterious being
for leading me to my perishing child. His answw
-^which I shall never forget--— was, < Yes, I have
fofimd one, and I will find the other too, if the Al^
mighty spare me in life,' And when the apparition
said so, it gave me such a lock m the face-<^Oh I ah I
WhatisthisI what is this T
Here the old woman b^an to shriek like oiie dis*.

90 THE 8H£PH£RD'8 CALEVDAR.

tracted, and i^peared in an agony of toror ; andi to
tell the truth, I was not much better myself whea I
heard the story of the wounded ptarmigan. B«t I tried
to support the old woman, and asked what ailed her.

^ Well you may ask what ails me I" said she. ^ Oh
Mr MacTavish, what did I see just now hnt the very
same look that the apparition gare that momiag ! The
same look, and from the very same features ; for in^*
deed it was the apparition of yourself, in erery linea-
ment, and in every article of dress : — your very self.
And it is the moet strange vision that ever happened
to me in all my Tisicmary life V*

^^ I will tell you what it is, Mrs Elspeth Cowan,'
said I, << you do not know one half of its strangeness
yet ; but tell me the day of the week and the >day of
the month when you beheld this same vision of my*
self."

<< Ay, that day I never shall forget," answered El^
speth ; '^ for of all the days of the year it was the one
after I lost my dear foster-son, tmd that was the serrmth
of Avenle. I have always thought my boy was stokil
to be murd^ed, or put out of the way most unfairly,
till this very day ; but now, when 1 see the same matt
in flesh and blood, whom I saw that day dbasing the
wounded bird, I am sure poor Lewie will be foimd ;
for with that very look which you gave me but a mi-
nute ago, and in that very place where you stand, your

A STRANOE S&CR£T. 01

^iptfition or yourself said to me, < Yes, I have fouad
ibe one, and I will find the other if the Almighty spare
me in USeJ "

<6 I do not reeollect of saying these words, Mrs
Cowan," said I.

<< Reoolleet?" said she ; << what is it yoa mean ? Sure
you were not here your own self that morning?'*

^^Why^ to tell you the solemn truth," replied I,
<^ I was in the glen that very morning chasing a wound-
ed ptarmigan, and I now have some faint recollection
oi seong a red-haired hoy lying asleep in a little green
hollow heside a grey stone,**-and I think I did say these
words to aome one too. But was not there something
more? Was not there something ahout letting out
somehody's heart's hlood ?"

^^ Yes ; but then that was only a dream I had," said
she, ^ while the other was no dream, but a sad reality.
But how, in the name of the blessed saints, do you
ha]^>en to know of that dream ?"

^ It is not easy, now-a^days," answered I, << to B%y
what IB a dream and what is a reality. For my part,
from this moment I renounce all certainty of the dis-;
tiniction. It is a fact, that on that very morning, and:
at that hour, I was in this glen and in this cottage,-—
and yet I was neither in this glen nor in this cottage.
So, if you can unriddle that, you are welcome."

<' I knew you were not here in flesh and blood* I

92 THE 8ilKPIISai>*8 GALDTDAR.

knew it was your wraithy or anamp m we cell it ; foTy
firaty you yanished in the hollow before my ^yea ; than
you appeared here again, and when you went awmy in
haate, I followed you to beg your atsiatancei; a»d all
that I coidd hear was your spirit howling under a wa-
tttfall of the linn."

This confounded me more than ey^^ and it W9b some
time before I recovered my aelf-possewon so ftr. as to
inquire if what she had related to me was all she knew
about the boy. . .

« Nothing more,'* she saidy <^ save that you ane^def-
tined to discover him again^ either dead oralive— -for
I can assure you, from the words that I heard out .of
your own spirit's mouthy that if you da not find bim»
and restore him to his birthright^ he never will be ^»-
Covered by mortal man* • I went, poor, sachlesa, and
helpless being aa I was, to the JBisbop) and told him my
woful story ; for I durst do nothing till I asked counsel
of him. He was, or rather pretended to be» very an-
gry, and said I deserved to be burnt for my n^ligenee,
for there was no doubt the boy had fallen over some
precipice. It was in vain that I told him how my own
{grandson had seen him carried off on the pony by the
pretended fox-hunter; he peroisted in his own belief
and woidd not suffer me to mention the circumstancos
to a single individual. So, knowing that the counsel

A STRANGE SECRET. 93

of the Lord was with his serrant, I could do nothing
but weep, in secret, and hold my peace/'

Thus ended my interriew with Elspeth of the glen.

After my visit to the old sibyl, my mind ran much
on the extraordinary vision I had had, and on the old
witch's haTiBg actually seen a being in my shape at the
very instant of time that I myself weened and felt that
I was there.

I have forgot whether I went to Lady Julia that
very night or some time after, but I did carry her the
tidings, which threw her into an agony of the deepest
distress. She continued for a long space to repeat
that her child was murdered, — her dear, her innocent
dnld. But before I left her, she said her situation
was a«very peculiar one, and therefore she entreated
me to be secret, and to tell no one of the circumstance^ '
yet by all means to lose no time in endeavouring to
trace the foai^^hunter, and to find out, if possible, wlie«
tber the boy was dead or alive. She concluded by
saying, *^ Exert yourself like a man and a true friend,
as you have always been to me. Spare no expense in
attaining your object^ and my whole fortune is at your
diqiosaL" I was so completely involved in the busi-'
neas, thai I saw no alternative but that of proceeding,
-<-4md not to proceed with vigour was contrary to my
nature»

Lady Julia had all this time been kept in profound

94 THE SI1£PU£IID*8 CALENDAR.

ignorance where the child had been concealed, and the
very next day after our interview^ she paid a yiait to
old Elspeth Cowan at the remote cottage of Aher-
duchra, and there I again met with her as I set out on
the pursuit. Loag and serious was our consults^n,
and I wrote down all the marks of the man and the
horse from Elspeth's mouth; and the child Ranald
also gave me some very nice marks of the pony.

The only new thing that had come out, was ^t
the boy Ranald had persisted in saying, lliat the fgx«
hunter took his brother Lewie dawn the glen, in place
of up, which every other circumstance seemed to in-
dicate. Elspeth had seen them go all three up the
glen, the two boys riding on the pony, and the fox-
hunter leading it, and Ranald himself was foimd hr
up the glen ; but yet when we took him to the spot,
and pointed up the glen, he said, No, they did not go
that way, but the other. Elspeth said it was not pos-
sible, but I thought otherwise ; for when I asked at
Ranald where he thought Nicol the fox-hunter was
going with his brother, he said he thought he was ta**
king him home, and that he would come back for him.
Elspeth wanted me to take the route through the hills
towards the south ; but as soon as I heard the boy's
tale, I suspected the Bishop had had some share in the
abstraction of the missing child, and set out on my
search in the direction of his mansion. I asked at every

A STRANGE S£CRET. 95

house and at every person, for such a man and such a
pony as I described, making no mention of a boy ; but
no such man had been seen. At length I chanced to
be asking at a shieling, within a mile of the Bishop s
house, if» on such a day, they had seen such a man ride
by on a black pony* They had not seen him ; but there
was a poor vagrant boy chanced to be present, and
heard my inquiry, and he said he saw a man like that
ride by on a blaok pony one day, but it could not be
the man I wanted, for he had a bonny boy on the
horse before him.

<< Indeed ?" said L << O, then, it could not be the
man I want. Had the pony any mark by which you
could remember it ?''

" Cheas gear" said the boy. This was the very
mark that little Ranald had given me of the pony.
Oho I I have my man now ! thought I ; so I said no
more, but shook my head and went away. Every
thing was kept so close about the Bishop's house, I
could get no intelligence there, nor even entrance— and
in truth, I durst hardly be seen about the premises.

In this dilemma, I recollected the words of the sibyl
of the glen, as I had heard them in my strange vision,
namely, that my only sure way of making a fortune
was by letting out my heart's blood; and also, that
when my heart's blood was let out, it proved to be a
flood of guineas. Now, thought I to myself, what

96 THE shepherd's calendar.

does making a fortune mean but carrying out sncoess-
fully any enterprise one may hare in hand ? and thongli
to part with money is a very hard mattery espedally
in an afiair in which I have po concern, yet I will try
the efficacy of it here, and so learn whether the expe-
riment is worth making in other cases where I am
ihore closely interested^— The truth is, I fomad that I
was deeply interested in the nSbir^ althongh, not being
able to satisfy my own mind with reasons why I dionld
be so, I affected to consider myself mightily indiffer-
ent about it In pursuance, therefore, of ihe plan sug-
gested in my dream, and on a proper opportunity, by
means of a present administered to one of the Bishop's
servants, I learnt, that about the time when the boy
had been carried off by the fox-hunter, a priest of the
name of O'Callaghan had made his appearance at the
Bishop's house; that he was dressed in a dark grey
jacket and trowsers, and rode a black pony with crop-
ped ears ; that he was beliered to have some secret bu-
siness with the Bishop, and had frequent consuhations
with him ; and my informant, becoming more and more
free in his communications,. as the facts, one after an-
other, were drawn from him, confessed to me that
he had one night overheard quarrelling between O'Cal-
laghan and his master, and having stolen to the door
of the apartment, listened for some time, but was un-^
able to make out more of the angry whisperii^ within

' A> STRANGE SSCRBT. 97

thstt ar llireat from O^Callaghan, that if the Bishop
vonkl not give him more> << he (O'CaUaghan) would
throw him oyerboard iQto tibe first salt dub he came
to* ' Oil mterrogatiDg my infonnant if he knew whom^
CyCaliaghan meant, when he said he would << throw
faim overboard," he replied that he oould not guess. I-
had, howeva*, no doubt, that it was the boy I was in
aeerek of,. and I had as little doubt that the fellow-
knew to whom the threat referred ; but I have offceii>
known people have no scruple in telling all about a
86cret» so as to give any one a key to 1^ complete
knowledge of it, who would yet, upon no emisideraf^
tiaUf give utterance to the secret itself ; and judging
this, to be ihe case in the present instance, I con*
tented myself with learning farther, that when the
]»iest left the Bishop's, he went directly to Ireland, of
which country he was a native, and would, in all pro-^
liability, ere long revint Scotland.

Possessed of this dew^ I was nevertheleas much a^^
a loss to determine what wa^ the most adnsable way.
of following it out. My inclination led me to wait
the fellow's return, and to have him swed and ex-
amined. But then I bethought me^ if I could be in-
^nunental in saving the boy's life, or of discoveriagt
where he was placed, ov how circumstanced, it. woukl
avaU me more, and give Lady Julia mere satu^actio»
tiian any pumsfament that might he ii^cted mi- the^

VOL. II. £

98 THE 8H£PH£II1>*8 CALENDAR.

perpetrators of this deed afterwards. So after a trem-
bled night and day, which I spent in preparation, I
anned myself with a pair of pistols and a pair of High*
land dirks, a long and a short one, and set out in my
ardttons imdertakii^, either to recover the boy or pe-
rish in the attempt. And it is needless for me to deny
to you, sir, that the vision, and the weird wife €^ the
glen's prophecy, had no small part in urging me to
this adventure.

I got no trace of the priest till I went to Abertarf,
where I found out that he had lodged in the hoQse of
a Catholic, and that he had shown a good deal of
Ipndness and attention to the boy, while the boy seam-
ed also attached to him, but still more to the pony* I
went to the bouse of this man, whose name was Au«
gns &oy MacDonald ; but he was dose as death, si&^i-
cious, and sullen, and woidd tell me nothing of 0*Cal-
lagban's motions. I succeeded, however, in traciiig
Urn till he went on board of a Liverpool sloop at
Arisaig. I was much at a loss how to proceed, when,
in the evening, perceiving a vessel in the offing, bear-
ing against the tide, and hoping that the persons I
sought might be aboard of her, I hired a boat to take
me out ; but we lost sight of her in the dusk of the
evaiing, and I was obliged to bribe the boatmen to
take me all the way to Tobermory, having been aasn-
V^d that the Liverpool vessel would be obliged to put

A STRANGE SECRET. 99

in there, in order to clear at the custonl-hoiise. We
did not reach Tobermory till the next day at noon ; .
and as we entered the narrow passage that leads into
the harbour, a sloop came full sail by us right before
the wind, and I saw a pretty boy standing on the poop.
I called out << Lewis" to him, but he only looked oyer
his shoulder as for some one else, and did not answer
me. The ship going on, as she turned her stem right
towards us, I saw << The Blake of Bostcm" in golden
letters, and thought no more of the encoimter till I
went on shore, and there I learned on the quay that
ehe was the identical Liverpool vessel of which I was
in pursuit, and the boy I had seen, the very one I was
in search of. I learnt that he was crying much when
ashore, and refused to go on shipboard again till taken
by force ; aod that he told the people boldly, that that
man, Nicol the fox-hunter, had taken him from his
mother and father, and his brother Ranald, having en-
ticed him out to give him a ride, and never taken him
home again. But the fellow telling them a plausible
atory, they durst not meddle in the matter. It was
known, however, that the vessel had to go roimd by
the Shannon, as she had some valuable loading on
board for Limerick.

This was heavy news, as how to get a passage thither
I wist not. But the thoughts of the poor boy crying
for liis home hung about my heart, and so, going to

UH) THE &li£Pli£RD*S CALENDAR.

Gnwnock I took a passage for Belfast, and txayelled on
foot or oo horseback as I could, all the way to Limeric]^
When I got there, matters looked still worse* The
Blake had not come up to Limerick, but discharge
her bales at the mouth of the river, and again sailed;
and here was I in a strange country witl^ no one pier-
haps to believe my tale. The Irish, however, showed
no signs of apathy or indi&rence to my case, as my
own countrymen did. They manifested the utmost
t^Tupathy for me, and the utmost indignation against
O'Callaghan ; and the man being known in the coimtry,
he was soon found out by the natives. Yet, strange to
say ! though found out by twenty men all eagerly bent
on the discovery, as soon as he gave them a hint rer
apecting the person by whom he was employed^ off they
went, and never so much as came back to tell either the
Mayor or myself that their search had beefi succesafii)
or not.

But two or three officers, who were Protestants, be-
ing dispatched in search of him, they soon brought hjm
U> Limerick, where he and I were both examined, and
he was committed to jail till the next court day. He
denied all knowledge of the boy, and all concern w\^
ever in the crime he was charged with ; and the shi^
being gone I coidd procure no evidence against him.
There was nothing but the allc^tions of parties upon
which no judgment could bfs giveix ; I l^tQ piljthe

A STRANGE SECRET. 101

e^pehses of process, and he gave secnrities for his ap-
pedniiice at the bonrt of Inyemess, if he should be cited^
I spent nihe days more in searching for the boy on the
Glare side of the river ; but all my efforts were fruitless.
I foimd that my accusation of their vagrant priest ren-
dered me very unpopular among the natives, and wa^
obliged to relinquish the investigation.

O'Callagfaan was in Scotland before me, and on my
arrival I cammed him to be instantly seized, secure now
of enough of witnesses to prOve the fact of his having
taken off the boy. Old Elspeth of the glen and her
husband were summoned, as \^ere Lady JuHa and An-
gus Roy MacDonald. When the day of trial came,
O'Callagfaan's indictment was read in court, charging
him with having abstracted a boy from the shelling 6f
Aberduchra. The Bishop being present, and a great
number of his adherents, the panel boldly denied every
drcumstance ; and what was my astonishment to find,*
(hi tfie witnesses' names being called, that not one of
theiii' was there I The officers were called and examined,
who declared that they could nOt find one of the wit^
nesses in the whole country. The forester and his wife,
they said, had left Aberduchra, akid gone nobody knew
whither ; Lady Julia had gone to France, and Angus
MaicDoiaald to the Lowlands, it was supposed, with
cows. The court remarked it was a singular aciid ra-
ther suspicious circumstance, that the witnesses shoiild'

102 THE shepherd's CALENDAR.

all be afatoiu O'Callagfaan amid sometlimg in his own
ddence, and hsTing made a reference to the Bishop for
hit character, his reTerence made a long speech in his
praise. The consequence was, that as not one witness
produced in support of the accusation, O'Calla^^ian
once more liberated.

I would never have learned what became of the hoy,
had not a young soldier, a cousin's son of mine, come
to Innism<H« the other year. He was a fine lad, and
I soon became a good deal attached to him ; and he be*
ing one of a company stationed in the neighbourhood
to guard the passes for the jH^vention of smuggling,
he lived a good deal at my house, while his officer re-
mained nightly at the old mansionJiouse, the guest of
Lady Julia and the young Lord.

It is perhaps proper here to mention that Lady Julia
was now the only remaining member of the late EarFs
fiMnily, and the heir of entail, being the son of a distant
relation, had been sent from Ireland to be brought up
by Lady Julia. He was a perverse and wicked boy,
and grieved her heart every day.

The young man, my relation, was one day called out
to follow his captain on a private expedition against
some smugglers. The next day one of his comrades
came and told me that they bad bad a set battle with a
great band of smugglers, in which several were killed
and wounded. << AmoDg the rest;" said he, << our gallant

A STRANGE SECRET. lOS

commander^ Captain MacKenzie, is killed, and yonr
nephew is lying mortally wounded at the stiU-house.**
I lost no time in getting ready, and mounting one
horse> and causing the soldier to take another, I hade
him lead the way, and I followed. It may well he sup-
posed that I was much astonished on finding that the
lad was leading me straight to the cottage of Aherdu^^
cfara I Ever since the old forester and his wife had heen
removed, the cottage had stood uninhabited; and it

' ' . ' ■

seems that, from its inaccessible situation, it had been
pitched upon as a still-house, and occupied as such, for
several years, by a strong band of smugglers from the
Deveron. They were all bold, resolute fellows, itnd

when surprised by MacKenzie and his party, and com-

. '■->..•■»■

manded to yield, they soon showed that there was no*-

>- " ' ' •.••>
thing farther from their intention. In one moment

every one had a weapon in his hand ; they rushed upon
the military with such fury that in a few minutes they
beat them back, after having run their captain and an-
. other man through the body, and wounded several be-
sides. Captain MacKenzie had slain one of the smug-
glers at the first onset ; but the next instant he fell, and
his party retired. The smugglers then staved their
casks, and fled, leaving the military in possession of the
field of battle, and of the shelling, in which nothing was
found save a great rubbish of smashed utensils and the
killed and wounded of both sides.

IM THE SHXPHXRD'r CAX;BMDAIt.

Im liiis state I found the eottige of AbeniilrnL
Tbere wiere one sonnggler and a aoldier qnke deMl, and
annmber badly wounded ; and among the latter was the
yo«ig man, my relatiTe, who was sore wounded ift ^
leftdionlder. My whole attention was inftantlytUMd
towards him. He was yery fidnt, hat the bleeding wai
•lanched, and I had hopes of his recoyery. I gara him
some himady and water, \Hiich reTired him a great deal ^
and as soon as he oould speak, he said, in a low voioi^
^ For 6od*8 sake, attend to onr gallant captain's womd
Mine is nothing, but, if he is still Irving, hisi I fear, ii
dangeroos ; and a nobler youth never breathed/*

I found him lying on a bed of rushes, one soldier
sapporting his head, and another sitting beside hia
with a dish of cold water. I asked the captain how
he did ; but he only shook Ins head, and pointed to tha
wound in his side. I mixed a* good strong cup of
brandy and water, and gare it him. He swallowed it
greedily, and I had then no doubt that the young man
was near his last. << I am a great deal the better of that,*'
said he. I requested him not to speak, and then ariced
the soldiers if ^ wound had bled freely, but they said
no, it had scarcely bled any. I was quite ignonmt of
surgery, but it struck me that, if possible,, the wmaai
should be made to bleed, to prevent it from blee£ag
inwardly. Acccnrdingly, the men having kinged i
good fire in the cottage, I got some warm walei^ tad

A STRANGE SECREf. 105

begiEtn to foment tlte wound. As the stripes of crost^
ed blood began to disappear, judge of my astonisb-*
ment, wh^ I perceived the mark of a mby ring below
his left breast ! There was no mistaking the token.
I kniew that moment that I was administering to Lady
Julia's son, for whom I had travelled so far in vain,
ajdd over whom my soul had yearned as oyer a lost
child of my own. The basin fell from my hands, my hair •
stood on end, and my whole frame grew rigid, so that*
the soldiers stared at me, thinking I was bewitched, or
seized with some strange malady. The captain, how-
ever, made signs for them to proceed with the foment*
atiOn, which they did^ tmtil the wound bled considera-
bly ; and I began to have some hopes that there might
be a possibility of saving his life. I then sent oif af
soldier on one of my horses for the nearest surgeon,*
and I myself rode straight to the Castle to Lady Julia,
and informed her of the captain's wound, and the
miserable statei in which he was lying at' the sheiling
of Aberduchra. She held up her h^ds, and had nearl j^
fhlnted, and niade a lamentation so grievous, that I
wfes convinced she already Idiew who the young matf
wtA, She instantly ordered the dEuriage to be got
r^dy^ and a bed put into it j in order to have the cap-
tain conveyed straight to the Castle. I ex][)ected sh^'
would have gone in the carriage herself, but' when she
only gave charges to the servants and me, I'then kh6w

£ 2

106 TH£ shepherd's CALENDAR.

tint the quality and propinquity of het guest were not
known to her.

My reflections on the scenes thai had happened at
that cottage, made a deep impression on me that night,
as wril they might, considering how singtdar they were.
At that cottage I had once heen in spirit, thou^ eer*
tainly not in the body, yet there my bodily form was
seen speaking and acting as I would have done, and as
at the same moment I believed I was doing. By that
▼ision I discoYered where the lost boy was to be found,
and there I found him ; and when he was lost again,
on that very same spot was I told that I should find
him, else he neyer would be discoyered by man. And
now, after a lapse of fifteen years, and a thousand
wanderings on his part overgone, on that Y&ry same
qK>t did I again discover him.

Captain MacKemne was removed to the Castle, and
his recovery watched by Lady Julia and myself with
the utmost solicitude— -a solicitude on her part which
aeemed to arise from some mysterious impulse of the
tie that connected her with the sufferer ; for had she
known that she was his mother, her care and anxiety
about him could scarcely have been greater. When
his woimd was so far recovered, that no danger was to
be apprehended from the agitating discovery, the se*
cret of his birth was communicated to himself and Lady
Julia* It is needless for me to trace &rther the de-

A 6TRAKQB 8B0RBT. 107

tails of their eventfiil history. That history, the evir
dence adduced before the courts of law #or the rights
of heritage, and before the Peers for the titles, hare
now been divulged and laid quite open, so that the
deeds done in darkness have been brought to lights and
that which was meant to have hem concealed firom the
knowledge of all mankind, has been published to the
whole world, even in its most minute and intricate
windings. It is therefore needless for me to recapitu-
late all the events that preceded the time when this
narrative begins. Let it suffice, that Lady Julia's son
has been fully proved legitimate, and we have now a
Protestant Earl, in spite of all that the IKshop did to
prevent it. And it having been, in a great measure^
owing to my evidence that the identity of the heir was
eitabHshed, I have now the prospect of being, if not
the richest, at least, the most independent man of either
Buchan or Mar.

M^ Tumwamamm^cAumDAML

CHAFTERin.

niB MARVELLOUS DOCTOR.

iH^ wan MMi^ <MM» iiiiniiniff matt Imd wiA then ntmiy

I v^wt^mKHrbim wi^ : W wis » tsH vngiiiiiy fig«re»
4br««w#d itt » kwfr b^H^ eo«i» ^kMifrnt uadfAttimr'
r(> w««^ cotti I •vvr sm V : tub Twt WIS soaedmig like U«e
Yii>N«i« ukI Ki» W«gli>s of Umdwr^ lyvckM with sihcr
kne4^^«K4Jk». H<^ wwe ahrmys wloto ^read slockiDgB,
ami as las bw<cW caMe exartly to the knap of ^
knef\ Ida legs appeared so lai»fr and tkm^iat it was a
Marrel to me horn d»j canried biau Take in black

Tms MARVELLOUS DOCTOR; 10$

f/fiAy mttt rT«ry naifow-brimmed hat, tfnd yon \m^
die %iire eompllete; any painter might take his likte^
Resa, piiotided he* did not make him too straij^t in thi^
baek, which wonld never answer, as his formed the^egt-
ment of a great circle. He was a doctor ; but whefliei*
•f'lavT, medicine, or divinity, I never learned ; perhaps
elf t^em all, for a doctor he certainly was — ^we called
Mm so^ and never knew him by any other name ; soihe,
ifideefd, called him' the Lying Doctor, dome the Herb
Dt>ctoi^, and sotne the Warlock Doctor ; but my mother,'
behiiidhis back) called him always 'Tit a MARVELtotid
Doctor, which I have chosen tb retain, as ^e one^
aboiit^ whose aconrac)^ there caii be no dispute.

His whole ocmipation was in gatheiing flowers and
herlft^ and arranging them'; and, as he picked a nUtnber'
of lliese out of the chnnchyaid, the old wive6 in the vi-
cinity grew terribly jealous of him. He seemed, by lua^
own a€!Cimnt, to have been over the whole wtrrid, on
what business or in what capacity he never mentioned^
but'fi'om Ms^stbries of himself, and of his wonderful ifesCts,
(me might have concluded that he had been every thii^'
I remember a number of tUese^ stories quite distinctly^
for at that time I believed them all ' for perfect trutbf
though I have been dbce led to sus|>ect-tbat it wliv
scarcely consist^^t with nature or reason they ooiddbe
wtu One or two of these tales I shall here relate, bnt^
with this great disadvantage, that I have^ in maiiy io^^

tw

iM

I kimof

llM

f tlie

▼e

«. it CM M w««a 7<an' bad

ttanHiiig ; hrt at hrt I dfcct-

wIk'H' It* fuf^wet ?-^-iBy^ fiutlmw ww
Hf line was lost, ami I mysdf was twenty times
en d» peiBl ef beia^^ lost toow'

t^i^

n

THB MARVELLOUS DOCTOR* 111

*^ Dear Doctor, tell us some o' your ploys wi' that
4rog ; for they surely must he very curious, especially
if yon used it as a love- charm to gar the lasses follow
you." — ^The Doctor, be it observed, was one of the
most unlikely persons in the world to be the object of
a tender passion.

^ I did use it as a love-charm,'' replied the sage, smi-
ling grimly ; << and sometimes got those to follow me
that I did not want, as you shall hear by and by. But
before I proceed, I may inform you, that I was offered »
hundred thousand pounds by the College of Physidana
in Spain, and twice the sum by the Queen of that coun-
try, if I would impart my discovery to them in full ; and
I refused it I Yes, for the sake of human nature I re-
fused it. I durst not take the offer, for my life."

<< What for, Doctor?"

** What for, woman ? Do you say, what for? Don't
you see that it would have turned the world upside
down, and inverted the whole order of nature ? The
lowest miscreant in the country might have taken
away the first lady — ^might have taken her from her
parents, or her husband, and kept her a slave to him
for life ; and no opiate in nature to counteract the power
of the charm. The secret shall go to the grave with
me ; for were it once to be made public in any country,
that country would be ruined ; and for the sake of good
order among mankind, I have slighted all the grandeur

119 TBE 9RWHmKD*9 CJUaECD.

Vfld uDi IPOVM MWd BBW MMOWCQ* xBfr flMt ClVIKt

trial of vr fkm wat a pdbfie mut ;**— and Ae t>o4slor
ipnt on to pnalc Oat n iwcancu as roll<ywa ?

^9f yynnfp !pmffpar«

Ha V1XG brought mv Tahied dnrm to foil pa'feetion
dbroad, I retmrned to Bntun to enjoy die fruit' of my
labonn, conyinced that I would ensure a patSmt, and
cairy all the world before me. But on my arriyid' in
London, I was told that a great Spanish Professor had
made the discorery five years before, and had armed
at great ribhes and preferment on that accotmt, under
tb^ {fotronage of the Queen. Convinced that' no man
alive was thoroughly master of the charm but myself,
I went straight to Spain, and waited on tins eminent'Fro-
fessor, whdse name was Don Felix de Valdez. This
man liv^ in a style superiot to the great nobility and'
gnmdees of his country. He had a palace that was litft
exceeded 'in "splendour by aftjr in the city, and'aistdte'ctf^
lacqueys, young gentlemen, arid phyBicians, attending'
Uhhi as if he had been the greatest man in the world:
It cdst me much trouble, and three da^' atiendatk^,*
Mfcnre I could be admitted to his presence -; arid ereii*
thelf'Ntf received me so cavalierly that liiy BritiBh lAoM'
bofled with indignation.

<« ynkX is it yori'wtet with m*, fellow?" saM hfe

2

^THB MARVELLOUS DOCTOiU 11^

« Sir, I would have you know," said I, « that I m
an Englifik Doctor, and Master of Arts, and t/af& fel^
l4W in any respect. So far good« I was told in iny
dWH country) sir, that you are a pretender to the pro^
foiind 1^ of attachment ; or, in other words, that yon
hbre made a discovery of that divine elixir, wMdi at*-
laches every living creature touched with it to your per^
son. Do you pretend to such a discoveiy ? Or do yon
»oir, sir ?'*

<< AAd what if I do, most suhlime Doctor and Mafi^
ter of Arts ? In what way does that concern your gteBk
8ii|>ience?"

" Only thus far. Professor Don Felix de Valdez,**
sftyb I, *^ that the discovery is my chvn, wholly my owafj
laid solely my own ; and after travelling over half tti^
world in my rese^ches for the proper ingredients, and
making myself master of the all-powerful nostrum, ih
it reasonable, do you think, that I should be deprivii^
^ my honour and emolument without an effort ? 1 am
e<^e from Britain, sir, for the sole purpose of challe^
^iBg you to a trial of skill before your sovereign and kH
bis people, as well as the learned world in general I
throw down the gauntlet, sir. Dstre you enter lite Kstft
a^/Hh me?

'< Deske my lacqueys to take awfty this mad fereigijh
er/' said be to an attendant. " Beat him well wii^
fffstveS) for his impertinence, and give bim up to^tHe oi*

114 THE shepherd's CALENDAIU

ficen of police, to be put in the House of CoRection ;
and say to Signior Pbilippo that I ordered it*"*

<< YoQ ordered it T said !• << And who are yon, to
order such a thing ? I am a free-born British subject)
a Doctor, and Master of Arts and Sciences, and I }iaT9
a pass from your government to come to Madrid t0
exercise my calling ; and I dare any of you to touch a
hair of my bead.'*

<^ Let him be taken away/* said be, nodding disdain*
fully, << and see that you deal with him as I have com-
manded."

The students then conducted me gently forth^ joe*
tending to pay me great deference ; but when I was put
into the hands of the vulgar lacqueys, they made sport
of me, and having their master s orders, used me with
great rudeness, beating me, and pricking me with
needle-pointed stilettos, till I was in great fear for my
life, and was glad when put into the bands of the police.

Being liberated immediately on making known my
country and erudition, I set myself with all my might
to bring this haughty and insolent Professor to the test.
A number of his students having heard the challenge
it soon made a great noise in Madrid ; for the young
King, Charles the Third, and particularly his Queen^
were half mad about the possession of such a nostram
at that period. In order, therefore, to add fuel to the
flame now kindled, I published challenges in every one

THS MARVELLOUS DOCTOR. 115

of the Spanish journals, and causing three thousancl
copies to be printed, I posted them up in every comer
of the city, distributing them to all the colleges of the
kingdom, and to the college of Toledo in particular,
of which Don Felix was the Principal — ^I sent a seal-
ed copy to every one of its twenty-four professors, and
Caused some hundreds to be distributed amongst th^
ttudents.

This challenge made a great noise in the city, and
Mxm reached the ears of the Queen, who became quite
impatient to witness a trial of our skill in this her fa»
vourite art. She harassed his Majesty with such ef-
fect, that he was obliged to join her in a request to
FrofesaOr Don Felix de Valdez, that he would vouch*
tafe a public trial of skill with this ostentatious fo-^
reigner.

The Professor besought that he might be spared the
indignity of a public exhibition along with the crazy
half-witted foreigner, especially as his was a secret art*
and ought only to be practised in secret. But the
voices of the court and the colleges were loud for the
trial, and the Professor was compelled to consent and
name a day. We both waited on their Majesties to
settle the order and manner of trial ; and on drawing
lots who was to exhibit first, the Professor got the pre«
ference. The Prado was the place appointed for the
exhibition, and Good Friday the day. The Professor

1 ii TSB shepherd's CALENINUL

CEgiggd xm enter the lists precisely «t half past twelte
•flock ; Kat he hegged that he might be snfiered to
ceme in disguise, in order to do away all siiapiieiofiil ef
a prirate understanding with otho^s ; and assured iheir
Majesties that he would soon be known ib thdtt by
his works.

When the i^ipointed day amved, I yerily belkfed
that aU Spain had assembled to witness the trial. I was
placed next to the royal stage, in company with many
learned doctors, the Qneen bdng anxious to witnesB
^ ^fect that the display of her wonderful Ptofessor's
skill produced on me, and to hear my remarks. The
anxiety that preyailed for almost a whole hour trai
wonderful ; for no one knew in what guise the I¥o*
fessor would appear, or how attended, or who wars
tlie persons on whom the effect of the unguent was to
be tried. Whenever a throng or bustle was perceited
in any part of the parade, then the buzs began, <^ Yoin-
der he is now I Yon must be he, our great Professor,
Don Felix de Valdez, the wonder of Spain and of the
world I"

The Queen was the first to perceive him, perhaps
fr6m some private hint given her in what disguise he
ttroidd appear ; on which she motioned to me, poinih^
out a mendicant Friar as my opponent, and added, that
ahe thought it but just and right that I should witness
fdl his tiiotions, hifi( feats, a^d the power of his art. L

TH$ MARVELLOUS DOGTOB* 117

d^d ^Qp and thought very meanly of the whole exhihJL-
tian, it heing, in fiact, nothing els^ than a farce got up
ainong a great niunjber of associates;, all of whom were
combined to carry on the deception, a^d share in th0
profits accruing therefrom. The Friar did nothing tiU
be came opposite to the royal stage, when, beckoning
slightly to her Majesty, he began to look out for hi^
game, and perceiving an elegant lady sitting on a stagQ
i|dth her back towards him, he took a phial from hit
bo^om, and letting the liquid touch the top of his finger^
lie reachjed up that finger and, touched the hem, of th^
lady's robe. She u;ttered a scream, as if pierced- to
tbq heart, sprung to h^r feet, at^ held her breast as if
wounded ; then, after looking round and round, as if la
great agitation^ she descended from the stage, followed
t^e l^riar, l^eeled at his fj^et^ and entreated to b^ i^<>
loy^^d to foUoTv; and serve him. He requested her tQ
4/^^aift} as b^ 9^^^ ^^^ ^^ served by woman ; but she
ix^pt and fpUow^d on. He Qame to a thidj;-lippe^
African, who wa^ stan4ing grinning at th^ sqene. Th^
Frof^^v touched hip^. with. Ifis, unguent, and immc^
.dkjtely bla^kie fell a-strivipg, with. the lady, who should
.w|4^ n^sU. the wpn4^i^}, ^!^^ ^^ ^^ ^^^ actually
went to blows, to the greid; afoausement of, tl^e spec^
t^lf^, who applauded these two feats prod^ously,
iai4 hailed their Professor as.the gieal^at nouiQiu.thf
world* He w:alked t\v;ice th^ ^Pgl^h of th^ fJiPM&g^i

lis THB shepherd's CALEMDAS.

and certainly every one whom he touched with his abdr
ment followed him, so that if he had been a straoger
in the commwiity as I was, there could scarcely have
been a doubt of the efficacy of his unguent of attnc*
tion. When he came last before the royal stage, and
ours, he was encumbered by a crowd of persons fol-
lowing and kneeling to him ; apparently they were of
all ranks, from the highest to the lowest. He then
caused proclamation to be made from a stage, that if
any doubted the power of his elixir, he might have it
proved on himself without danger or disgrace ; a dowa-
ger lady defied him, but he soon brought her to ha
knee with the rest, and no one of the whole b^;ged to
be released.

The King and Queen, and all the judges, then de-
claring themselves satisfied, the Professor withdrew,
with his motley followers, to undo the charm in secret ;
after that, he returned in most brilliant and gorgeous
array, and was received on the royal stage, amid deaf-
ening shouts of applause. The King then asked me,
if I deemed myself still able to compete with his li^
kinsman. Professor Don Felix de Yaldez? or if I join-
ed the rest in approval, and yielded the palm to his
merits in good fellowship ?

I addressed his Majesty with all humility, acknow-
ledged the extent of the Professor's powers, as very
^wonderful, provided they were all real; but of that

THB MARVELLOUS DOCTOR. 119

there was no proof to me* << If he had been a foreign-
er, and a stranger, as I am, in this place, and if pre-
judices had been excited against him," added I, << then
I would have viewed this exhibition of his art as highly
Wimderfiil ; but, as it is, I only look on it as a well
eontriyed £Eurce."

The Professor reddened, and bit his lip in the height
of scorn and indignation ; and indeed their Majesties
imd all the nobility seemed offended at my freedom ;
cm which I added, <^ My exhibition, my liege, shall be
a very short one ; and I shall at least conyince your
JVlajesty, that there is no deceit nor collusion in it."
And with that I took a small syringe from my bosom,
which I had concealed there for the purpose, as the
liquor, to have due effect, must be always warm with
the beat of the body of him that sprinkles it ; and with .
that small instrument, I sqidrted a spray of my elixir
on Professor Don Felix*s fine head of hair, that hung
in wavy locks almost to his waist,
i At that moment there were thousands all standing
agape, eager to witness the effect of this bold appeaL
The Professor stood up, and looked at me, while the
tears stood in his eyes. That was the proudest mo«
ment of my life I For about the space of three minutefi,
his pride seemed warring with his feelings; but the
energy and impulse of the latter prevailed, and be cam^
find kneeled at my feet.

)20 TUB $HfiPH£BI>*t CAJJBtn%At^

<<Felix9 you dog I what i» tke nawming of tin?''
cried I. " How dare you go and dreM yovraalf Hkea
§^aiidee of the kiDgdom, and thea oome fiorth aad
Hioimt Uie stage in the presence of royalty, kMMRmg,
as yoa do, that yoa were bom to be my slave ? Ge
this instant ! doff that gorgeous appaisly and pal on
By liyery, and come and wait here at my heeL And,
do you hear, bring my horse properiy caparisoned, and
one to yourself; for I ride into the country to duumv
Tal^e note of what I order, and attend to it, else 1%
beat you to a jelly, and have you distilled into iha
elixir of attraction. Presumption indeed, to come in-
to my presence in a dress like that I"

He ran to obey my orders, and then the admiratJon
so lately expressed was turned into contempt. All t)ie
people were struck with awe and astonishment. They
could not applaud, for they were struck dumb» and
0yed me with terror, as if I had been a divinity. <« This
exceeds all comprehension," said the judges. ** II he
^Ad.told me that he could have upheaved the Pyroiean
o^oiintains from their foimdations, I could as well baiBS
belieyed it," said the King. But the Queen was die
niOBt perverse of all, for she would not believe il|
thpi)gh she witnessed it; and she declared she nef«r
would bqlieve it to be a reality, for I had only thrown
ghmipur ift their eyes. " Is it possible," said she, ^ tlml
the most famous man in Spain, or perhaps in the woiH

TAB MABVELLOUS DOCTOR. 121.

who has hmidreds to serve hhn, and run at his bidding,
^lOuld all at once, by his own choice^ submit to be--
come a slave to an opponent whom he despised, and
ho buffeted like a dog, without resenting it ? No ; 111
never believe it is any thing but an illusion."
' « There is no denying of your victory," said King
Chaples 4o me ; << for you have humbled your opponent
is the dust. — You must dine with me to-night, as we
have a great entertainment to the learned of our king-
dom, over all of whom you shall be preferred to the
iHghest place. But as Don Felix de Valdez is like-
wise an invited guest, let me entreat you to disenchant
him, that he may be again restored to his place in so-
ciety."

^ I shall do myself the distiagmshed honour of di-
ning with your exalted and most Catholic Majesty," I
replied. <^ But will it be no degradation to your high
dignity, for the man who has worn my Hvery in pub-
lic, to appear the same day at the table of royalty ?"

^This is no common occmrence," answered the
King. <^ Although, by one great effort of art, nature
has been overpowered, it would be hard that a great
man should remain degraded for ever."

** Well, then, I shall not only permit him to leave
my service, but I shall order him from it, and beat
him from it. I can doxio more to oblige your Majesty
at present.'*

VOIi. IT. F

122 THE shepherd's calbmdab.

** What I can you not then lemoye the cfasm J^
said he. <<Yon saw the Profieasor could do that at
once.**

«« A mere trick,'* said L << If the Profesaor, Don
Felix, had heen in the least conscious of the power of
his liqnor, he would at once have attacked and de-
graded me. It is quite evident* I expected a trial at
least, as I am sure all the company did ; hat I stood
secure, and held him and his art at defiance. He is a
sheer impostor, and his boasted discovery a cheat."

<< Nay, but I have tried the power of his ungumit
again and again, and proved it,'' said the Queen. << But^
indeed, its effect is of very short duration ; therefore^
all I request is, that you will give the Professor his
liberty ; and take my word for it, it will soon be ac-
cepted."

I again promised that I would ; but at the same time
I shook my head, as much as to signify to the Queen,
she was not aware of the power of my elixir ; and I
determined to punish the Professor for his insolence
to me, and the sound beating I got in the court of his
hotel. While we were speaking, Don Felix approach-
ed us, dressed in my plain yellow livery, leading my
horse, and mounted on a grand one of his own, that
cost two hundred gold ducats, while mine was only a
hack, and no very fine animal either,

<< How dare you have the impudence to mount my

THE MARVELLOUS DOCTOR. 123

horsei sir ?" exclaimed I, taking his gold-headed whip
from him, and lashing him with it. ^< Get off instantly,
you blondering booby, take your own spavined jade,
and ride off where I may never see your face again/'

^< I beg your pardon, honoured master,'' said he,
humbly ; ^' I will take any horse you please ; but I
thought this had been mine."

<<You thought, sirrah I What right have you to
think ?" I demanded. ^< I desire no more of your at-
tendance," I continued. ^' Here, before their Majesties,
and all their court and people, I discharge you my ser^
vice, and dare you, on the penalty of your life, ever
to approach my presence."

<^ Pardon me this time," said he ; << TU sooner die
than leave you."

" But you shall leave me or do worse," said I, " and
therefore disappear instcmtly ;" and I pushed him
through the throng away from me, and lashed him with
the whip till he screamed and wept like a lubberly
boy.

^< You must have some one to ride with you and be
your guide," he said ; <* and why will you not suffer
me to do so ? You know I cannot leave you."

His Majesty, taking pity on the helpless Professor)
sent a livery-man to take his place, and attend me on
my little jaunt, at the same time entreating him to de-
sist, and remember who he was. It was all in vain.

He fiwighi witk tke Kings Mnrant for the privflege,
■J hack, and followed dm to the TiU% aheiit
milce firom the dty, where I had been fgaged ta
diae. The news had not armed of my yieloiy whea
Igotthere. The lofd of the manor was at the exhibi-
tkin» and he not having retaraed, the ladiea wen all
impatience to learn the reenh.

^ It becomes not me, noble ladiesy" said I, ^^ to bring
the news of my own triamph, whidi yon might Terf
reasonably expect to be nntme, m overcharged; bat
yon shall witness my power yonrBelTea.

Thou they set np eldrich screann in firolic, ud
begged, iw the sake of the Virgin, that I wonld not
put my skill to the test on any of them, for they had
no desire to foUow to England even a master of the
arts and sciences; and every one assured me penKmally
that she wonld be a horrid plagae to me, and that I
had better pause before I made the experiment.

<^ My dear and noble dames," said I, << there is no-
thing farther from my intention than to make any of yon
the objects of fascination. But come all hither,** and
I threw up the sash of the window — ^< Come all hither,
and behold a pro<^ ; and if more is required, it shall
not be lacking. See ; do you all know that gentleman
diere?"

*^ What gentleman ? Where is he ? I see no gmtie-
man,*' was the general rejoinder.

TiiB MARVELLOUS DOCTOB* 125

<< That gfflitleman wlie is lioldiiig my horse— -he on
the s<»iy hfu^ there> with yellow livery* You all know
him assuredly. That is your great Professor, Don
Felix de Valdez, accounted the most wonderful man in
Spatn^ and by many of you the greatest in the workL**

They woidd not believe it, until I called him dose
up to the door of the chateau, and showed him to them
tike any wild beast or natural curiosity, and called him
by his name. Then they grew frightened, or pretended
to be so, at being in the presence of a man of so much
power, for they all knew the Professor personally ; and
if one coidd have beUeved them, they were like to go
into hysterics for fear of fascination. Yet, for all that,
I perceived they were dying for a specimen of my art,
and that any of them would rather the experiment
•fa<Hild be made on herself, than not witness it.

Accordingly, there was a very handsome and en-
gaging brunette of the party, named Donna Bashelli,
en whom I could not help sometimes casting an eye,
hmog a little fascinated myselL Tins was soon per-
ceived by the lively group, and they all gathered round
ise, and teased me to try the power of my philtre on
RashellL I asked the lady's consent, on which she
answered rather disdainfully, that *^ die would be fsm*
dbrnted indeed if she followed me / and therefore she
Jifdd me at defiance, provided I did not touch her, whidi
ahe would noi allow."

126 THE shepherd's CALBNDA8.

Without more ado, I took my tube from my bosom,
and squirted a little of the philtre on her lefi-foot shoe
— at least I meant it so, though I afterwards peroeived
that some of it had touched her stocking.

^ And now, Donna Rashelli/' said I, ** yon are in
for your part in this drama, and you little know wbsX
you have authorized." She turned from me in disdain \
but it was not long till I beheld the tears gathering in
her eyes ; she retired hastily to a recess in a window,
covered her face with her hands, and wept InNterly.
The others tried to comfort her, and laugh her out of
her frenzy, but that was of no avail ; she broke from
them, and, drowned in tears, embraced my knees, re-
questing in the most fervent terms to be allowed the
liberty of foUowing me over the world.

The ladies were all thrown by this into the utmost
consternation, and besought me to undo the charm, both
ibr the sake of the young lady herself and her honolnr*
able kin ; but I had taken my measures, and paid no
regard to their entreaties. On the contrary, I made
my apology for not being able to dine there, owing to
the King's commanding my attendance at the palate^
took a hasty leave, mounted my horse, and, with Doa
Felix at my back, rode away.

I knew all their power could not detain Donna Rai^
elli, and, riding slowly, I heard the screams of mad-
ness and despair as they tried to hold her. She tors

THE MARVELLOUS DOCTOR. 127

their head-dresses and robes in pieces, and fought like
a fury, till they were glad to suffer her to go ; but they
^ folio nred in a group, to overtake and entreat me to
restore their friend to liberty,

I forded the stream that swept round the groimds,
and waited on the other bank, well knowing what
would occur, as a Spanish maiden never crosses even
a rivulet without taking off her shoes and stockings.
Accordingly she came nmning to the side of the stream,
followed by all the ladies of the chateau, calling to me,
and adjuring me to have pity on them. I laughed aloud
at their tribulation, saying, I had done nothing but at
I their joint request, and they must now abide by the
consequences. Rashelli threw off her shoes and stock-
ings in a moment, and rushed into the stream, for fear
of being detained ; but before taking two steps, the
charm being removed with her left-foot shoe, she stood
still, abashed ; and so fine a model of blushing and re-
pentant beauty I never beheld, with her ravea hair
hanging dishevelled far over her waist, her feet and
. half her limbs of alabaster bathing in the stream, and
,^her cheek overspread with the blush of shame.

** What am I about ?" cried she. " Am I mad ? or
bewitched ? or possessed of a demon^ to run after a
mountebank, that I would order the menials to drive
from my door I"

^< So you are gone, then, dear Donna Rashelli?"

ViS THE shepherd's CALENDAR.

cried I. '* Farewell, then, «nd peace be with you.
SImll I not see you again bef<n:e leaving this countiy?"
hot she looked not np, nor deigned to reply. Away
•he tripped, led by one lady on each hand, barefooted
as she was, till they came to the gravel walk, and then
Ae sUpped on her morocco shoes. The moment her
left-foot shoe was on, she sprang towards me again, and
all the dames after her foil cry. It was precisely like
a hare-hnnt, and so comic, that even the degraded Don
Felix langhed amain at the scene. Again she pltmged
into the stream, and again she retm-ned, weeping for
shame ; and this self-same scene was acted seven times
cyver. At length I took compassion on the humbled
beanty, and called to her aimt to seize her left-foot i^ioe^
and wash it in the river. She did so ; and I, thinking
all was then over and safe, rode on my way. But I bad
not gone three furlongs till the diase again commenced
as loud and as violently as ever, and in a short time ihe
lady was again in the stream. I was vexed at Ais, not
knowing what was the matter, and terrified that I might
have attached her to me for life ; but I besought her
friends to keep her from putting on her stocking like-
wise, till it was washed and fomented as well as her
shoe. This they went about with great eagerness, an
old dame seizing the stocking, and hiding it in her bo-
som ; and when I saw this I rode quid^ly away, afraid
I should be too late for my engagement with- the King.

THE MARVELLOUS DOGTOIU 129

We had turned the comer of a wood, when again the
•creams and yells of females reached our ears.

<< What, in the name of St Nicholas, is this now ?' ■
said I.

^ I suppose the hunt is up again, sir ; hut surely our
hest plan is to ride <^ and leave them/' replied Don
Felix.

« That will never do," returned I ; " I cannot have
a lady of rank attending me at the palace; and no
power on earth, save iron and chains, can detain her,
if one-thousandth part of a drop of my elixir remain
about her person."

We turned hack, and behold there was the old
dowager coming waddling along, with a haste and agi*-
tation not to be described, and all her daughters, niecesy
and maidens, after her. She had taken the river at the
broadest, shoes and all, and had got so far a-head of her
pursuers that she reached me first, and seizing me by
the leg, embraced and kissed it, begging and praying all
tbe while for my favour, in the most breathless and gro-
tesque manner imaginable. I knew not what to do ; not
in the least aware how she became affected, till Donna
RasheUi called out, ^ O, the stocking, sir, the stock-
ing I" on which I caused them to take it from her alto-
gether, and give it to me, and then they went home in
peace.

I dined that night with their Majesties, not indeed at

f2 ^

? 1 ■•■

ma* 4Stfr^ ar & piItnoL JtutsL v5ca. £-o£d fcr

W :^ lD^!4f <^ tllLlUS be-

^qp-^ffij ■■M.i dttte

^I^ SfL I

19^0^ mm im::^itcii ^ itw iasss^ ^kt wr^pesttd man,

yt<C4Wii£iMMiy:^ttrk«^miMK»oawiikI|Hrepared

*A,>Mnut^ >K ^ «4S(v-« jcWi^Kini br the chann in die
)NMk««<«MKMW«NMM. Had I vMded to die ic

THE MARVELLOUS DOCTOR. 131

quests of the young nobles for supplies, I migbt almosl
have exhausted the riches of Spain ; but as it was, I had
got more than my own weight in gold, part of which (
forwarded to London, and put the remainder out to in-
teirest in Spain, and left IV^Mirid not without fear of be-
ing seized and sent to tlie Inquisition as a necromancer.
•In place of that, however, the highest honours were be-
stowed on me, and I was accompanied to the port by
'numbers of the first people of the realm, and by all the
friends of the Professor Don Felix de Valdez. These
people had laid a plot to assassinate me, which they
would have executed but for fear that the charm would
never leave their friend ; and as Felix himself discovered
it to me, I kept him in bondage till the very day I was
4ibout to sail ; then I caused his head to be shaved^ and
iBeadied with a preparation of vinegar, alum, and cinna-
mon ; and he returned to his senses and right feelings
once more. But he never could show his face again in
the land wherein he had been so much caressed and ad-
•mired, but changed his name and retired to Peru, where
lie acquired both fame and respectability.

When a man gains great wealth too suddenly and
with much ease> it is not imusual for him. to throw it
away with as little concern as he had anxiety in the ga-

132 THE shepherd's CALEia>AR.

of it. This I was «wve of, and detennifledto
myoid. I began, therefore^ widiout Iom of time^ to look
about me for a respectable settlement in Hfe ; and ba-
▼mg, after mncb inquiry, obtained a list of tiie nnmanied
ladies possessing the greatest fortunes in England^ I fix-
ed on a young Countess, who was a widow, bad a kige
fortune, and suited my wbbes in every respect Poa-
sessing as I did the divine cordial of love, I bad no fan
of her ready compliance; so, titer providing mjsdf
with a suitable equ^age, I set off to her residence to
court and win her without any loss of time.

On arriving at her mansion about noon, I was radier
eoldly received, which was not surprising, for I had no
introduction, but trusted to my own powers alone.
Though shy and reserved at first, she, however,, at
length invited me to an early dkmer, lettkig me know
at the same time that no visitor remained thi^re ovei^
night whsa her brother was not present. This was ao
much gained ; so I made my aeknowledgmeats^ and
accepted the invitation, — ^thinking to myself. My pret-
ty Countess, before you and I. part, your baaglitineas
shall be wonderfully abated ! — ^I waited my ppportuni*
ty, and as she was leaving the apartment, aimed a small
sprinkling of my cordial at her bushy locks ; but owing
to a sudden cast of her head, as ladies will a&ct pret-
ty am of dkdain, the spray of my poworfid eMxir of

THE MABVELLOUS DOCTOR. 133

lore feU on an embroidered scarf that hvng gracefully
cm her shoulder.

I was now sure of the effect, provided she did not
thrvw the scarf aside before I got her jM-eperly sprink-
led anew, but I had hopes its operation would be top
instant and potent to permit that. I judged right ; in
tfivee minutes she returned to the drawing-room, and
proposed that we two should take a waUs in her park
before ^nner, as she had some cwiosities to show me.
I acquiesced with pleasure, as may well be supposed.
*— I haye you now, my pretty Countess, thought I ;
if k be in your power to escape me, I shall account
you more than woman.

This park of hers was an immense fieM enclosed with
"B high wall, with a rafl on the top. She had some roes
in it, one couple of fallow deer, and a herd of kine. This
last was what she pretended that the wished to show
me ; they were all milk-white, nay> as white as snow.
They were not of the wild bison breed, but as gentle
and tame as lambs'— <»une to her when called by thek*
ofumes, and seemed so fond (^ being caressed, that se-
veral were following and teasing her at the same time.
One favourite in particular was so foody that she became
troublesome ; and the kdy wished to be quit fd her.
But the beast would not go away. She followed on,
-humming, and rubbing ou her mistress with her ehedc,
till at last the latter, to rid herself of the annoyance, took

1S4 THE shepherd's calekoar.

ker scarf, and struck the cow sharply across the face
with it I The tassels of the scarf fastened on the far
liom of the cow, and the animal heing a little hurt by
the stroke, as well as hlinded, it sprang away ; and in
one moment the lady lost hold of her scarf. This was
4eath and destruction to me ; for the lady was thus be-
Teayed of all her attachment to me in an instant, and
what the Countess had lost was transferred to the cow.
I therefore pnrsned the animal with my whole speedy
calling her many kind and afiectionate names, to make
her stop. These she did not seem to understand, for
atop she would not ; but perceiving that she was a little
blindfolded with the scarf, I slid quietly forward, and
making a great spring, seized the embroidered scarf by
the comer. The cow galloped, and I ran and held, de-
termined to have the scarf, though I should tear it all
to pieces, — for I knew well that my divine elixir had the
effect of rousing animals into boimdiess rage and mad-
ness,— and held with a desperate grasp. I could not ob-
tain it I All that I e£Fected was to fasten the other horn
in it likewise, and away went the cow flaimting through
the park, like a fine madam in her gold embroidery*

I fled to the Countess as fast as my feet could cany
Ine, and begged her, for Heaven's sake, to fly with m^
for that our lives were at stake. She could not under-
•tand this ; and moreover, she, that a minute or two be-
fore had been clinging to me with as much confidenoe

THE MARVELLOUS DOCTOR* 135

as if our acquaintance had been of many years' standing^
and of the most intimate kind, appeared to have con*
ceived a sort of horror of me, and would not allow me
to approach her. There was no time to parley ; so I
left her to shift for herself, and fled with all my might
towards the gate at which we entered, knowing of no
other point of egress. Time was it ; for the creature
instantly became furious, and came after me at full
speed, bellowing like some agonized fiend escaped from
the infernal regions. The herd was roused by the out-
rageous sounds, and followed in the same direction,
every one galloping faster and roaring louder than an-
other, apparently for company's sake ; but, far a-head
of them all, the cow came with the embroidered scarf
flying over her shoulders, hanging out her tongue wd
bellowing, and gaining every minute on me. Next her
in order came a stately milk-white bull, tall as a hunt*
ing steed, and shapely as a deer. My heart became
chill with horror ; for of all things on this earth, I stood
in the most mortal terror of a bull. I saw, however,
that I would gain the wicket before I was overtaken;
and, in the brightness of hope, I looked back to see what
had become of the Countess. She had fallen down on
a rising ground in a convulsion of laughter ! This net-
tled me exceedingly ; however, I gained the gate ; but,
O misery and despair I it was fast locked, the Countess
having the pass-key. To clear the wall was out of my

136 TflE SHEPHEBD*8 CALENDAR.

powvBsodimdilemiiiaaBltbenwwin, SO I hadno-
fUag hii for it Imt swiftness of foot Often had I
vahwd myself on ^t qualification, bnt little expected
wm to have so nradi need of it. So I ran and ran, pnr-
••ad by twenty milk-wfaite kine and a Indl, all bellow-
ing lika as many infnnal creatures. Nerer was there
wmA anodier diase I I tried to reach the place wha«
dM Conntess was, thinking she might be able, by her
▼oiee, to stay them, or, at all events, that she would tell
me how I coold escape from their fnry. Bnt the drove
having all got between Yn&r and me, I conld not effect
it, and was obliged to mn at random, which I continned
to do, straining with all my might, bnt now fonnd that
my breath was neariy gmie, and the terrible race draw-
ing to a crisis.

What was to be done ? Life was sweet, but expe^
dientsthoe were none. There were no trees in the paric
acre young ones, dropped down, as it were, here and
there, with palings round them, to prevent the cattle
from destroying them. The only one that I could per-
ceive was a tall fir, I suppose of the larch species, which
aeemed calculated to afford a little shelter in a despe-
rate case ; so I made towards it with a last effort. There
was a triangular paling around it, setting my foot oil
which, 1 darted among the branches, domb like a cat,
and soon vanisbed among the foliage.

Then did I call aloud to the Countess for assistance,

THC MARVELLOUS DOCTOR. 137

imploriiig her to raise the country for my rescue ; but
&11 that she did, was to come towards me herself, slow**
\y and with lagging pace, for she was feeble with laugh-
ing ; and when she did come, the cattle were all so
infuriated that they would not once regard her*

" What is the matter with my cattle, sir ?" cried aha.
** They are surely bewitched."

" I think they are bedeviled, and that is worse,
madam/' returned I. '< But, for Heaven's sake, try to
regean the scarf. It is the scarf which is the cause of
all this uproar."

<< What is in the scarf?" said she. << It can have no
effect in raising this deadly enmity against you, if all ia
flB it should be, which I now begin to suspect, from
some strange diversity of feelings I have experienced."

<< It is merely on account of the gold that is on it,
madam," said I. << You cannot imagine how mad the
right of gold, that pest of the earth, makes some ani-
mals ; and it was the effort I made to get it from the
animal that has excited in her so much fdry against me."

<' That is most strange indeed I" exclaimed the lady.
^ Then the animal shall keep it for me, for I would not
for half my fortune that these favourites i^ould be
driven to become my persecutors."

She How called the cattle by their names, and some
of them left me; for it was evident diat, save tha
diarmed animal, the rest of ihe herd were only numiag

138 Til£ Sll£rU£aD*i> CALENDAR.

for company or dirersiou's sake. Still their looks were
exceedingly wild and unstable, and the one that wofe
the anointed shawl, named Fair Margaret, continued
foaming ipad, and would do nothing but stand and bd-
low, toss her adorned head, and look up to the tree. I
would have given ten thousand pounds to have got hold
of that vile embroidered scarf, but to effect it, and re*
tain my life, at that time was impracticable*

And now a scene ensued, which, for horror to |n#
could not be equalled, although, to any unconcerned
beholder, it must have appeared ludicrous in the ex-
treme* The bull, perceiving one of his favourite mates
thus distempered, showed a great deal of anxiety ; be
went round her, and round her, and perceiving the
flaunting thing on her head and shoulders, he seemed
to entertain some kind of idea that it was the cause of
this unwonted and obstreperous noise. He tried to
fling it off with his horns, I know not how oft ; but so
awkward were his efforts that they all failed. Enraged
at being thus baffled, he then had recourse to a most
unexpected expedient — he actually seized the scarf
with his great mouth, tore it off, and in a few seconds
swallowed it every thread !

What was I to do now ? Here was a new enemy
and one ten times more formidable than the other, who
had swallowed up the elixir, and whom, therefore, it
was impossible ever to discharm ; who, I knew, would

THE MARVELLOUS DOCTaiU 139

pursue me to tfaer death, eren though at the distance of
fifty miles. I was in the most dreadful agony of ter*
tor imaginable, as well I might, for the cow went away
shaking her ears, as if happily quit of a tormentor, and
the bull instantly began to tear up the earth with hoof
and horn, while the late bellowings of the cow were, ta
fais, like the howl of a beagle to the roar of a lion. They
made the very earth to quake ; while distant woods, and
walls, and the very skies, returned the astounding
echoes. He went round and round the tree, digging
graves on each side of it ; and his fiiry still increasing
lie broke through the paling as it had been a spider's
web, and setting his head to the trunk, pushed with all
iiis mighty force, doubled by supernatural rag^. The
tree yielded like a bulrush, imtil I hung dangling from
it as if suspended from a cross-beam ; still I durst not
quit my hold, having no other resource. While in this
situation, I observed the Countess speeding iLway. It
seemed to me as if she were Hope flying from me and
abandoning me to my fate, and I uttered some piei^
cing cries of desperation. The tree, however, was young
and elastic, and always as the infuriated animal with*
drew his force for a new attack, it sprung up to its
original slender and stately form, and then down it went
again ; so that there was I swinging between heaven and
earth, expecting every moment to be my last; and if the
buD had not, in his mad eflforts, wheeled. round to the

IM THE SIUSFHSBD*S CALKKDAC

I Hiigbi kave been swiogiiig thoe to tUv
4ftf . WkeA he riii^d adfli» Ok fibres of the Me
wkened^attd at last I cum down to the earthy aad
hoBwiaelMe vhh Ibll force; it waa m Trnm that I
called to him to keep oi^ aed bellied him, and pie-
teadfid to heat dogs on him ; en he came, and {dnaged
Ua bona into die fohage; die eows did the same €oc
cempeays aake^ and, Tm soie^ aoTer was there a poir
aonl so completely BMibbed by a Talgar herd. StBl
te tree bed as mnch strength left as to heave me
gently abore their reach, aad no more, and I now be*
gan to lose all power throngh terror and deepair, and
amely kept my hold instinctiyely> as a drowning man
woold hold by a msk The next push the txee got it
was again laid prosUate^ and again the ball dadied hift
hams into the foliage^ and throngh that into the earth.
I now WW there was no longer any 1m^ of safety if I
remained where I was, aad therefore quitted hold of
dm treew How I escaped I scarce can t^ bnt I did
eacape dnrongh amongst the feet of the cows*

At first I stole away like a hare from a coTer, and
eoidd not help admiring the absurdity of die oows, diat
eontinned tossing and tearing the tree with their homi^
as if determined not to leairea stiver of it; whilst Aa
boll continQed grovelling with his bonis, down throagh
the brandiea and into the ground. Heavens ! widi
:«diat vdacity I dove the wind I I have fled fiKun bal-

THE MARVELLOUS DOCTOR. 141

tie— I haye fled from ihe face of the lions of Asia, the
dragons of Africa, and the snakes of America — 1 haye
fled hefore the Indians with their scalping knives ; hot
neyer in my life was I enahled to run with such speed
as I did from this infuriated monster.

He was now coming full speed after me, as I knew
he would, the moment he disengaged himself; but I
had got a good way a-head, and, I assiu'e you, was
losing no time, and as I was following a small beaten
track, I came to a stile over the wall. I never was so
thankful for any thing since I was bom I It was a
crooked stone stair, with angles to hinder animals from
passing, and a locked door on the top, about the height
pf an ordinary man. I easily surmounted this, by getting
hold of the iron spikes on the top ; and now, being
clear of my adversary, I set my head over the door
and looked him in the face, mocking and provo-
king him all that I could, for I had no other means of
retaliation, and felt exceedingly indignant at having
been put in duiger of my life by so ignoble an ^lemy.
I never beheld a more hideous picture of rage I He
was foaming at the mouth, and rather belching than
bellowing ; his tail was writhing in the air like a ser-
pent, and his eyes burning like small globes of bright
flame. He grew so enraged at length, that he rushed
up the stone stair, and the frame-work at the angles
b^;an to cxash before him. Thinks I to myself^

148 THE shepherd's calendar*

Friend, I do not covet such a close yicinity with you;
•o, with your leave, Y\\ keep a due distance ; and thai
descending to the high road, I again began to speed
away, though rather leisurely, knowing that he could
not possibly get over the iron-railed wall.

There was now a close hedge on every side of me,
about eight or ten feet high, and as a man who has
been in great jeopardy naturally looks about him for
tome safe retreat in case of an emergency, so I con-
tinued jogging on and looking for such, but perceived
none ; when, hearing a great noise far behind me, I
looked back, and saw the irresistible monster coming
tumbling from the wall, bringing gates, bars, and rail-
ing, all before him. He fell with a tremendous crash,
and I had great hopes his neck was broken, for at first
he tried to rise, and, stumbling, fell down again ; but,
to my dismay, he was soon again on the chase, and
making ground on me faster than ever. He came close
on me at last, and I had no other shift than to throw
off my fine coat, turn round to await him, and fling it
over his horns and eyes.

This not only marred liim, but detained him long
wreaking his vengeance on the coat, which he tore all
to pieces with his feet and horns, taking it for a part
of me. By this time I had reached a willow-tree in
the hedge, the twigs of which hung down within reach*
I seized on two or three of these, wrung them to-;

«

THE MARVELLOUS DOCTOR. 143

getlier like a rope, and by the assistance of that, swung
myself over the hedge. Still I slackened not my pace^
knowing that the devil was in the beast, and that no*^
thing but blood would allay his fury. Accordingly,
it was not long till I saw him plimging in the hedge ;
and through it he came.

I now perceived a fine sheet of water on my lef^>
about a mile broad, I knew not whether a lake or
river, never having been in those bounds before. I made
towards it with all my remaining energy, which was.
not great. I cleared many common stone-walls in my
course, but these proved no obstacles to my pursuer,^
and before I reached the lake, he came so close upon,
me, that I was obliged to fling my hat in his face, and as
be fortunately took that for my head, it served him a
good while to crush it in pieces, so that I made to the
lake and plunged in. At the very first, I dived and
swam under water as long as I could keep my breath,
assured that my enemy would lose all traces of me
then ; but when I came to the surface, I found him puf-
fing within two yards of me. I was in such horror, that
I knew not what to do, for I found he could swim
twice as fast as I could; so I dived again, but my breath
being gone, I could not remain below, and whenever
I came to the surface, there was he.

If I had had the smallest reasoning faculty left, or
bad once entertained a thought of resistance, I might

144 THE SHEPHERDS CALEKDAK.

Msily have known that I was now f^^Hy safe. The
beast coold not harm me. WheBerer he made a padi
at me, his head went below the water, whidi confoimd-
ad him. My perturbation was so extreme^ that I WM
•n the point of perishing from exhaostiony before I per-
ceived this to be the case. When, howerer, I did ob^
serve it, I took courage, seized him by the tail» eloaib
npon his back, and then rode in perfect safety.

I never got a more complete and satb&ctory re-
venge of an enemy, not even over the Spanish Prote-
8or, and that was complete enough ; but here I had no-
thing to do but to sit exulting on the monster's back,
while he kept wallowing and struggling in the waves.
I then took my penknife, and stabbed him deliberat^y
over the whole body, letting out his heart's blood. He
took this very much amiss, but he had now got enong^
of blood aroimd him, and began to calm himself. I
kept my seat nevertheless, to make all sure, till his
head sunk below the water, while his huge hinder parts
turned straight upmost, and I left him floating away
Hke a huge buoy that had lost its anchor.

'< Now, Doctor, gin a' tales be true, yours is nas

lee, that is certain," said my mother, at the condomn

of this narration ; << but I want some explanations— it*s

a grand story, but I want to take the conseqneneea

8

THB MARVELLOUS DOCTOR. 145*

aiang wi* me. What did the Queen o' Spain wi' a' the
ointmmit yon left wi' h^ ? I'm thinking there wad
be some strange scenes about that Court for a while.''

<< Why, Margaret, to say the truth, the elixir was
not used in such a way as might have been expected.
The truth appeared afterwards to have been this : The
King had at that time resolved on that ruinous, and
then yery unpopular war, about what was called the
Family Compact ; and finding that the clergy, and a
part of the principal nobility, were in opposition to it,
and that, without their concurrence, the war could not
be prosecuted with any effect, the Queen took this
very politic method of purchasing plenty of my divine
elixir oi attachment, and giving them all a touch of it
ev^y one. The effect was, of course, instant, potent,
and notorious; and it is a curious and incontestable
fact, that the effects of that sprinkling have continued
the mania of attachment among that class of Spain to
this day."

*' And how came you on wi* your grand Countess ?
Ye wad be a bonny figure gaun hame again to her
place, half-naked, and like a droukit craw, wi' the life
of her favourite animal to answer for I"

^' That is rather a painful subject, Margaret — rather
a painful subject. I never saw her again I I had lost my
coat and hat. I had lost all my money, which was in
notesy in swinmiing and diving. I had lost my carriage

VOL. II. G

146 TBE 8HBPHraU>*8 €AI£K1>A1L

and horees, md I had loet my good name, wbick ww
wont of all ; for from tiiat day forth, I was branded
and shnnned as a necromancer. The abrupt and ex-
traordinary changes in the lady*B seartiments had itot
escaped her own notice, while the distraction of ths
animals on the transference of the en<^anied scarf to
them, confirmed her worst 8ns[ncions, that I was a
dealer in milawfiil arts, and come to gain posseasiep
of herself and fortime, by the nKist in£Mnoiiia tneMwee^
and as I did not dioose to come to an explanatioa with
her on that snbject, I escaped as qnietly from the dis-
trict as possible.

^ It sm%ly can be no sin to dive into the hiddisii
mysteries of natmre, particularly those of plmts and
flowers. Why, then, haTe I been pmushed as Be«rar
pharmaeopolist was pmiished before ; can you t^ me
that, Margaret ?'*

"Indeed, can I— weel enou^i— ^Ooctor. Other
men haye studied the qualities o' yirbs to asstat HaMie ;
but ye haye done it only to pervert na!ta!re/>*«-«uid I
hope you hae read your mn in your puilishment/'

<< The very sentiment that my heart has whispoed
to me a thousand times ! It indeed occurred to me^
whilst skulking about on my escape after the adven*
ure with the Countess ; but it was not until fartiier
and still more bitter experience of the dangerous ef-
fects of my secret, that I could bring myself to destroy

THE MARVELLOUS I>OGTOR. 147

the maddening liquid. It had taken years oi anxiety
and labour to perfect a' mixture, from whidiyl antici-
pated the most heneficial results. The consequences
which it drew upon me, although, at first, they pro-
mised to he all I could wish$ preyed in the end evtarj
way annoying, and often wellnigh fiatal, and I carefid->>
ly ccmsutned wit^ fire eyery drop of the potion, and
every ficrap of writing, in which llie progress of the
tliscovery had been noted. I cannot myself forget
the pamfal and tedious steps by which it was obtain-
ed. And even after all the disasters to which it has
subjected me — after the miserable wreck of all my
high-pitched ambition, I cannot but feel a pride in* the
consciousness that I carry with me the knowledge of
a secret- never before possessed by mortal man, which
no one shall learn from me, and which it is all batcer"
tain that none after me will have perseverance endugh,
or genius, to arrive at I" ^ '^

The learned Doctor usually wound up the hbtory
of an adventure with a sonorous eonchision Hke the
above, the hi^- wrought theatrical tone of which, as
it was inoomprehensible to his hea^rers, for the tiost
part produced a wonderfal efiect. Looking upon the
gaimt form of the sage, I was penetrated with immea-
surable reverence, and thou^ the fascination of his
marvellous stories kept me listening with eager curi-
osity while they lasted, I dways retired* shortly «i^^

■M Wise able n» cadne the iBg[B8t
I ftnmmmtwmht appeared to

Vat tikflie aie snfficieBt
wr aipieci—. aad it wawUJ be idle to pvmie the Doc-
ur » fcarifmaiiiTa rmWr, AH I caa aay about these
aArcBSaEe* «*' bk k. tbat whea 1 heard them fim, I
necciwd thea at stiictiT trae ; my mother bdieved
dhem iMas aBpfimAV, aad die Doctor related diem
» it be bad believed ia ^ trvdi of them himself.
Bat there vere dwpatei cwy daj between my mo-
aad bim aboat ^ iaveatiai of the chaim, the
alvajs mtiatiiaiag tbat it was known to the
<bse£» of ^ ppsy Hibes for cmtaries hygone ; and
as proob of her fomkm, she cited Jidmie Faa's ae-
dactioa of the Ead of CaasiUis's lady, so well known
in Lowland song^ and Hector Kennedy s eedoctidii of
three bndesy all of high q[aafityy by merely toodniig
the pafana of their hands after wluch no power ooold
pfeTcni any of than from foDowing him. She like-
wise tohl a rery aflfectii^ story of an exceedingly besii-
tifol giriy named Sophy Sloan, who left Sarkhope, aDd
eloped after the gipsies, though she bad never ex-
changed a wwd with one of them. Her father and
uncle followed, and found her with them in an old
kihi on the water of Milk. Her head was wounded,

THE MARVELLOUS DOCTOR. 149

blood}r, and tied up with a napkin. They had pawn-
ed all her good clothes, and covered her with rags,
and though weeping with grief and despair, yet she
refused to leave them. The man to whom she was
attached had never asked her to go with him ; he even
threatened her with death if she would not return with
her father, but she continued obstinate, and was not
su£fered long to outlive her infatuation and disgrace.
This story ivas a fact ; yet the Doctor held all these
instance^ in utter contempt, and maintained his pre-
rogative, as the sole and original inventor of the
Elixir of Love.

There was not a doubt that the Doctor was skulk-
ing, and in terror of being apprehended for some mis-
demeanour, all the time he was at Ettrick Manse ; and
never one of us had a doubt that it was on account of
some enchantment. But I had reason to conclude,
long afterwards, that his seclusion then, and all the
latter part of his life, was owing to an imfortunate and
fatal experiment in pharmacy, which deprived society
of a number of valuable lives. The circumstances are
relisted in a note to the third volume of Eustace's
Pharmacopoeia, and it will there be seen that the de-
scription of the delinquent sidts exactly with that of
THE Marvellous Doctor.

150 THE SHEPHERD S CALENBAIU

CHAPTER IV.

THE WITCHE£{ OF TRAQUAXIU

There was once a young man, a natiye of Traqnair,
in the coimty of Peebles, whose name was Colin Hys-
lop> and who suffered more by witchcraft, and the in-
tervendon of supernatural beings, than any man I ever
heard of. /

Trai^uir was a terrible place then! There was a
witch almost in every hamlet, and a warlock here and
there besides. There were no £ewer than twelve
witches in one straggling hamlet, called Taniel Bum,
and five in Kirk Row. What a desperate place Tra-
quair had been in those days I But there is no person
who is so apt to overshoot his mark as the DeviL He
must be a great fool in the main ; for, with all hi^ sup*
posed acnteness, he often runs himself into the most
co-founded blund^s that ever the leader of an op-
position got into the midst of. Throughout all th^
annals of the human race, it is manifest, that whenever
he was aiming to do the most evil, he was uniibrmly *

THE WITCHES OF TRAQUAIR. 151

employed in such a way as to bring about the most
good ; and it seems to have been so, in a particular
manner, in the case with which my tale shall make the
reader acquainted.

The truth is, that Popery was then on its last legs,
and the Devil, finding it {as then exercised) a very con-
venient and profitable sort of religion, exerted himself
beyond measure to give its motley hues a little more
variety ; and the making witches and wai'locks, and
holding nocturnal revels with them, where every sort
of devilry was exercised, was at that time with him
a favourite plan. It was also favourably received by
the meaner sort of the populace. Witches gloried in
their power, and warlocks in their foreknowledge of
events, and the energies of their master. Women, be-
yond a certain age, when the pleasures and hopes of
youth delighted no more, flew to an int^^ourse with
the imseen powers, as affording, aa excitement of a
higher and more terrible nature ; and. me%' whose
tempers had been soured by disappointmeol: aiul ill
usage, betook themselves to the Prince of the-Pow^ of
the Air, enlisting undw his banuer, in hopes of obtain-
ing reVenge on their oppresscNrs, or those against whom
they had conceived displeasure. However extra-vi^ant
this may appear, there is no doubt of the fact, that, in
those days, the hopes of attaining some energies be*
yond the reach of mere human capability, inflamed the

1&2 THB SHKPUERD's CAUSNDAIU

and widied to attempts «id acto of the most
dbbolkad natiini ; lor haadiedi ackMwkdged tkeii
prinrtples axi fkxiad in tfaoBy beion the ti^Nnak
tliat adJBiliPMl them to the stake.

«« I aai aow fiurljr wader the posrer af witchcraft,"
Md Colm Hplop, as he eat OB the flida of tfe Fcathen
HilL with his pkid diawn over his head, the tesrs
down his brawn laaalf diedc^ aad a p^er
■rith aacoath lines and figures in has hand/—
** 1 «a now hhiy nadcr ^ power of witchcraft, «id
BMWt sdbmit to my fiite ; J am entangled^ eaehamed,
saUated ; and the fanh is all my own, for I have corn-
degree of sia which my sainted and dying
me would snlject me to the snares of
my heUidi neighboars and sworn adversaiies. My
piokir she^ hare a* been bewitched, and a great part
o* them have died daadng hornpipes and ¥Vench cur-
lilfians. I hnve beca changed, and ower again c^ian-
gcdt into shspew and fams dmt I darena think of, far
lam name ; and a* throi^ acooont of my ain sin.
Heth ! hat it is a qneo* thing that sin ! It has sae
IT hiroadB to the heart, and oatlets by the edifies,
to live and breathe in it. And I canna
traar that the Deil is the wyte oi m onr sins neither.
N% na : Uack as he is, he canna be the csase and the
aiaver of m our transgressions, for I find them often
engenderii^ and breeding in my heart as fast as mag-

THE WITCHES OP TBAQUAIR. 153

gots on tainted carrion ; and tfaen it is out o' the power
of man to keep them down. My father tanld* me, that
if aBc6 I let the Deil get his little finger into tthect my
transactions, he wad soon hae his haill hand into them
a*. Now I hae found it in effect, hut not in helief ;
for, Irotn a' that I caii borrow frae Rob Kirkwood, the
warlock, and my aunty Nans, the wickedei^ witdi in
Christendye, the Deil appears to me to be a geyan ob-
liging chap. That he is wayward and fond o' sin, I
hae nae doubt ; but in that he has mony neighbours.
And then his 'great power over the senses and condi-
tions of njen, oyer the winds, the waters, and the ele-
ment of flame, is to me incomprehensible, and would
make him appear rather a sort of yicegerent ortx the
otltskirt^ and unruly parts of nature, than an Opponent
to its lawful lord.^ — 'What then shall I do wiili this ?'*
looking at the scroll ; << shall I subscribe to the con-
dil^ns, and enlist imder his banner, or shall I not ? O
love, love I were it not for thee, all the torments that
Old' Mdioun and his followers could inflict, should not
induoe me to quit the plain path of Christianity^ But
that disdainful, cruel, and lovely Barbara! I must and
will have her, though my repentance should be with-
out measure and without end. So then it is settled!
Here I will draw blood from my arm-^— blot out the
sign of ihe cross with it) and form that of the crescent,
and these other things^ the meaning of whidi I do not

g2

!54 THE shepherd's eALBNDARi.

know. — Halloo I Whftt*s-that? Two beantifiil deers,
118 I am a sinner, and one of t&em lame. What a prey
for poor rained Colin ! and fairly off the royal bounds,
too. Now for it, Bawty, my fine dog ! now for a
clean chase I A' the links o' the Feath^i Wood winna
hi<Ie them from your infallible nose, billy Bawty.
Halloo I off you go I and now for the bow and the
broad arrow at the head slap I — ^What I ye winna hunt
a foot-length after them, will ye no ? Then^ Bawty,
there's some mair mischief in the wind for me I I see
what your frighted looks tell me. That they dinna
leare the scent of other deers on their track^but ane that
terrifies you, and makes your blood creep. It is hardly
possible, ane wad think, that witches could assume the
shapes of these bonny harmless features ; but their
power has come to sic a height hereabouts, that nae
man alive can tell what they can do. There's my
aunt Nans has already turned me into a gut, then to
a gainder, and last of a' into a three-legged stool I

'< I am a ruined man, Bawty I your master is a ruin-
ed man, and a lost man, that's far waur. He has sold
himself for lore to one beautiful creature, the comelies
of all the human race. And yet that beautiful creature
must be a witch, else how could a' the witches o' Tra-
quair gie me possession o' her ?

<< Let me consider and calculate. Now, supposing
they are deceiving me — for that's their character ; and

THE WITCHES OP TRAQUAIR. 155

supposing they can never put me in possession of her,
then I bae brought myself into a fine scrape^ How
terrible a thought this is I Let me see ; is all over ?
Is this scroll signed and sealed ; and am I wholly given
up to this unknown and untried destiny ?" (Opens his
scroll with trembling agitation^ and looks over it.)
<< No, thanks to the Lord of the imi verse, I am yet a
Christian* The cross stands uncancelled, and there is
neither sign nor superscription in my blood. How did
this happen ? I had the blood drawn — the, pen filled
— and the scroll laid out. Let me consider what it
was that prevented me ? The deers ? It was, indeed,
the two comely deers. What a strange intervention
this is I Ah I these were no witches I but some good
angels, or happy fays, or guardian spii'its of the wild,
sent to snatch an abused youth from destruction.
Now, thanks be to Heaven, though poiH* and ^educed
to the last extremity, I am yet a free m^^ a^Qid in my
Maker^s hand. My resolution is .cbangf^-.*!my pro-
mise is lH*oken, and here I give this my^ic scroU to the
winds of the glen. , ,

<< Alas, alas I to what a state sin hai^ reduced me I
Now shall I be tortured by night, and persecuted by
day; changed into monstrous sbap^^ torn by.i^ts,
pricked by invisible bodkins^ my heart, racked by insuf-
ferable pangs of love, imtil I either lose.my.reaspn^ and
yield to the dreadful conditions held out to me, or aban-

156 THE 8HEPHERD*S CALENDAR.

(Ion all hope of earthly happiness, ami yield up my life.
Ob, that I were as free of sin as that day my iadier gave
me his last blessing I then might I widistand all (heir
I'harms and enchantments. But that I will neyer be.
So as I have brewed so must I drink. Hiese were his
last words to me, which I may weel rem«nber :-— < Yon
will have many enemies of yom* soul to contend with,
my son ; for your nearest relations are in compaot with
the deril ; and as they have hated and peor^ecuted me,
so will they hate and persecute you ; and it will only
be by repeating your prayers evening and morning, «Btd
keeping a conscience void of all ofience towards God
and towards man, that you can hope to escape the snares
that will be laid for you. But the good angels firom^the
presence of the Almighty wiU, perhaps, guao'd my poor
orphan boy, and protect him from the coimsels of the
wicked.'

<' Now, in the first place, I have never i»uyed at all ;
and, in the second place, I have sinned so much, that I
have long ago subjected myself to their snares, and
given myself up for lost. What will become of me ?
flight is in vain, for they can fly through the air, and fol-
low me wherever I go. And then, Barbara, — O lliat
lovely and bewitchmg creatm^ I in leaving her I would
leave life and saul behind I''

After this long and troubled soliloquy, poor Colin
hurst into tears, and wished himself a dove, or a spar-

THE WITCHES OF TRAQUAIR. 157

row-»hawk, or an eagle, to fly away and be seen no more ;
but, in etdier oase^ to have bonny Barbara for his mate.
At this imtant Bawty begun to cock up his ears, and
turn his head first to the* one side and then to the othfer ;
and, when Colin locked tip, he beheld tWo hares cow-
ering away^ from a bush behind him. There was nothing
that Colin was so fond of as a chase. He sprung up,
pursued ^e hares, and shouted to his dog. Halloo, hal-
loo I No, Bawty would not pursue them a foot, bnt
whenever he came to the place where he had seen them,
and put his nose to the ground, ran back, hanging his
tail, and uttering short barks, as he was wont to do when
attacked by witches in the night. Colin's hair rose up
on hrn iiead, for he instantly suspected that the two
hares were Robin Kirkwood and his aunt Nans, Watch-
ing his motions, and the fulfilment of his proinise to
them. Colin was bonified, and knew not what to do.
He did not try to pray, for he could not ; but he wish-
ed, in his h^irt, that his fkther s dying prayer for him
had been heard.

He rose, and hastened away in the direction contra*
ry to that the hares had taken, as tnay well be supposed ;
and as he jogged along, in melstncholy mood, he was
aware of two damsels, who approadned him slowly and
cautiously. They were clothed in white, t^th garlands
on their heads ; and, on their near approach, Colin per-
ceived that one of them was lame, and the other sup-

3$ Tn MUEFtUJU^S CALBOIAB.

p«ir*i!U htr by the boML TW tm comely hinds tkat
laa omue vpoo him «» iiidiifhrMd— m|Kiiedly, and
\imi pn*v«*acv«i himi^ ac cfae v«rT dccinw moment, ^om
itftlioic hi» "tahnitiua iw* seoMml taj^fTBomiXy instuidy
^•«ine ^>v«r Ctiaa*'» Mmwktaed racollKtioiv Hid he «k
^((rtack with iii«iiM«.Til]iih««» &w«. Bavty was afiiBCted
^MOwwiMB in die «bm^ ■Hoocr widk he ■mslKw The
ibmniT be nnntike^oed wa> dtfiecmtl from that mapued
W thtf aciaorks or' vicirhw imi wvWcks; he crept ckfle
:m the ccvoDii.. ami nonoic Ua iKo half away from the
naJiaac »i^cte». anecv^i a mci af attied mwnaor, as if
aMvvd boch W ifupifirt «ai iear. Colm pcgceifed» from
«Kf!» tnjyiibltf !»ympciNiu^ that die heiaga with wham
be anas^ innr omhbm: i& cmtact were aot the aolyects of
the P^wer ef D^ckaMw

He thtfce(vce threw hi» plani over he ahookier in the
inae^htfphen^-style.. toek hi» stalf helow h» Mi ana, 80
thait hi» n|chc haaii ausht heat Ghtiti to lilt hk honnet

Kcoated hian^aadrBot choosing
theaa^hepoKcdat a reapectfal
in thnr patk It^'hen they came with-
in a Ww |aKe» of hias» diey taanred cendy from the path»
M' k to psBo Ima on the kit snfe. hot all the while kept
their W^lAit eieo fixed on hias» and nhatpeied toench
athar^ CoKn was §mred that ao mnch comelinesB
jhooM (OBo hr withont sahrtiay hiaiy and kept his re-
yretfid eyw itingy on Acaa, At length they paned»

THE WITCHES OF TRAQUAIR. 159

and one of them called, in a sweet but solemn voice,
<< Ah, Colin Hyslop, Colin Hyalop ! you are on the
braid way for destruction."

" How do ye ken that, madam ?" returned Colin.
"Do you ca' the road up the Kirk Rigg the braid way
to destruction?"

" Ay, up the rigg or down the rigg, cross the rigg or
round the rigg, all is the same for you, Colin. You are
a lost man ; and it is a great pity. One single step far-
ther on the path you are now treading, and all is over."
<' What wad ye hae me to do, sweet madam ? Wad
ye hae me to stand still and starve here on the crown
o' the Kirk Rigg?"

" Better starve in a dungeon than take the steps you
are about to take. You were at a witch and warlock
meeting yestreen."

~ " It looks like as gin you had been there too, madam,
that you ken sae weeL"

'< Yes, I toas there^ but imder concealment, and not
for the purpose of making any such vows and promises
as you made. O wretched Colin Hyslop, what is to
become of you I"

" I did naething, madam, but what I couldna help ;
and my heart is sair for it the day."

<< Can you lay your hand on that heart and say so ?"
" Yes, I can, dear madam, and swear to it too."
<< Then follow us down to this little green knowe,

IHtf

TSXk afenr hrv liw^ mik ■■ b^ vccOTMiea uwm-

*«*lOB!^BflB^ ^^& Jm^^^ M^KW v^H* ^^^HHHHB^r ^^V ^V ^^BK^B vv^HB SBIH9 ^^^"^*J M^^

aK&HT «i» & SBRfir aAevnn «€ fk» RdbrnKn, vida
«iMiL ClncBBL : \mti po«r Ca£fli ns bom at TMri-

wi Pfiii Md ■IhIm.b; sod the
W Ifti. a MlRMl MBt, WW 1^ lad-
aiy w^fc^^f AriijLfci»MfcitA» Ccawqiiently, Colin

to miqvlf, VBtil dl tiie

iil^w>t— i»ifti» ns arroMplBfeML !■§ wicked mt
iwr>miiiii lags, jadgiiy Imi ftgly gMwJ, mm!
^ frie «f ndMip6«L Im^sd to erariK cflh
tnp«w tli^ B4Wt coMical, «zhL st the same time, the wtet
nit dl m tiaiiu, i> hw expeiMe ; fd 1 1cBgthyimbe-
•anvad of evci j eai thlr eujo^ Hioily he engi^ed to
thMT heUnk caannuaitT, only aa^ing tiiree dliys
ti^amdy their mi trteiies, before he shoald bleed himarif,
aii4 with the blood extracted from his Tens, extingii]^

THS WITCHES OF TRAQUAIB. 161

the sign of tlie cross, aad -tiliereby roioimce his hope in
mercy, and likewise make «oine hieroglyphics of
strange shapes and mysterious efficacy, and finally sub-
scribe his-naiheto the whole*

Whendie rektion was finished, one of the lovely
auditore said,— *" You are a wicked and abandoned
persoQt Colin Hyslop. But you weir^ reared up in
iniquity^ and know no better ; and the mercy of Heaven
is most readily extended to such. You haye, besides,
some good points in your character still ; for you have
told us the truth, however much to your own disad-
vanto^*".:

'< Aha, madam I How do you ken sae weel that 1
hae.been telling you a' the truth ?"

'< 1 know all concerning you better than you do
yourself. . There is little, very little, of a redeeming
nature in your own history; but you had an i^right
and deyout father, and the seed of the just may not
perish for ever. I have been young, and now am old,
yet have I never seen the good man forsaken, nor his
children east out as vagabonds in the land of their fa-
thers."

'< Ah, na, na, madam I ye canna be aold. It is im-
possible I But goodness kens ! there are sad change-
lings now-a-days. 1 have seen an auld wrinkled wife
blooming o'emight like a cherub."

<< Colin, you are a fool I And folly in youth leads to

162 THE shepherd's CAI£NDAR.

miseqr in old age. But I am your fnend, and you
have not another on earth this night hut iB3r8^f and my
sister here, and one more. Pray, will you keep this
little vial, and drink it for my sake ?**

<< Will it no change me, madam ?*'

" Yes, it will."

<< Then 1 thank yon ; but will have nothing to do
with it. 1 have had enow of these kind o' drinks in
my life."

<< But suppose it change you for the better ? Suppose
it change you to a new creature ?"

<< Weel, suppose it should, what will that creature
be ? Tell me that first. Will it no be a fox, nor a
gainder, nor a bearded gait, nor — n<H* — a three-legged
stool, which is no a creature ava ?"

<< Ah, Colin, Colin I" exclaimed she, smiling through
tears, " your own wickedness and unbelief gave the
agents of perdition power over you. It is that power
which. 1 wish to cotmteract. But 1 will tell you no-
thing more. If you will not take this little via^ and
drink it, for my sake, — why, then, let it alone, and fol^
low your own course."

<< O dear madam I ye ken little thing about me. 1
was only jokiug wi' you, for the sake o' hearing your
sweet answers. For were that bit glass fn' o' lank
poison, and were it to turn me intil a taed w a wonn,
I wad drink it aff at your behest. I hae been aae lit-

THE WITCHES OF TRAQUAIR. 163

tie accustomed to hear aught serious or friendly, that
my yery heai't clings to you as it wad do to an angel
coming down frae heaven to save me. Ay, and ye
said something kind and respectfu ahout my auld fa-
ther too. That's what I kae heen as little used to.
Ah, but he was a douce man I Wasna he, mem ? —
Drink that bit bottle o' liquor for your sake ! Od, I
wish it were fu to the brim, and that's no wha;t it is
by twa-thirds."

" Ay, but it has this property, Colin, that drinking
will never exhaust it ; and the langer you drink it, the
sweeter it will become."

" Say you sae ? Then here's till ye. We'll see whe^
ther drinking winna exhaust it or no."

Colin set the vial to his lips, with intent of draining
it ; but the first portion that he swallowed made him
change his countenance, and shudder from head to
heel.

<^ Ah I sweeter did you say, madam ? by the faith
of my heart, it has muckle need ; for siccan a potion
for bitterness never entered the mouth of mortal man.
Oh, I am ruined, poisoned, and undone !"

With that poor Colin drew his plaid over his head,
fell flat on his face, and wept bitterly, while his two
comely visitants withdrew, smiling at the -success of
their mission. As they went down by the side of the
Feathei^ Wood,^ the one said to the Qther,^ << Did you

164 THE SHEPHERD^S CALENDAR.

not percdve two of that infatuated commimity haunt-
ing this poor hapless youth to destmctioii. ? Liet us go
and hear their schemes, that we may the better coun-
teract them/'

They skimmed oyer the lea fields, and, in a thicket
of brambles, briers, and nettles, they found-Maot two
hares, but the identical Rob Kirkwood, the warlock,
and Colin's aunt Nans, in close and imholy cox^sulta-
tiou. This bush has often been pointed out to me as
the scene of that memorable meeting. It perhaps still
remains at the side of a little hollow, nigh to the east
comer of the Feathen arable fields ; and the spots oc-
cupied by the witch and warlock, without a green
shrub on them, are still as visible as on the -day they
left them. The two sisters, having chosen a disguise
that, like Jack the Giant-Killer's coat of darkness,
completely concealed them, heard the following dia-
logue, from beginning to end.

<< Kimmer, I trow the prize is won. I saw his arm
bared ; the red blood streaming ; the scroll in the one
hand, and the pen in the other.''

" He's ours I he's ours I"

" He's nae mair yours."

" We'll ower the kirkstyle, and away wi' him I"

'* I liked not the appearance of yon two pale hinds
at such a moment. I wish the fruit of all our pains
be not stolen from us when ready for our lord and

THB WITGH£S OF TRAQUAIR. 165

master's board. How he will storm and misuse us if
this has befallen V*

<< What of the two hinds ? WhiLt of them, I say ?
I like to see blood. It is a beautiful thing* blood."

^< Thou art as gross bb flesh a^d blood itself, and
hast nothing in thee of the true sublimity of a super-
natikral being. I love to scale the thundercloud ; to
ride on the topmost billow of the storm ; to roost by
the cataract, or croon the anthem of hell at the gate
of heaven. But thou delightest to see Uood, — ^rank,
reeking, and baleful Christiwi blood. What pleasure
is in that, dotard?''

<^ Humph I I like to see Christian blood, howBom-
eyer« It bodes luck, kimmer-^it bodes luck."

<< It bodes that thou art a mere block, Rob Kirk-
wood ! but it is needless to upbrsdd thee, senseless
as ihou art. Listen then to me : — It has been om*
master s charge to us these seven years to gaott that
goodly stripling, my nephew ; and you know that you
and I engaged to accomplish it ; if we break that en-
gagement, woe unto us ! Our master bore a grudge
at his father ; but he particularly desires the son, be-
cause he knows that, could we gain him, all the pretty
girls of the parish woidd flock to our standard; — But,
Robin Kiricwood, I say, Robin Kirkwood; what two
white birds are these always hopping around 'tis ? I
dinna like their looks imco weel. See, the one of

166 TBK SBSrHEBD*8 CAlXKDAiU

theM b luDe loo ; aBd fktj Men to have a language
id their owa to one aoolher. Let as leate this places
Robin ; bv heart w qaakiBg like aa ai^>eB.'*

^ Let then hip oa. Whit ill cm wee bits o' bindk^
do till ai? CaaM» let ai try soaie o' yon cantrips ^nir
anster levned as. Gruid sport ytm. Nans I**

^ Rohin, did act yon see that the Inrds hopped tisee
UBies roaad as ! I im ifraid we are dunned to^he

** Nerer mind, anld fool ! It's a very good spot^
Some id oar cantrips ! some of oar cantrips I**

What caatrips they performed is not known ; hut,
on that day fortnight, the two were found still sitting
in the middle of the hash, the two most miserable and
diagastiag figaies that ever shocked hnmanity. Their
cronies came with a hnrdle to take them home ; bat
Nans expired by the way, uttering wild gibberish and*
hlasi^iemy, and Rob Kirkwood died soon afto- he got
home. The last words he nttered were, *^ Plenty o'
Christian blood soon ! It will be running in streams !
-^in streams ! — in streams !"

We nowretam to Colin, who, freed of his two great-
est adversaries, now spent his time in a state bordering
on lu^piness, compared with the life he had formerly
led. He wept nrach, staid on the hill by himself, and
pondered deeply on something — ^nobody knew what,
and it was believed he did not know weU himself. He

T*fiB WITCHES OF TBAQUAUt. 167

Was in love— -over head and ears in, love ; which may
account for .any thing in man, however ridiculous. Hei
waa in love with Barbara Stewart, an angel in loveli*
ness as well as vii'tue ; but she had hitherto shunned
a young man so dissolute and unfortunate in his con-
nexions. To her rejection of his stdt were attributed
Colin's melancholy and retirement from society ; imd
it might be partly the cause, but there were other mat-
ters that troubled his inmost soul.

Ever since he had been visited by the two mysteri-
ous dames, he had kept the vial close in his bosom,
and had drunk of the bitter potion again and again.
He felt a change within him, a certain renovation of
his nature, and a new train of thoughts, to which he
was an utter stranger ; yet he cherished them, tasting
oftener and oftener his vial of bitterness, and always,
as he drank, the liquor increased in quantity. •

While in this half-resigned, half-desponding state,
he ventured once more to visit Barbara* He bought
to himself that he would go and see hei, if but to take
farewell of her ; for he resolved not to harass so dear
a creature with a suit which was displeasing to her.
But, to his utter surprise, Barbara received him kind-
ly. His humbled look made a deep impression on
her ; and, on taking leave, he found that she had treat-
ed him withr as much favour as any virtuous maiden
could display.

168 TUE shepherd's calbndaju

He therefore went home rather too much i^lifted
in spirit, which his old adversariesy the witches, p^-
ceived, and having laid all their snares open to entnp
him> they in part prevailed, and he returned, in the mo-
ment of temptation, to his old courses. The day af-
ter, as he went out to the hill, he whistled and soag,
—for he durst not think, — till, behold, at m distance,
he saw his two lovely monitors approaching. He wsb
confounded and afraid, for he found his heart was not
right for the encounter ; so he ran away with all his
might, and hid himself in the Feathen Wood.

As soon as he was alone, he took the vial from his
bosom, and, wondering, beheld that the bitter liquid
was dried up all to a few drops, although the glass
was nearly full when he last deposited it in his boscMD.
He set it eagerly to his lips, lest the last renmant
shoidd have escaped him ; but never was it so bitter
as now ; his very heart and spirit failed him, and, trem-
bling, he lay down and wept. He tried again to draxQ
out the dregs of his cup of bitterness ; but still, as be
drank, it increased in quantity, and became more and
more palatable; and he now continued the task so
eagerly, that in a few days it was once more nearly
fulL

The two lovely strangers coming now often in his
mind, he regretted running from them, and longed to
see them again. So, going out, he sat down within

6

THE WrrCUES OF TRAQUAIR« 169

the fairy ring, on the top of the Feathen Hill, with a
8<Mrt of presentiment that they would appear to him.
Accordingly, it was not long till they made their ap*
pearance, hnt slill at a distance, as if travelling along
the kirk-road. CoHn, perceiving that they were go«
ing to pass, without looking his way, thought it his
duty to wait on them. He hasted across the moor,
and met them ; nor did they now shun him. ^e one
that was lame now addressed him, while she who had
formerly accosted him, and presented him with the
vial, looked shy, and kept a marked distance, which
Colin was exceedingly sorry for, as he loved her hest.
The other examined him sharply concerning all his
transactions since they last met» He acknowledged
every thing candidly — the great folly of which he had
been guilty, and likewise the great terror he was in of
being changed into some horrible bestial creature, by
the bitter drug they had given him. <^ For d'ye ken^
madam," said he, << I fand the change beginning with-
in, at the very core o' the heart, and spreading aye
outward and outward, and I lookit aye every minute
when my hands and my feet wad change into dutes ;
for I expeckit nae less than to have another turn o' the
gait, or some waur thing, kenning how weel I deserved
it. And when I saw that I keepit my right propor-
tions, I grat for my ain wickedness, that had before
subjected me to such unhallowed influence." ■

VOL. II. K

1 70 THB shepherd's CALENDAR^

The two sisters now looked to each other, and a
beirenly beneyolenoe shone through the amiles with
which that look was acoMnpanied. The lame oae
said, '< Did I not say, sister, that there waa aeme hope?"
She then asked a sight of his Tial, which he took from
his bosom, and put into hear hands ; and when she had
viewed it carefolly, she returned it, without asy in-
junction ; hut taking from her own bosom a. medal <^
pure gold, which seemed to baTsbeen dipped in blood,
she fastened it round his neck with a chain el steel.
<f As long as you keep that vial, and use it/' said she^
<<the other will never he taken from you« jari/witb
^ese two you may defy all the Powem ^ QafJmcAS."

As soon- as Colin was alone, he surveyed hispuiple
medal "mth great eamestness^hut eauld make-nothiug
of it ; there was a mystery in the diarscteiis.and figaces
which he could not in the leaie^ comprehend ; -yet he
kept all that had .happened closdy concealed 4 'and
walked softly.

' The witches bow found' that he was .^t %» their
commumtyyand,'enraged beyond measuEe^aiTbeingde*
prived of such a prize^ which they bad jnidged £urly
their- own, and of iidiicb. their master was so? desirous,
they now laid a plan ta destroy him*
• Golin w^Qft ' down to the Castle one nighjt ti^ see
Barbara Stewart, who talked toi him much of religion
and of the Bible ; but. of these thisig» Colin knew very

TBC WITCHES OF TAAQUAIIU 171

little. He eagsgedy howeyer, to go with her to the
house of pvayeff^— not the PopU^ chapeV where heJmd
once beea a most irBevecesit, auditor^ hut to tke^Be-
formed: chuireh, which theft hegan to divide the pari»h».
and the. pastor of which was a deyQut mau. . . ..>

. On toking leave of Barhaca^ and promising to. atr
tend her on the following . iSabhath, a burst, of eldrich
laughter arose elose by, and a vmce^iwith a iioacae and
giggling sound, e^^elaimed^ 'f.No.sae fasty cannyJad*-*
no eae &st.. There will maybe be a wh^ping ol-crip;*
pies afore that play be. played." . <*, ^^

• Barhaaa consigned them .both to the care of the Al-
mighty^wHh great fervency, wondering^howi thty coukl
have (been watehed and overheard in siieh.Acpkiee*
Colin' trembled from head to foot, for he >knew the
hmgh^too well to he that of Maude Stotty 'the leadings
witch of the Traquair gang, now that his aunt /was to-
moved... He had no:Booaer;oros0ed the Auair, than>iat
the junction of a little streamlet, called to tfais^'day the
Satyr Sike^ he was set upon by a cewmtless numbo* of
eats, winch aurronnded him, making the most infemal
noises, and putting themselves into themost threatens-
ing attitades. For a . good> while they did not < touch
him, but leaped around him, often as.highas hia^oat,
screaming most furiously; but at length ^hnr/faith£sil«
ed him, and he etied out in utter despair. At that mo^
ment, they aU closed upon him, some round his neck,

172 THE gHSPH£RD*8 CAhEtfDAVL

aome round hii legs* and soBie •Bdearanring ta>te8r
out his heart and howels. At length €B(ib -of tpro/fkt
cadQ» ia contact wnth tfa» laadak/iatifaia^^ bo6D9i,4ed
vwmy^ iiowling moat Hearfollj^r and did m^t letnro,,. JSjtill
he vm» ki> gfeat jaopardy of Wingk inatautlj %vmft0
pieces'; i ^on wbi^^h ha flung hiMBelf 4at 0|i -hisi i^MlSriD
the onidstvof !■& ^kevonringcnflttiieat and iai^dL^ ai sar
crod ^nawn.y j 'That iBDmcnt he felt |MurttaLji«^e^ as if
soma Jane wmre ^ving them ^ ^oaai hy one^^^Mwi^^
raising' fab haad^ he heheld his kyreljr lane -Tiaitw(^)of
the^ mountains^' drHring diese infernals ^ wiib. ja^^vjbjj^
wakid> iiiid< mockiiig their thfeaftening lo6ka aadtinii^at-
tetnpts^llo'fatiinii « Off with ymi^ifioari ipjilmaled
wretda8!V>: cried, she: <« Minions • of perd^lwip^ fllito
yantf ^abodes of miaery and da8pair!v«^jy9i«r» jf^mnh
yoiw^boastad whii^ping of cripples ? S«»i if ^Mie poor
cripple cannot whip yanaUr <•.; tiMtiHii >>'fiiitd^4i
tt^By^^thiattimA ihe mansters^had'aU .laliAaitIi^r.^H!^ty
8«feu>ne,i4hat had iastenedits AalQAajMi«X3<i4Jll<9 W^
•^idej^andjiwaa making a last'^andydaspfsaita^dafl^H^ftto
vieilchv; hi»i|ritafe>^:hut >he^. bein^.iwiirtfftead if^m^ill^
mt, l»i«>tt>«a<Uow witbtSadi gQaid-^i«aiil^i'9»i!^adl^it
dpeadilyLidciBiat^ ^and ifly > itanibfaigiittdLtnairipgv^dwn
'tiw^favaai^'> tHe» shKewdlyrtgiiessedi itdi»i|hiar ipiWliKWto
aaaaila&t^<waa; «'^^'vras'die>vau8tBke»p tolneigfT^By
l!t|«ade<'Stott'waA<iyingipowerks»<o«./a(^^WU) 9^ >
broken limb^ and seyeral of her cronies were in great

THB WITCHES, OF TIIAQUAIR« 173

torment, hftving* beea Btrnek' by the white rod of the
Jjtudy <i€ the Mow^ ' ■' - •-"« • » », -.j.,.} -u'

But the great M«itev> Fknd^ Beeingtinow thai ias
^mlssaries^ were'.all baffled aiid elxtdoii^ wtat* €nniged
beyotid bounds, and set himself with itdl his wk^ and
wi^ all' his power, So ii«reicenged<OB poor luolin^ As
to his p^)wer, no one^sputed it; ImttMs witiand in-
geimity always a{>pear' to miata bfttery leqiBiToeal*
He'4ried'to assauh CoMn-s hmiible:dweUing that same
nighty tn svq^ teriifio 8hiq)es ;' but maaif eli tba vil-
lagefrsperceired a slender form, clothed-iil' white, that
kepl^ikteh at his door until the moisaini;. twilight*^ The
next day> he haunted him on the hill ia thetiormiOf a
great i^iaggy bloodhound, infected with.madaaaa) ^ut
finding his utter inalnlity to toudi him, iiO'iitlered a
howl that made all the hills quake^ and, likoa.flash of
lightning, darted into Glendean Banks. /• 'in. >> ;^ <

Hen^t set hims<^l£to piaewre Celin/a 'punishment
by ollM$r weans^' namely, by the hands rof. Christian
men, 'idio miiy way now left lor hkn« He accordingly
engaged his emissaries to inform aggiaat him to holy
MotherChurch, as a warloekandneeromanoen The
Crown- and 'the Churck had at that timo joined in ap-
pointing judges o£ these difficult and int^resling ques-*
tionsii Hie quorum amounted to seren^ oonsisting of
the King's Adrocate, and an equal number of priests
and laymen, all of them in opposition to the principles

174 tHfi SHEPHSRD*8 CAIjENBAK;

of die Refoittation, whidi wts ct that time obn<xKlotti'at
court, Colin was seized, arraignecl, and lodged in prison
$i Pedbles ; and never was there anch elamoiir and dis-
eotttenC in Strsthqnair. ' The yowng womM wept^ «id
tore thw hair, fior the goodliest lad in this valley ^^iflnr
mothma scolded ; and the old men acmtched their grey
iMills, bit their lipa, and remained ^eae^nt, b«t were
1^ loCigth compelled to jein the oomhinatioii^

Colhi's trial came on; and his aecaaem being tom-
mdned as witnesses againft him, it msljr Wisll be eup-
posed'how little chance he had of eseapfaigy eapectally
as the noted David Beatomi sat that day as jndge, a
severe and bigoted Pafiist. There were many tlni^
proven against poor CoUn, — as much as 'would have
been at one time sufficient to bring d> tbeyoMfa of
IVaqoair to the stake.

For instiince, three sportsmen swere, tlbait they had
flftarted a; large he-fbx in the Feathta Wo»d^atidj^alter
pnfsnSpg Um all the way to* GleniMli-hdptf,^^^ iMRlefl
and hounds, <ri ccH&iog up, they found C^lhi Hyslop
lying pantmg in the midst of the hoitttdiy'laid^carMbg
and endeavouring to pacify them. It wais fturtor de*
poned; that he had been dlsedvered iii llie Mh^»e of a
huge gander iritting on e^' ; and in thel^iapcNif Bibee-
legged stool, which, on being tossed ab^iut'tbd 4>ver-
tumed, as three->legged stools are apt tdbe, hadgfoan-

'I^ii£ WITCHES OF traquaia: 175

ed^and giv^i^ther symptoms of animation, bf which
its identity with Colin Hyslop was discoyered*

But when they camQ to the story of ,« Jie^oat,
whidi'had proceeded to attend the service in the
^mpel of St Jehsi the Evaiigelist, and wjuch said he-
f>eat proved to be the imhappy delinquent^ Beotom
growled with rage and indignation^ and said, thal^i^ndl
a dog deserved to suffer death by a thousanf^^(»rtiare0>
and to be excluded from the power of xt^ientance by
1^ instant infliction of th6m« The most of the judges
were not, however, satisfied of the authentidliy of 1^
monstrous story, and insisted on eaKaminmg.a.great
number of witnesses, both young and old> ipany of
whom happened to be quite unconnected with the
honrid community of the Traquair witches* . Among
the rest, a girl, named Tibby Frater, was •examined
about that, as well as the three-legged sUxd ; and her
examination -may here be copied- verbatim* The
querist, who wafr a cunni;Dg man, began as foUipws : —
'< Were you in St Jdho^s Chapel, Icfabe)i on the Sun-
day after Easter ?"
^^Yes.*'

^ Did you there see a man changed into i^ Jie<^at ?"
^< I saw a gait in the chapel that day."
*^ Did he, as has been declared, seem indent on dis*
turbing divine worship ?*'

176 TBE tHttBCRD's CALW0AB.

coidd fM OKpeet of ft gAit?"

^ PliMlB t» d— cribe^irliit yoreiiw*^- ''

*<0O| he was jiistrampaiigiis^^«bottty tf(tf''Aigiiig
Mkmrar. Tkedeik^Mtilie flftc]»t»li4tt& tbit^^
laiiit Imtlie^toMi kkL4haii Mth )iroeka(le.'' Mm JUm
imiyid igwisl Mm, in La^ thty aid» aad trfed to
Isy Jia% a* if he^hadlbeai a cleil ; tal he lieyer bMh
ihat^ and jvsl nnnpit mi.'* '

^IMdlie^^er^ome near «r moleet yov in die ietai«
pejr: .

"$ Ay, he did llttt."

M What did he do to you ?•— describe it idl.*'

«f Oo, he didna do that miicUe ill, titer a: ; hut if il
wittiflh^ poor yomig man that was changed, 1*11 war*
rant hehad aae hand in it, far deariy he paid the kuBt
Ere long there were fifty staves raised against lim, and
he was beat^i till there was hardly life left in* him,*'

<< And what were the people*s reasons tot liefieving
that this he-goat and the prisoner were the ^gitie ?^

** He was found a* wounded and hmised tbb next
day. But, in truth, I beUere he nerer denied these
changes wrought on him, to his inthnate Mgnds '; hut
we a' ken wed wh»iit was that effected them. Od
help you ! ye little ken how we are plaguit and ^kkras-
sed down yondei^bouts, and what scathe the country
suffers, by the emissaries o* Satan I If there be any

will discern plenty o' thefi|.]^I^il|>09^:«IQMif b^^
that bae been witji^esi^iig agyopsttlMt^ p^^^r ijtojtW tnd

sure.p^,Teog^a|k^9 asdtbej^gnaifaedJlieiriMnrii iHi(thif

Ugainst them, and execrations were ponredifT<iBiieiW^
i^qifpfiX,;^^f-f3m ^r^wded 09iiil» Gxiee j>^«*-^MEMfcj^ o*
proof o' what Tibby has said I''— « Let the saddli 1^
laid on the right horse I" — << Dowa m^ihe^plaf^ked^o*
the landr>,^4 nw^y siich e^laioationfl^avtete smVforth
by th^.^ood. people of Traquair* . ■■ They dorsiiiiot'itied-^
dl^ jjritli|th^ i^i^j?ies.^t.home, becaw^- wheo flpttfiiMif
w;ag,^o^ tiPs#^Ug^tbe«ai| the sheep? anil cattleiWMP,
s€^ig^d^.wi%.9/^w:iu^d fiigbtfnl diateonpecB, ^ OMmiffiil^
barlcg^^jf ^f p];)a]^n,;«l»d. th6.konet< pe«plallMiM!t^'
qu^^jjaa^ ^9g^i(i^ ^we»tu)g8^.aikd fresthoinrois of
mind«, ,^ ^ju^t j(^w, jbbi^ ith^y. had Akemm^oplteeftid ^ii^^
cQfi^ Qi^ji^^if^,|aidl,wese all assembled idiems^lrlte,
an(l<(^^^W^^ present,' they hoped to bring l^delki^'
qi^ts J^ ,^ $m»lmwt 9^ laAt^< . JBeadonn, hoit^Ksft*^^
sej|iped,j4)fpl]9^y^^^tL.ont;ihetdtt8trnotH!n ofCdiid;^

ii), ]$ii[f^ QA? of. j)i9 ^attiens during the periods e^Ad
metamorphoses, even although he himself had no sha^l;

h2

178 fttfe i^f^^M^RD^fl tA\]i»t^AW^

in dficUfig tbese raetailKii^plioliM ;'!ie tlMftrefeve aM^l
ft rerdlct agidnst the |»moner, as did i^ao the King's
Advocate; Sit* James Stitart of l\>Hiqptt3r; 1m^^
rose vp^d spoke widi gr^t fflOqneilbii^ lind etti^tgy m
fiiTOiif of his Yateal, and inniited on liatklg'liBf ^aecnfen
tried fki^ to hob with Um/ when, he had Bor4dAK ft
woaU be aeen on whiefa side the soraeiy had hem'^^
erdML ^^Forl^ipealtoyoairhODom^blejiidgiiw&ti^''
cotttodiied be^ **\f any man wonld transforai ^asMf
into a foky ht the sake of beikig hnnted t^ deoth^'niid
iQira'ittto ^eces by honnds ? Neitheri I diiidc/ #imld
any peiMfi ehoose to translate himself into** gander^
for the purpoae of bringing out a few wovthlesB ges*
lings I But, aboye all, I am nondly certaiiij sbat no
Hying man would tun himself into a-Aree^l^ged^tool,
for no oAer purpose but to be kicked into^hemkes^aa
the oTidenoe shows this stool to hare been^^ And as
for a rery handsome yonth turning hims^ iitirr he*
goat> in order to exhibit his prowess*in> oiattbrtivii^-tfid
beatingthe men of the whole congvegatkMs, that winild
be a supposition equally absurd. But as we have a
thousand instances of honest miefU being affected and
injured by speHs and enchantmefttS) I gfivie il n^imy
finn o]nnion^ dial dfis yotong man has been abaaed
gtierously in this manner, and ^t these liiar aeetMerB,
afraid of exposure through his agency, are drying in
this way to put him down."

THE WITCHKB OF TRAQUAIB^^ T79

Sir JaHieftVispeech.:«»$,]^i^i[ed wltb.mimii^ of
applause, throngh the .whole crowded Qpu^ :, )^t the
piiB^^^iai jodge contiBued /ohalinate^ And oiade a ^pi^ech
m reply, ; Beiog. a> man of a inost anst^e ,^teinpenu
m^iti aiid«8 bk>pdy-.mipded,|i« pjbstio^tojjt^ W^ ^^
objections to tbe 8eizipg:.,of 4be ^roiitb^^uxii^^ and
called to the offi£«ra to.gii^ia^d tbe>4oo]; if^ ^bifjl^ the
eld aftcriatan. of l^'raquair. i;eiiiai:ke4 ^a^oad^ ** 3y. my
fjEothia the hoLy Apostle Jobn, my lord goreemer^you
most. be ^^k in. yo«r. seizures ; for an ye gie.b^t the
witches V Traqnair ten minuteS) ye will hae nsething
o' thea but moorfowk and paitricka.bbtt^ngog, about
the riggiitf e' the kirk; aod..a' .the offisb^ra yei hae
will neither eatch nor keep them.^'

They, were, howeFec, smzed and incBr4;eral;e4*« f^Tbfi
triala ladted'for lluree days, at whicfatha ^no^ ynagyig
crowds atteaded^-for. tkeeridence was of. .the most
extraerdinafyttataiie ^¥er elicited^. displaying soch a
system of/diablerie^ maleFolenoey and uabcwdrof wick»
ednessy' aa never came .to li§^t.in a Cbri^^liaa.iaadA
Seren woman aiMl two men were found, guilty, and
condemned to be burnt at tbo stake ; and several ^lore
would have shared theaame fate, had the private marks,
which werethfitt thoroi^hly and perfectly known, coii*
incided with the evidence produced* This not having
been the case, they were banished out of the Scottish
dominions, any man being at liberty to shoot them, if

180

Imvib from that date.

nBv.^aif mm mem mhm attaded.dw oowte in
ilMse ^ysy catted fiffiA— m Tnmy tiiey wMmV"
isvd ta take Calm into tl» fcatry^ (llie4i«)9JiavBi9
lalrwn piaoc m. a d— ch,) aad piMwiHia biiM stn^y ^
the dbbotical maiks* They coidil find none; but in
the oouiaaafthabin(f6Htigiitkip they foimd the vial in
his boBom, as well as the Hwdal 'Aat wore the hoe of
biaod^ and which was lacked to his neck^ ae that the
handB of van covkl not remoTe it* They letmaed to
the judge, bearuig the vial in tiiunph, and aayiiig* they
hid found no private nsaik, as proof of the maatcrhe
'aerved, hut that here was an nngaenty which tihey had
BO doubt was proof soffideaty and wonld, if they judged
aiighty when aceompanied by proper incantaidonsy trans*
form a hnman being into any beast or monster iatend-
•d« It was banded to the judges who shook his head,
and acquiesced with the searchers. It was then hand-
ed around^ and Mr Wiseheart, or Wi^iart, a learned
man, deciphered these words on it, in a sacred Ian-
guage,*-^^ The Vial of Repentance."
. The juries looked at one another when they heard
these ominous words so unlooked for; and Wishart
Remarked, with a solemn assurance, that neither the
term, nor the cup of bittf mess, was likely to be in usq

among th0 slayer aS £taite%«iid/tfae >k>iiiidBa/drii^[ea
of the land of perdition, ^ '.l» t*iilr imyii >r'jj<j»f

ilM seia^to>nowl»egged theC«fiiTt tOBHi^wndil^
judgment for aflpac^, as tbet^riseiieip #«fei>fi(jdiafmi(i(
a Moody iiuey#kich was lodged to iiie ]bod^i;i4tfaiateek»
$0 tbM no hanliseoiiM loose it^'awdi whidb ^yijudgfad
of for more ominoais import than aUth^ijOthat)ti|N:aob
put together^ Colin xyas theft hroogbfe (inba Gonotionoe
more) and the^medal examined eareMly-^ andJoilnoti
the one side were engrared^ m tesafendtsfaaiBfit^^ttWO
words^ the n^eanings of whieh Wero deciidad ^Hittiiei
(^ FoigiveHeBs" above, and <<rA€oeptaiioa"iJ>^^lRir ^Qn
the otho' side was a representation of'ftheiGruaifilioli)
and these words in another language^ Crud^duM4pir4^
fidoi which words stmck the judges wifikgreKftamaJie*
ment* They forthwith ordered the bonds Ki/Jb^'teken
off the prisoner, and commanded him to ^ak for^him*
self> and'tell^ without fear and dr^ad^ liowihe cbme by
these precious and holy bequests^ ' V < .j^Hi'^vii < :

Colin, who was noted for sinoeilty.an<i>simplicity}
began and related the oireumstanoes «f*{^^'hie»'his
temptations, his follies, and his diSregiird-oC^ the
dudes of religion, wibich had auhjo^ted (hiBi>inno^ com-
mon degree to the charms and enchantments ^of hia
hellish neighbours, whose principal effiirts and energies
seemed to be aimed at bis destruction. But when fae^
oame to the vision of the fair virgins on the hill, an4

1

183 TSIt gHBPOERD's CALENDAR. "

#f their gmciotw bequetrta^ tbst bad preBerred ban
thenceforward, both from the devil in per8Qii,~aflid imk
tiM vengeance of all hia emiBsariea eombinedy ao wdl
M this suit the BtreoiiGiia efbrta theft rnddng to ob»
laki popularity for a falling system of fiatth^ that the
jvdges instantly claimed the miracle to thdr onm 9dc^
and were clamorous with approbatioii ef his madeatyy
and cravings of forgiveness for the insuitB -and- con-
tmnely which they had heaped iq>on.liHB.£avo«rite^
Heaven. Barbara Stewart was at 'this time, eitdag-ffiii
the bench close behind Colin, weqiing for joy -ftt tins
fovburable turn of afi^urs^ having, far seFeial dsya pie«
vions to that, given up all hopes of li^ lif^;«]Ma Mr
David Beatoun, pointing ta the image of dio> Ho^ Vir^
gfai, asked if the fair dame who btetewed* .these rkm^
luable and heavenly relics bore ^ any resemblance- 4o
that divine figure. Colin, with his accustomed hkmt
henesty, was just about to answer in the negatife,
when Barbara exclaimed in a whisper briiiad him,
\rA\k\ howliker

^< How do you ken, dearest Barbara ?" said b0,4Mft-
ly^ over his shoulder.

- ^ Because I saw her watching your door onoe when
aiimunded by fiends — Ah! how like T

**< Ah, how like !" exclaimed Colin, by way of re-
sponse to one whose opinion was to him . as a thing
sapped) and not to be disputed. How much hung on

TtoJ WITCHES OF TRAQUAHl* 183

ttiat momeiit I A denuil might perhaps hat^ fltSl 4ti^:
jected him to ohioquy, honds, and death, hat aii asxi<^'
ens maidte's ready expedient saved him ; acnd now it
was with difficulty that Mr Wishart could prevent the
Gotholit; part 6f the throng from falling down and wor-
shif^ing him^ whom they had so lately reviled imd ac-
cused of the hlaekest crimes. ■ ' •

Times were 'now altered with Colin Hyslop. David

Beatouii^tookliim to Edinhmrgh in his diariot, and pre^

sented him to the Queen Regent, who put a ring on

his right' -handi a chain of gold ahout his neck^ and

loaded him with her bounty. All the Catholic nobles

of the'j^onrt presiented him with valuable gifts, and

then he ^ «i<»ed to make the t<mr of idl tbe ric&

ahheys of Fifb and the Border ; so diat, without' evef

having one more question asked him ahout bis tenets,'

he retnnied home the richest man of all Traquair, even

richer, as men supposed, than Sir James Stuart him*

self* He married Barbara Stewart, and purchased the

Flora from the female heirs of Alexlmder Murray,

where he built a mansion, planted a vineyard, and lived

in retirement and happiness till the day of his death.

I have thus recorded the leading events of this tale,
although many of the incidents, as handed down by
tradition, are of so heinous a nature as not to bear re*
eital. It has always appeared to me to have been
moulded on the bones of some ancient retigious alle*

1B4 THl 8HEPHBBD*6 CALENDAR*

gory, and by being that trvudanaed into A nvrserf
tide, rendered unintelligible* It would be in Tain now
to endeayonr to restore its original stmctrve, in the
tame way as Mr Blore can delineate an ancient abbey
firom the smallest remnant ; but I should like exceed-
ingly to understand properly what was represented by
the two lovely and mysterions' sistel^ one of whom
was lame. It is most pcoliable that "they were sup-
posed apparitions of renowned female saints ; or per-
haps Faith and Charity, Thisi however, is maiufef t,
that it is a Reformer's tale, fomided on a Catholic alk^

rt.-.-* i' • > • ' ■. ' •^-

Of the witches of Traquair there are many^pthj^
traditions extant, as well as many anthent^ re^;ci|i^.t
and 80 far the talQ accords witli th^; hisjloiy ^qf^^l^
times. .Tliat they were tried and suffered tbexre^^
doubt ; and the Devil lost all his popujiarity i^.^^I{9|i^
district ever after, being despised by bis friends for^jj^
shallow and rash politics^ and booted, ^and ^f^d^pp.^
ridicule by his enemies. I still maintam>, that.tlien
has been no great personage sii^ce;d(e wft^fd.'Vf:^^ ji^^
med, so apt to commit a manifest blund^r^^md tp.OTei:-^
shoot his mark* as he is.

'I*V't fjii ,»■-♦".' *■ «• • '■■'■ • • '»5'- ,''■'»''*/ "ff*. r"!^Vt

-.ji.l.nl w.'O.'^' v«.^ • '. •••.'••' * '"'i. ■* *»> .5. -T 'iM.'. iTfO '

•.•.£,.{ ■ X •;■.-. i^ ■. ■. . .. ■ .■».;»•. ♦' .>iJ .1 'n b'jlfV

mtKP. *^ 185

CHAPTER V.

The sheep has scarcely any marked character, save
that of liatoral affection, of wluch it possesses a very
great share. It is otherwise a stupid, indifferent ani*
mal, hatui^ few wants, and fewer expedients. The
old hlack-Eoced, or Forest hreed, have far more power-
ful capabilities than any of the finer breeds that have
been introduced into Scotland ; and therefore the few
anecdotes that I have to relate, shall be confined to
them.

So strong is the attachment of sheep to the place
where they have been bred, that I have heard of their
returning from Yorkshire to the Highlands^ I was al»
ways somewhat inclined to suspect that they might
have been lost by the way. But it is certain, how*
ever, that when once one, or a few sheep, get away
from the rest of their acquaintances, they return home-
ward with great eagerness and perseverance. I hare
lived beside a drore-road the better part of my life.

186 THE SHEPIiBIII>*8 CALENDAR.

and many stragglers have I seen bending their steps
northward in the spring of the year. A sh^herd rarely
sees these joumeyers twice ; if he sees them, and stops
them in the morning, they are gone long before night;
and if he sees them at night, they will be gone many
miles before morning. This Strang, attaehmcsnt to the
place of their nativity, is much more predominant in
onr old aboriginal breed, than in any of the other kinds
with which I am acquainted.

. The most aingnlw instance that I knpw o£, to be
^te jirell aothenticated, is that of a Uad^ «w«^ that
retained with her lamb from a £urm in the betd oi
Glen-LyoBy to the. farm of Hareh^pe^ in Tweeddale,
and.acyompliihed the journey in nine days.. . She was
soon miflsed \^ her owner, and a s^pherd /waa>^
patched in pursuitof her, who followed her all 'Uieway
to Cxiei^ where he tumed,^ and gave lies iqit. . > He^
intelligence of her all the way, and every one tiU«him
tfaat.i^ i^elntely persisted-m^ trav^lkig'-on-^-She
woidd-not hetvned, regarding^netthep ehe^'nopvhep'
herd^hy 4ho^ way. Her lamb was • often £bp bdhmd, md
she had coiiBlaiitly tO' urge it on, by impirtieii*^ bleat-
ing. • She 'Unluckily came to Stilling on^thevienihig
of a great iuraual fair, about the end of May,'aifdj«d*
ging it imprudent to venture through the crowd ^with
h^ l«nb, she baked on the north side of thetown^the
vwhol^ day> wh^e she waaseen by hundreds, lying-elose

SHEEP. 187

by the road-side. But next morning, when all became
quiet, a little after the break of day, she was observed
-stealing quietly through the town, in apparent terror
of the dogs that were prowling about the- street* The
last- time she was seen on theroad^ was at a toll-bar
near St Ninian's ; l^e man stopped her, thmking she
was a «trayed animal, and that some one would claim
her. She tried several times to break through by force
when he opened the gate, but he always prevented her,
and at loigth she turned patiently back. She had
found some means of eluding him, however^ for home
-she came on a Sabbath monung^ the 4ith of June; and
she left' the farm of Lodis, in-Glen-Lyon, either oni;he
Tfamday afternoon, or Friday momiBg, a week and
two days before-. The fiurmer ofHarehope paid th^
Highland fisrmer ihe price of her, and she' r^maified oh
her^ native' farm tall she died of old agO) in her -seven-
teentii year.

^' There is another peculiarity in the Baliiire"Of slraep,
of wUchlhave witnessed iBBumeraUe^xamides^;- But
'fls they are all idike> and show how much the sheep i6
«>toreatare of habit, I shall only' relate one :
' A sh^herd in Blackhouse bought a few sheep from
^another hi 'Crawmel, about ten miles distant. In ^he
vprisg fi^wing, one of the ewe» went back to her
native place, and yeaned on a wild hill, called Crawmel
Craig; One day, about the beginning of July follow-

188 THE SH£PU£BD*S CALENDAR.

vagf the shepherd went and brought home lus €we and
bunb' ^took the fleece firom the .ewe, aod h^^^Um iaonb
for one of his stock. The lamb. lived andi^lhc^iirify Jbe-
came a hog and a gmuner, /and never QiKaied«<to J^ave
home ; bat when three yearsof age, and about, to have
her first lamb, she vanished ; and the .nMnraiQig^ i^fler,
the Crawmel shepherd, in going his rounds, fpimd her
vvith a new-yeaned lamb on the very gair pf tliei Craw-
mel Craig, where she wa# lambed herpelf. She re*
mained there till the first week^of July, the time when
she was brought a lamb herself, and then sbp came
home with hers of her own accord; and this, custom
she continued annually with the greatest, puni^tuality
as long as she lived* At length her lambs>, whcoi they
came of age, began the same practice, and the sh^herd
was obliged to di^ose of the whole, breeds.

With regard to the natural affection lof thbianinuil,
stupid and actionless as it is, the instances^.tbat nii^
be mentioned are without number. When mm loses
its sight in a flock of short sheep> it is iwrftly abpndonp
ed to itself in that hapless and helpleesrjstate.. Som^
one always attaches itself to it, and by bleating calls
it back from the precipice, the lake, the po^pjl, and all
dangers whatever. There is a disease among sheep,
called by shepherds the Breakshugh, a deadly 8(M*t of
dysentery, which \a as infectious as fire, in a flock.
Whenever a sheep feels itself seized by this, it inst^t*

9H£EP. 189

ly witbdrsnUB from ail the rest, siiiimuBg tbeir society
wiik the gv^afest'care; it even hides itself^ aadis often
very ha^ to he foimd* Though this propeiusity^caa
hardly 'b^ attlibiited' to natural instmot^it as^at tall
events, a prtmsi<m of nature' of the greatest kirnkwes
andh^tefioenee, iw .«

Anotha: mMufest < provision of nature ^vith> vegaitUlo
these toimals, is^^ that the more inboi^kable the kn4
is on which they feed, the greater- thek kindness and
attention' to ^^r young*^ I once herded tvn years oa
a wikl aiid hare form called Willenslee^uon ihe^horder
of Mid^Lothian, and of all the sheep I ever sasf^ these
W€s^d)fe kindest and most affectionate to their young«
I W^ €»ften deeply affected at iscenes whiob I wstnessf
edr^'IWW had'one veryhard winter, so that^mrebe^
grew lean in the springy and the thwartep-iU^^eort of
parstytie MAffeetion) came among^ them, and .oarided
offrlkimtanber. Often have I seen these poovivictims
when foHen down to lise^nomore, even ^hea unable
to lif^Md«$fr heads from, the ground^ holdmg up ^ legp
te^%rvite t^ staar^Hpg lamb to tM misendble. pittance
thftfr'the udd^roitifi eould supply, r I had never seen
anght^^nete pak^ully^'affectingw > j ^ - < t ; ^ < ) u v .is
i it^Bs w^ known that it is a cnston^widiidiepherdsi
wh^-a Imnly dies, if the mother faaTi^ ai-siifficiency
of Milk, to brmg her< from thejthUl, and put anothi^
l(i$|^ to her. This is done by^patting the^kin of the

190 THE shepherd's CALENDAR.

dead lamb upon the liTing^ one ; the ewe immediately
acknowledges the relationship, and after the skin has
wanned on it, so as to give it something of the smell
of her own progeny, and it has sucked her two or thr^
times, she accepts and nourishes it as her own erer
after. Whether it is from joy at this apparent reani-
mation of her yoimg one, or because a little doubt re-
mains on her mind which she would fain dispel, I can-
not decide ; but, for a number of days, she shows far
more fondness, by bleating, and caressing, over this
one, than she did formerly over the one that was real-
ly her own.

But this is not what I wanted to explain ; it was,
that such sheep as thus lose their lambs, must be dri-
ven to a house with dogs, so that the lamb may be
. put to them ; for they will only take it in a dark con-
fined place. But at Willenslee, I never needed to
drive home a sheep by force, with dogs, or in any other
way than the following : I found every ewe, of course,
standing hanging her head over her dead lamb, and
having a piece of twine with me for the purpose, I tied
that to the Iambus neck, or foot,^ and trailing it along,
the ewe followed me into any house or fold that I
chose to lead her. Any of them would have followed
liie in that way for miles, with her nose close on the
lamb, which she never quitted for a moment, except
to chase my dog» whict she would not suffer to waHc

SH£EP. 191

near me. . I .often, out of curiosity, led them in to the
side of the kitchen fire hy thid means, into the midst
ef serviants and dogs.; but the more that dangers mul"
tiplied around the ewe, she clung the closer to her
dead offspring, and thought of nothing whatever but
protecting it.

One of the two yell's while I remained on this &rm,
a severe blast of snow came on by ni^t about the lat-
ter end of April, which destroyed several scores of our
lambs ; and as we had not enow of twins and odd
lambs for the mothers that had lost theirs, of course
we selected the best ewes, and put lainbs to them. As
we were making the distribution, I requested of my
master to spare me a lamb for a hawked ewe which he
knew, and which was standing over a dead lamb in the
head of the hope, about four miles from the house.
He would not do it, but bid me let her stand over her
lamb for a day or two, and perhaps a twin would be
forthcoming. I did so, and faithfully she did stand to
her charge ; so faithfully, that I think the like never
was equalled by any of the woolly race. I visited her
every morning and evening, and for the first eight days
never found her above two or three yards from the
lamb ; and always, as I went my rounds, she eyed me
long ere I came near her, and kept tramping with her
foot, and whistling through her nose, to frighten away
the dog ; he got a regidar chase twice a-day as I pass-

192 THE 89£PHCRD*8 CALENDAR.

edby: but, howerer excited and fiei^ee a ewe may be,
she nerer oSen any raaktaiioe to mankind, being per-
fectly and meekly pasrife to them. Tlie weather grew
fine and warm, and the dead lamb soon decayed, idiich
the body of a dead lamb does particularly soon ; but
still this affectionate and desolate creature kept hang-
ing orer the poor remains with as attachment that
seemed to be nourished by hopelessness. It often
drew the tears from my eyes to see her hanging with
snch fondness orer a few bones, mixed whli a aoodl
portion of wool. For the first fortnight ahe neTer ipil*
ted the spot, and for another week she Waited it engf
morning and eyening, uttering a few kindly and hsiil*
piercing bleats each time ; till at length eveyrttipiiaBt
of her offspring ranished, mixing with the soil, or wait-
ed away by the winds.

19S

CHAPTER VL

PRATERS.

TttBftB i% I beliei^, no d&ss of men professing the
fVotafitaat faith, so truly devQvt ns the siioj^iords of
Scodand* lliey get all the learning ^at the {Muish
schods afford ; are thoroughly acquainted with the
Scripfnses ; deeply read in theological wprks, and
reaily^ I am sOny to say it, generally mudh better in-
formed on these t<^H€s than th^ir masters. Every
shepherd is a man of rei^ectabUity'— he must be so,
eise he must cease to be a shepherd* His mast^'s
Aodk is entirely committed to his catey and if he dees
not manage it with constant attention* cautak«» and d^-
dsion, he cannot be employed. A part of the stock is
his own, however, so tliat his interest in it is ihe same
with thut of his master; and being t^ms the most inde-
pendent of men, if he cherishes a good b^iayiour, and
the most insigitdficant if he loses the esteem of his
employers, he has every motive for maintaining an
nnimpeachable character.

VOL. II. I

IM THE SHEFUXBSfs CALENDAR.

It is almost impossible, also, that he ckn h^ biKer
tlian a religions diaracter, beiog so rnxuik conireiiBuit
with the Almighty in his works, in all tb^ ^ings-on
of nature, and in his control of the otherwise resisflesB
elements. He feels himself a dependent b^Hg,' moin*
ing and evening, on the great Ruler of the tmiyerse ; he
holds conyerse with him in the cloud and the storm —
on the misty mountain and the darksome waste— in
the whirlmg drift and the overwhelming thaw— ^kiid
even in voices and sounds that ore only heard Vf the

r

howling cliff or solitary delL How can svch a tiS&
fail to be impressed with the presence of an eWruA
God, of an omidscient eye, and an tdmighty ar^' ^'

"The position generally holds good; ^for, as T'iave
said, the shepherds are a religious and devoid Mi of
men/ and among them the antiquated hut deligiitifiil ex-
ercise of family worship is never neglected. It'is al-
trays gone about with deeency and decorum ; biii tW-
mjlity being a thing despised, there is iio compoflitKm
that I' ever heard so truly original as these prayrn'oo-
cayBi6hatIy are ; sometimes for rude eloquence and pa-
thos, at other times for a nondescript sort of pomp,
and not unfrequently for a plain and somewtmt un-
becoming tieaniliarity.

One' of tte most notable men for this sort of family
eloiqu^nce was Adain Scott;, in Upper iDalgUesfa. I
had an uncle who herded with him, from whonoi I heard

^.^-^.^^VmMvr.y-^. *9^

. are as foUowis.
n. *v1^^.?^^^F17 thifijkthee fpr % greaj goftdijifiss

/iS^M^Kf >R4.*#'^v^? ^ came, into y9jl^• h^ad^tp jl;al^^
f^^^^l^ou^ht of sic an useless b^ af ;her," CXhis

^iw i^Jittle ^rl that ha<J beM somewhat, miracnlously
saved from drowninff.) ,

"JJor thy mercy's sake— for the sake, of thy poor
«infu i^vant^ that ai'e now a^dres^ine thee^i^ their
j^ 8l^l}y-shfdly way^ and for the sake o'lnair than we
dare wejel name to thee, hae mercy on R^lv. Xe. ken
^^ur^^ll he.is a wild mischievous calljont^t an4 thinks
nae mair o' committmg sin than a doe does o' licking
a d^h^; but^^ut thy hook in his nose> and thy Vndle
^m |is gab^^^^ him conaQ hftck to the^ wji^^ jerk

^M3^P??^^'?f*^?^*^^^^^ ^^^^ ^'^^ ^^^^"
•F " ^?i^ .fer«?*,,P9<>r, Ja^ whM :fi^ >^^X . ftlie

?S?^t?; ^a,*? Sfe^** ^®®P;^^yjwri9 P'pp^/Bi: iiJbp^it
-^-'ffr^.??^^? t?1?^ ye wad epdow ^ wi' ftJJ^fl^J8JIW*
and smeddum^o act for himself Por if ye.f^^fSJ^^H
be but a bauchle in this worldt and ^ backsitter m the
neist*

<< V^e desire to be submissive to thy will and plea-

sure at a* times ; but our desires are like ,new-bjidled

polts, or dogs that are first laid to the brae^r-thev run

, wil^ fjjftQ ynder oiju: control*^ 'Iliqu.hi^st a44^^ om to

our ^Eonily-'SO has b^^n thy will ; b|it it would never

196 THE SH£Pa|WD*S.4AM«ENI>AS*

tei4M» nbet If tf • Pf tte^ dk^Jlfav* l^ttps ii4iptll-
per the connexion ; but if the fool hath done b Mc^rf
tmmi dmiMtf againti all reaiofi jaid^gwJifc guy^
«Hdd nmy «kMid df«dra«itf settle iMUtbdritMtaib
tiU Jh0 thim in the flaae ihst hk f oV^ hstk IndWr
<I thUL tWs WM erid to be itt alhMno» «a 1^ MHoiiHe
of ene of hifl sou*) . .^ .. . ^:./y/f

^ We're a' like hanrlo, Wie aMike «iiMli» Wte«
like efegia liddlee i«4ike Imrke^ to do ern^ lite
to d» goody foid like dogie riddki^ that let tfuMiM'
the ffood^ and te^ tibe bad" .:.;•>,, fvrf

<< Bring down the tyrant and In lang itdl^ -ferlkLhiB
doae BMxUe ill the ymr^ and gie hiai arrcafiftf lHy
vfnih^ and gin he tmaa Iri^ tlaa» gie ifin^kei^^
(JEoi^ aigvfies doaMe, 4tF tmo' ea^^lXU^viHiaa
oceaMnal patiticm for «ae aeaeoa mif^ 'aiid>ia7^Befe
aaro^tOcaildceiapiabeiidiriiatil.iMaiit^ k' ' S^^j .u:n
^. ISiageBeral character <>f&oiliaaii»ne ti.iotbm
aad^aatinly; ooaBtant in the djataee^ialipeKi^ hi«Mt
otaiietrict Kith legaid to some of iia a(#n|l jiver^i
. ; I baae keaid Ae lc»Uowfng i^tioas siairirji i£ff^^
the fiunily poray^ns of an old relation of «A^^opi%rMf
8ia(»^gOM ila hia.reftt. - '.. -ui "i: j.u; , W4u

nv^, Am} mappoa^ md abooa, die th0iijl>leHi>aacai)il&'
lii|r}iait?aaridl|r Ueflsiag**'^ «(«^^MiVA%if«ii

tbidkhuf tot tfas baid£«*a lantf etiideand -a'CktiriBa-eidh»

afibtt(^^y'ihevpeUtkai«e»$ M>'0pbm thiii^ ^hifim

qiember before their Maker, eitW j>|i way-^f 'pcHUbli^
o&tt£emonf or thaaksgi ving. \QM»^foUowjft$ 'vnm told
tO'iiia ttii port of- the mom woF^^ld ama^-firsq^
qcfipiinatiy>>fog:aogie weekaJMrforO' b» left-m/^Mifiiv
iu wfaose/ather's service and hift<iwi| tktt decafed^ibqM-
l|9tjd ibad> apgnt j|he vhok oltbb :U£b4 ^ r?' -"-'
V >i^ Bkfa^^iof jnstaraii^ bi^^^ipimty widi itiy best bks^
ttiig^iU'^GUrkl^.Jii^ Proalieyall bis.wJonldlfiiKHi^
0anifl^«8pa&lly<4ati«iiiaUe yfft^wi4clii>i?iiti$pi^d
ttfoBiy ffiieua^ JjtiKre wcmv^nMt wyjyufeiBitlid'i^^
him aad Ua iialbAi%8iid^i]|lGB0t|Eepit«haiit i faa^eiMf
ner^^xMired »kaee« betoe tkee imthmit 9iiti0QdM»Hng^
tfaaxa^ ' 111031^ kti#wea^-al8ef ^Aatl I'hftve>i^cr«itt^Bed
ni^t^r felsi^ iMt da/s GOtnfb]?t^ wliffla^in^iii <aBi|«ti^
«ioA»,Jwkl|~4liek ititdresi. : 1^ <loiile«fr dayb 4ad -the
t^lUMlnkiBrtilJt^ iii» a|i th^ MgbMI «f^imtf

mer ^ and if he has not done weri ia^'ca0th%^0itt'yft
ai^d^ls|^iiilti#tlKi«loigitehii&^ IfdfP^iMmih
l^ti^kterl/flad yiUa^i^das^ t»|)i^^jMf^4]l9»; tat

lyaid bjMmg||ard the ffl»y be|id»>pdjMyjto JdatteB) <I

198 THE 8HEPH£IU>*8 CALKNDAR.

wish to God that my anld herd had been here yet!*^ I
ken o' neither house nor habitation this nighty but for
the sake o' them amang as that canna do for thems^
I ken thou wilt provide ane ; for though then hast tiwd
me with hard and sair adversities, I have had more
than my share of thy mercies, and thou kens better
than I can tell thee that thou hast never bestowed them
on an unthankful heart.^

This is the sentence, exactly as it was related to m^
but I am sure it is not correct ; for, though very like
his manner, I never heard him come so near the £iw-
lish language in one sentence in my life. I once h^pl
him say, in allusion to a chapter he had been readinff
about David and Goliath, and just at the close of his
prayer : " And when our besetting sins come bragn^
and blowstering upon us, like Gully o' Oath, O enaUe
us to fling o£r the airmer and haimishing o* the law^
whilk we haena proved, and whup up the simple slin^^
o* the gospel, and nail the smooth stanes a* redeemmg
irrace into their foreheads.''

Of all the compositions, for simple pathos,, that I
ever saw or heard, his prayer, on the evenmg of that
day on which he buried his only son, excelled ; buiat
this distance of time,^ it is impossible for me to do it
justice ; and I dare not take it on me to garble it. He
began the subject of his sorrows thus : —

<< Thou hast seen meet, in thy wise providence, to

PRAT£RS. , 199

.. . f< . '

remove the staff out of my right hand, a^t the very time
when, to us poor sand-blind mortals, it appeared that
1 Stood maist m need o t. But O it was a sicker ane.
and a sure ane, and a dear ane to my heart I and how
m climD the steep hill o' auld age and sorrow with-
out i1$ thou mavst ken, but I dinna.

His singing of the psalms surpassed (ul exhibitions

■ ■„[ ...I-.-.. ,. ..• )../ . '• ■If;.:-. .^'lilBjl.'

thai erer were witnessed of a sacred nature. He had
not the least air of sacred music ; there was no attempt
at it ; It was a sort of recitative of the most grotesque
kind ; and yet he deliirhted in it» and s^ng far more

J.I ; ■■■••. •;■;.,.■.. .T).:i •::(»« ?m*

verses every night than is customary. The first time

VhL"*-' "'v'f"» • ■ ' • '* -^ '• • •."..'• • ^.« ''>.'

I heard him. I was very young ; but I could not stand

it^ and leaned myself back into a bed, and laughed till

my strength could serve me no longer.. He had like-

went on. And such remarks I One evemng I heard
Dim reading a chapter— I have forgot where it was— -
out ne came to words like these : <^ And other nations,

:i'' '.^iKfv

whom the great and noble Asnapper brought over''
John stopped short, and, considering for a little,
says: ^Asnapper! whaten^a king was he that? I
dinna inind o' ever hearing tell o' him afore. '— " I din-
na ken,*' said one of the girls ; << but he has a queer
name.'' — " It is something like a goolly knife, said, a
younger one. << Whisht^ dame," said John, aivl then

200 THE SIf EPHERO^S CALENDAR.

went oil wit& tbe dMVter. I bcuieTe it wis jibantibe
foanb or fifth chapter of ^xnu He addonoL for a ainrie
jQudiL miaaed a few obaervationa of the aame aort.

Anotber ^ighl. aot kmg after ,th^ tiaw abore not^ead^
he waa reading of the feata of ao^ Sawhallat; whr aet
himself against the buildiBg of the .s^ocpd tem|de : on
doaing the ^ble John ottered a long bemb I and Aai
I knew tliere was aomething fortheonii^. « He w
been aiiother nor a gade ane that," added he : '< I hat
tme brow o* their Sandy-baHet,**

Upon another oecaaioa he ato]^»ed m ll^^iiiifl^ of

a chapter and uttered his ^ heaoh Y* of dnamirpyBli and
then added, « If it had been the Lovd> will. I^^itek
they mi|^ hae left oat that vena''--T-*f j(|t,^ jbasiA ^q^
his will, thoi^hr said oa& of the £^.~^'It jjeeiqa ^^
saidJohn. I.hayeentii^lyfoigotwhat^e.waa^r^i^ilg
about, and am often vexed at baring foj]|;9t the Te^^e
that John wanted eaqpunged from the BiJMe. , It uras
in some of the minor prophets.

Th^re was another time he came to Ha.brother-iB-
law's house, where I was then liyii^ and Jo^ h|ing
the dde^t man, the Bible was laid down.before him to
make family womhipw He made no objection l^B^J'^
gaiij as was always his custom, by. Asbipj^ a bleamtig ^n
their deration ; and when he had done, H beiiu&eQ9-
ternary .for thqee who make fiemuly. Ti^orc^P toj^ng
straight through the Psalms from beginnii^ to end.

PIUVBRS. ^1

Jdm BKpf ^ We'Q obg.in yoer ofdinar]^. Where ia

li?^— -^'VTe do notdwayBOOig in (Mneplaoe)'' feiaidtlie

gJDbdbaan cif the boose. <'Na, I diuretey'lSo, or 6be

yeli niai^ tlitt pkee threadbare,*' aaid Jdfli,'iff rshor^

'crabbed style, manifestly suspecting thil his Iriaid was
«.."■■ " . - . ■

not ngidar m his &nuly devoti^Mis* Thb "petA ci fiharp

wU after the worship Was hegtuk had to IM ain eflect

highl; ludicroiis.

When he came to give put the diapt^ , hA ranaKbed»

thai there woold be no ordinary there eithffiv be itdp»

posed. <« We have been reading in Job to a lao|^ time,"

sfldd the goodman. << How tai% ?" said Jdkn.dyjy, as

he turned over the leaves, thinking to caSdi Ms ^ieod

at fault. « Oy I dinna ken that," said the other ;^ but

thereVft mark laid in that will teU yoii ibe Ut^-^M^If

.j^ hae rcfid w^ lang in Job," isaya John, ^^yon wiU

^Uai^idade him ^eadbare too^ for die mark hi eo9f at

tlffi ninth i^pter.** There waa no answer, ao be t^td

"cxL^ In tiie course of the chapter he^canur to these

worda— -<< Who commandeth the son, and itriseth nou"

~<^I never hetfrd of Hioor doing dkal,** says Jolm.

-.^ But Job, honest man, maybe means the darkneiitf.Aat

waa hi the land o' Egypt* Itwad b^afearBome'ilnng

ak'die stm w»ma tin rise," Alitdefiitther'oiibeicame

lo^ tteae in^cHrds-^^^ Which makethr Arcturtts, OiiOD,

'ftad=!Pteladbs, and the cfaamb^a of the south.".^^^^ I hae

' ofteif #dndared at that verse," says John. << Job has

1 2

98f THE SUBFltlakkf^tAlXSI^AtU

Gowden Plough.** .:i j^mu u.:«i i^ini ^lar

»'* 0» rwrfiag tke^litciiiptor of lii§Mok%rM6/4ilieii
iitttiiae^t^theeiiiBBWfctim oMie yiMaMN Mf^^tii^
iM^ramatked, « He hm hid b* laico iagmMariifeimaai
Pmxum-iknmmi tk^t Hdwinolr^^^^tlMtt'tia.

'¥fmA ^ a dMktfd^cooliBtkMitii hk €iiftpfaig»iiii# qiifti-
iiig«« 'fiiz^li^tittad^ttmeH ftthooMftd'yoke'of^Oi)
ftDd a lliMMid dlie-asMs. Wlist^ te the' ttdd^-wiilld,
^Id he do wi* a^ Ihae txtBimrmf Wad i»^4idhi«^%(Mli
mair purpose-like if he had had theia a* milk fejfte^K^
•M Whairad he kae goitea to have niHiktfmhtmk?^ ttid
'oae of tfae-glrh; > «< It*8 teni true,** «aSd\Miiik'i f-< "^
'-* OiietbM^'dtiyiiig' a long itid'«eVere 1]^^ tftornTof
«tiolir^ki'all<ifiieaid^Bie chapter h^'h«dhe<^'iMffiri|,
'hepi«fed^M'folloit%-: (QThte k tom4iettt«h)h) -^Is'^ihe
Whdcedeto of d«K^tieii Id Uto %tin M^^ vitfMikli^ df
^itr'ted ibf ^cMoff is^th^ eeAMf h<^W*^lf)^li«H^M8
terperfeh Mtf'tfriBlhi^ of-tfae^iliEdrtli?:^^^
Vhduted hilk ar^thiii^ aiid Urieif'tit^'^r dettilUrtNld
he^iflelliii^fatliefr-^^«hoii wad a^ef^^
' the pooler ; hat it is a grM matter t6 a^. ' Have ]^t)r,

rt A <~V'* r r

l?iWr}^i?q%fFT. ',v": $AS

^1^ (mttl^ Uy««fQf4b]riTi^tnf^|9iri#^

tare fdncemair appear.*'. '.H^iMoiH ciobv/o;*

jtH^moti ebep)t|^.y(HiqgaA(^iel4y)tii^
imgh(Mi4r^re|«aii tbaB)i»iajt,iaeid-tiDieyili iiU.4^^
Bingtal^ibe iddeAl»faBd>gpiiig.^,<«t lih» J^^omgcu^ntbai^
9»^|nre «^ivaah4Mi rf^peci^of pec90i»r)wil]i <sQd»e9t>>dlBte

)^}^itiUi^)!^ wiM»v.to vito i^iuigei^.iKbt «l^tiiui|^)y
fi^AMecLo /0£.ico«rae^iii;^deydT«44|gcua>i9«i!Jkd»^
|;p]mfi^Hlff> Jii» l^coad bQnBt^^.ltoift> addressed hb ^Abk^

in thy bJi^VKKi mwdytkxit ^se^Jio are^^imediaf tbee
»n4^tby aww€^<>f^tlwBi tlum w^ Veiarf^wftedi^hen
i^Q%^M)^2fl^t iWitP/iky.Ii^3gi|oiQ»..Now««Jljlmtiir^^
Mye)>egfQ(fl^ija||}this.tiDM i^ tb»t»(&»0«^1W»y iliot

». <yii<WIi*P|d» Aou^b^^ ,tha$f ps^^<|jii^|» j^*U^iP^^ a

9M THE i Wl —H'i UJ H I IIPAB,

TIm yamg mm khikm leMcs ^m^^ flmniyv A
fJMt gffvw M led M fluM, aad it ww wiwml dftyv W
fon iM coidd aMone Ilk ihmI Unilsr* Had I Jmd
with Jokft s fiNT yevBr I coald Imsm.fkik&A np fai&n.
marks on the greater part of thete^itoBB^ te to vead
aadaotiiiakexiHii|i^WMp«tqfhie]MM««r. Tliatlory
af BAth wae a gieatfimante wiA Iiifli!--4ia afit^
HtohiateailyolaSbU^athaTeDsii^as «*a.goodlaam
oa aatarali^ ;** b«l 1» neTer iinM laakiag tiM fttnadi^
that' <f ii jaaa ate mwr acf dniiy ia,kmd^ tmmp m
bewdaiAaiiwHinaiair.tthe aighMfanaHiPkeB.ha.aiai

.i-i/i^ |I:m«.W »!• ,V--.m - • . f ..I -.■ Mw « itivfi. i tr^f:!^,

■ " .-»• , ii^tjtt r.i; ,, . <:/>.. ...^ .i .»•. * ;. f*"^ i:«i*. ^^^y^ljviiifif

^1 t,- 1«,;. 114 . , . ». , 1^ ». .■■•^;(. ^»^i t«» 4{t|^»^. ^^r.- j^j

-i ;^«' »> ,-, iJilv*.-

'■ ■ •

-"^i! ^yj^L) unj*Yt^>i ^F7? Ji bin? ,^aiiili hb i>t>i 2B whts *}.•)«*
t*Ryi or i«*'i v'tJi/j/qri)^ ^iif to mq i^JBtrr^ i)iij iioH^iiarri

88 otliei^ ooniieeted witii faiglier ii«iiw8««-lw|Aiiai'4AB
place I ahall confine myaelf to a £bw> of whicb several
Tehite to tbe same penon, and are tfam ilhwtnUiva of
individBBl dnmeto^ The first that dabn attssttion aie
ibose eoBoerniag a man reiy £unons iahia ocvin spheret
'an anceslor of my own9-*-4)iB redanbtad

WiirL o* PHAUPy one of the gauuiie LaUUavra af
Crsiky was bom at that place in 169L Hewaasbep-
herd in I4iaap for fifty-fiTe years. For feats of froUf,
strength, and agility, he had no eqnal in his day. In
the hall of the fadrdy at the furmer's ingle, ^nd in the
sh^herd's cot, WiU was alike a welcome guest ; and
in whateTer€<»Dpany he was, he kept the whole in one

206 THB SinBPBBB»'6 OJflUBMDAB*

xoir of mmtimmL in 1WBlVd^N%HliiiiHi!f mamki
conmoa drink ia thie eowitiy ;>-a8ifar'1dbflik|f/it Mi^
like tilvec in the- days of ^knion^ >nodhipyjMieanBiii
oC CkMd block Ffwcb iMMdy-vraBtfce-fltestiiMplei^
Torago ; and a haaTy neighbour Wil|ywBO(on^ii^"Mia{f
a bard boiiso bebadaboii^Moffiit^VidT«aaDy!ain(WtAft
rUt goneraUy for wag^wa of ao aaa]r*fiirtaiDf-bniikd(fi;
and in aU bis life bane YW. was ha^ Hetonce taaot
Moflbt for a wager of five gakinssif ^icb one*of shs
clnefii of iJb JohiMUm belted^ Q» biar headlMifisiOlip^
nam was a eakbnrted ■ nmnec^froas^ Ciawii ■ ibiMiibi! tf
tbo wune ofMBkikUfy oa wbose bead^ov iRlIiaiii^li
vbose £bo^ a Captain Doag^ hadniffiai^iiidiv '^Wttl
knaw^aodnngof the match till ha wmtAto Meg$itf>mtt
was vary arose to it. ><.No ^thaa.herwaa aatffymlf
fear'dJror4faedii^"rhe said; ^ bathabHl osbUhs fli»^
day daesy and a» momf lad^ea «Bd f[mikMaai«waatta
be there to see the raee, he didoa hko to appear eibre
them like an asaie ffhaipi" v .j:uJ ., i in;.

However, he was urgad, and obVged to gO'ontjaad
fttnp;andyas be told it» <<a poarifigooBtfl teAdoMiida
ihe^sUeld wi' his grand nifled sark*^^ I laas attemiftatatie
at thinking^ tha^ WiU V . Flmnp. shaobl basi loadbisicia
dirty i^iabby f^peasance afore sae (mony giit^ fayur^Wnd
bonny laddiesy that not a fit I eeiild>rin Biaiv(jiSn^\i bid
been a diber. Tbe'iace waa downmt AnnanHsideirtLasI
jimply a miky^ ot^t and in;r and| at the vary firat^ the

maivi¥i' lhrfufiM.^tailL fle6(ir off likif^wilfiM!, ttld^feh

]r)JiaAsieidieF«kent>i[ior powefy isl) <a ^H^ qtt^^ aci^S^
4Aiil4bie&Utine(f >for^ Scots iprtmd I di^ tik^ t^ng'o^ tiiy
okNrtbfarednbiiekioQBe, ettidia'a isttomeiit ^th^y i^^i at
m^hittdb^^BBditliero wb» I staac^l^Ilke i. hip^cdg^N
i^l^iiOfHn* then, i^attp I ^ Off tH'th^rctM
aiie. jf^Qdy Bhyl jmt spiwg'out o'^tliem; luid tiiett itl<^
fitent i^imdrsriH i^bits ran t» 4&»pvop€Ar p^tek ' 'Tli^

jfBf^a{bm9^ o'ertak iBm^ ^r I sotPcelif^keiill'd^fi^tltt^
lil^Mto tcHMJbiBgrtbarfri»d«rfie^ii th# ah^ tind-ito I
diMietbjriMr^WBldi^ Inboard hka sajdiig, ^'PbftiA|i('Bili
UmrywifV fta^he mr Blaikley faUuig. I^thyWrn,
hum ittidma* midDlef to brag^ o^^for h^keeptt^be^t^
on BttF/tiU witfbmm ^g^-dbot 9' tbe fltMitig^po^ ."'"^

nf^SHmoi^KiD^ wis 8ie« fittscf ab^ittkni^by'th^Wi^
ning party, and naetbing wad ^MTfo tbem' btfi;' tMt 1
fllMmld^fliiw vli^1faoBtlnthe/pdbUeto«m•< ^^'Nl^iSbtld
Jii^itbfllre^heii,^ Mr JbbBBto< sajral, (^ fbr tioi^ •ydftf
ladiieioiily lencb atmy aoddem^ if I 'war id^Rmiei'
iriMli«ai in thin siai^ i kemilk bow tfa^y^%llf "tift^ it;^ ^

Oii¥SiittiiWfflww« yoii!iglad^iOiij|^«htteett^y^iM<^
Agoi and'tfaBf>'v«iy'fintt<y«ar he waai&Fhaot^^bn^ttftt*
t»ri»€^fetd^<9iiieeiofjlik' wbole dn><^ bf I%ttilp bogis

on^ 1b8 baod, at a race witb att^EngiiBfawan im^th^

208 THE 8liKmSIID*8 CALBKDAR.

fllicirbttik. Jtmm Antem, Enq. of EttricUiaB, «w

tlui bnner of Phnqs nd he hid noled at the ahed-

dii^ before his youig ihephod left hooiey that wliv

efor a iheep got by wrongs he never did more thaanm

enight after it, lay hold of it by sheer speed, and briaf

it back in his arms. So the laird ha^ag fivmed la^

ideal of Will's swiftaees, without letting faim knoir of

the matter, first got an'Englidi gentleman uato a'hesti

by hragging the English rannen with Soots ones, and

then profiered betting the piioe of his 90Q wodder hof|i^

)hat he had a poor starred barefooted boy who was hdp-

ing to drira then^— whom he believed io be abodt die

worst nmner in Scotland^— who wonld yet bieai Aebiflt

Englishman that could be foand in Stagahatrbank-ftir.

The Englishman's national pride waa tooched, ai

weD it might, his oonntrymen beii% well ImoWKaa'As

saperior mnners. The bet was taken, and WDl woo

it with the greatest ease^ for his' master, witfaonttefaig

made aware of the stake for wUeh he ran* Hum &s

never knew till some months afterwidtdi^ tint lua mas*

ter presented him with a guinea, a pair of new aboes,

and a load of oatmeal, for winning him the prfe^ of

the Fhaup hogs. Will' was exceedingly prdud of the

feat he had performed, as well as of the proseii^tgWch,

he remarked, was as much to faim as the pricie^of die

hogs was to his master. From that day €ordi be was

neyo* beat at a fair race.

7

ODD CHABACTBBS.

H« Mver went to 'Sjo^M, that"t)i«..^Fmen'£^ not
gat fum ii^ tbrir company, and um nenr d^ ^ get
him ttfPiaap afibv. Vae n^feafivUatie ibm
faAf^Ofed,WKte,taT an a^ tbe ■Kfndbwj^^vf di»
Ogmtn, and i&say (rf hi{B avpaga settled ifitar^guar
piiiyba of^by-wwidfc Uis gmt, oul^,i)w .<* Scots
grandr.And " $cotB niuid, .^oo' AVill g|* I%ai^p," !».
R Bta^Un^ excl^ma^n to this day — " One ptaao "^^f^
fmiW^ o' ^tuip,?.iB another, — and there on nan^
^^ar raw., ..T)ie b^t menSioiKd had ha of^f^ ^i*
Ofl^of^l^KMft Mo&t bonaei, from which the fanner of
Salm^jH^I Will vere returning by night ^Jiesdiy
fawbnstqd, t{ie fanner ridii^ and WiU fmmb^bj'lu
aide. |do&t wator being aomewfast hooded, tfa^^-
mfyjirnynnwl wiring TiaicHnir nn thn borsalicidni l^uo.
W^,afpi^6a,\fst, aa he avEnxed, never got aeUed
rigl^ till f^ imp^ent ^ixml plniwed into tbe .traterr
and-tltt two ^friends came, oS, and.flqated doini the
nm^hfmmgj>y m»^9^ieT. The &fioOT ^ to hia
Iwrt &n, but in pnlling ont WiQliJaat hp ^qoilUiriaiD
,» aeccnd ^m^ ynd plunging headloag i^itoytl^ Btr^ini,
dp^.Le weat.^-,Will ma^ (l^^in ti>e,iitma|U per-
|ij|[pjyj fOT^^jj^lJ^^ IU14 dnc^ng yi^dipr,^ he

«IBif qi^,be|tiuabe^ K(d,th(( i^J w^a ifa djudE as
f^elit;,,^,^ dqwR t|!e.^de of ,t|)iq Bfig^ tn^atiocoifi
Ua friend, and loaing all ugbt.of turn,, h^ knew sot
«tet to da ; bnt bemng A. great plunge, be made t«>

210 THE shepherd's caxjekdar.

wards the place, calling out, '^ Que plash niqre^,j9ir«
and I have jourr-One pladi nc^or^ quo' Will o'.PIiaii{ij."
but , all was silent I << Scots gcond I qm' Will pVPl^
«.^ man drown'd^ and me bereT Witt ra^.to./i
stream, and took his station in the middle of ,|bs
water, in hopes of feeling his drpwnUi; friend Q0ipi9
against his legs^^bnt the farmer got safely out. |)y
himself. .. ,;.

There was another time at Moffi^it, thathe was tals^
in, and had to pay a dinner and drink for a wlu^]|^|^
party of gentlemen. I have forgot how U bgypwy)fl|»
but thi^k it was by a wager. He had not only t^r^gfff
with aU his money, but had to pawn bis w]biole H^f!^
of sheep. He then came home widi a heavy hew^
told his wife what he had done,, and tibat he^ ;^i^^
mined tnan* She said^ that since he ha4 ^^f4i)^
cow, they would do well enough. ,,, .j^:

. The money was repaid afterwards^ so that WiJ^^Jj^
not actually _ lose his stock; but after idiat b^.^^f^
aeldomer.to MojObt.. He fell upon a miicl^.ea^l^]^
of getting sport;, for, at that period, there ys^^j^ffge
s^i}tly ba^ds of smugglers passing from the. So^^fnyii
through the wUd region where heliTedfitQW^ni^f^
Lothians. From th^e Will purcjbosed.oQcas^of^f^^
sfQC^rptJ^iandy, and then the gentlem^ fn^^ fffip^P^"
c^n6 aU .B^ drank with him, paying.hinn a^ the e^)^
mQai:4lLt^<^,a;dbilUng per bpttte^ all ,lcis^^ji|ep^f||9f

being despised, attd out of teptite, at Pbitupf: It hfS^
ciiliifo'apbU^e of conttantraide^^^^
thej^ (irank too deep to he a safe pla^i for'j^^htltoi^ii
to meet* Tli^re were two iiyal homes of Andersbnsat
tbat tbne that nerer ceased qnairelling, and Aef we^
wont always to come to Phatrp with their swords by
ibeir sides. Being all exceedingly stout into, 'a!tid eqtaib^
ly good swordsmen, it may easily be supposed 'i!Mf'
^^re^dangeroiis neighbowB to tne^^t iii sixch a wild re*
mi^te place. Accordingly, there were iiiaiifyqtiarrelsaild
blbody bouts there as long as the Andersons possessed
FluLup ; after which, the brandy Eastern wais laid asidd;
WID' twic« saved his master^s life in these afimys ^
oi^e; i^dieik he had drawn On three of the Amosea,
tefiaittt»'6f Fotbitfn, and when they had mastered his
s^ot^, broken it, and were dragging him to the nrSr
by the neckcloth. Will knocked dowh one, dut Us
nttsti^s irtfekcloth, tod defended him stoutly^ he
glidiei^Hd his hr^ath ; and then the two jobtly £d 'dmUli
tit6 A^beeS^id A^ heisrif s satisfaction ! ' And attotfliir
ti!M6, froin thid Word of Michael of TuShielaW'; btit tk^
diiUd hot'heIj(» the tt^ fight^ due! ^i^srr^fMfif
il/ldtki9(iiiiiih^t«^ mii^dnef, and mm^htti^ii^

bi6ifti^;'«rtk)tig tftese^i^ :ki < jm. .

-Will ahidhy'ilQttsteroitee fdughtkbirtiteilietais^ryito
tWtt; ii^ iri^ a' WiW glentttBed PhWip'CbtMto;'' TW§y
diffi^^d aMftft a y6ui^h<Ar8e,ivhiiAlih^ ]j«^

«1»

wiai» die Agphad

te the dbcpiMxi^, nd lit

Uten.* He tried flBfoaltiBHrteckMBv*

Cv liiii tamrity. At kagtbi^
HiMiMl ^nra Iw kaai^ took n loimiiiir ■crow ^e

JB ilHl MWIllBIW, hit kit ill Kill tutiM

wliA Wm clflMd wkli liin» Viatmd Jam- wi^^
bfp^Iiiii ifiw% 9mA hok&ig him tet|--4nit«lLl)i^
li#4D9«dddo^lwciQld]M»l pacify hiMb hfjUUIljimiliwi
l»vimUlbaf»U»lNWEi'sblMd. T/^WltiwkM
wmma^haiM^MpnmgM^wBkAhmmiwmwft^iikmii^
IholMd pnantd fer m time, Imt be mgbi M imU
|Af« ttibd to cetcb a vee4Mflk ; m be wchI; hiek tii

• . »

'. X122D CHA3IACrniai& H^ 21S

Witt} eixpieted asnmiDdBB 9f remanral ii^xt^^doyv^^
fiftjttlemat ibefactheBl^lMl; Mr ikudencautookvo
aodcft of the sffa^^^ aor ««er w nmdi'BS iSN^liaiMl it

.. Wtt had many pitdmd bttbdfisviPith 4^
^■ngll^eiSy ia- deiBBoe •£ i&is snstai^s fnBb^viiyuiiigy
MTMe noised iddoadiDgogii "dig kadt of ri9iaa)i^tifd
toaiiaf tbeir li<»nM to tii# beH gtan tkff coi&dilBfl.
Aitoaidbig to hk acoottttt^tiieBe Mlows were «niibtfl^
ia^laiiiilew; and aocoontBd aeAing «f «uidD|plraBi
tlie «a«t]itoy peq^e wliat6verthey''iiaededlttJiHn«r-
gtnd«k M!fae f^pAs% toOf mnn ibsa acGosteiaeiL'te
ttsrasB jfaa- catmtsy da baadaiof front twimtjtbsiartyj
Bad.anBra no batter tbaa fceebooteiB;:iiBat>la neoid
eoeiy.DBa of Will io* I^urap's licroiciibalSy i^toald vn
qoiraajiaduiae^ i aiuJl^ tiMSEefarey atdf mentioauoae
laKtwm: ofi faifl db«zact»v wfakii was {faia-*P«r.i. ji::vz
i •^^iv^aJ^iafirtiaanof tlw wild regaai, who htiaid,
flaw^laad ooiaivrfi^ ^f«i^ tha FainM 9 kid al^
or «aiil«^vtwt cot irandi^ timet Bid 11ieaMi«

iB|«r wincdi Witt lived lor nbe betterifath oliiiiaiife,
al'01d:(Jf|Mir Fbrnp, was ane^tftiia aK>st)onfld3raad
diBnntIsiMiitto]»that«ff«r was <he dai^iog otf^toataa
oMtwesj vIimT»:Joft€«i 9iKmdsMid,lio>w^^
imddi iiWaoilaaf, and «Mff so^xiaibM^easidbdiinspeb-
labfatai tadlf , ia aocli4kMbksi;ioai:> It kJottiUfao my

tH THE SHEPHERP'S CALEKDAR.

o^Ukirts of Ettrick Forest, quite out of tlie raqge Of
•OQial intercourse, a fit retirement for lawless banditti,
and a genial one for the last retreat of the spirits qf
the. glen — ^before taking their final leave of the lan4 of
their love, in which the light of the gospel tbeii .grew
too bright for their tiny moonlight forms. Th^re has
Will beheld them riding in long and beautiful array,
by the light of the moon, and even in ,the summer
twilight ; and there has he seen them sitting in js^ven
circles, in the bottom of a deep ravine, drinking nector
oat of cups of silver and gold, no bigger than the ^eyf'
cap flower ; and there did he behold their wild uQ^ijhly
eyesy all of one bright sparkling blue, turned every Qoe
vpon him at the same moment, and heard thek piy9|^
nous whisperings, of which he knew no ^pr^^ b^
• now and then the repetition of his own. naoofii w^db
was iflways done in a strain of pity, WiU wf^J^Jf^p$
from the hill one dark misty evening in 'f^ri^iteL an^
for a good while, imagined he heard a :greaf ,g«^^^g
of'children's voices, not far from him, wbich.sti^tgreyr
more and more audible ; it being before sunset^ h^ l|ad
no spark of fear, but set about investigating whoKoe
the sounds and laughter proceeded* H9>,at leiigth,
discovered that they issued from a deep deugh nptfar
distaniy and thinking it was a band of gipsfes, or spipe
marauders, he laid down his bonnet and plaid».and
creepmg softly over the heath, reached the brink of

0£>D CHAlUCTfiR& 215

the precipice, peeped ov^r, and to bis titter astbbisb-
menit, beheld the Fairies sitting in seven circles, on a
green spot in the bottom of the deU, where nd green
spot iever was before* They were apparently e&tihg
and drinking ; bnt all their motions were so quick and
inomentary, he could not well say what they were
doing, ' Two or three at the queen's back appear-
ed to be baking bread. ' The party consisted wholly
of ladiesy and their nunibers quite countles8«->dre6sed
iQ green poUonians, and grass-green bonniets on their
heads. R6 perceived at once, by their looks, their
^gglihjQ^, and their peals of laughter, that he 'was disk
•covered* Still fear took no hold of his heart, for it
wtis^ybght, 4nd the blessed sun was in heaven, al-
thftftgh' obscured by clouds; till at length he heard
t&ti prbkidunce his own name twice ; Will then be-
^ko. io thhik it might not be quite so safe to wait till
they pronounced it a third time, and ai that moment
of'hesitaiaon k'fit^t came into his mind that it was
All Hallow Eve I There was no farther occasion to
warnWill to rise and rim ; for he well knew the Fairies
Werfe privOeged, on that day and night, to do what
a^ihi^d good in their own eyes. ** His hair," he said,
^< stood all up like the birses on a sow's back, and every
bit d* his body, outside and in, prinkled as it had been
b^bnt' wi^ nettles/' He ran home as fast as his feet
could carry him, and greatly were his children astonisb-

816

^ (far Im vmt ihrn t wiitow*) t» «e6 ifaar tebir
r«BHBg Klu ft niriiMB, vMovft riAor lis hiii^
or pkUL H« MwmMeJi dMB to ^fimfm% md
ghm d» door, Iml did no« teH then wl«l lie iMd «Mi
lor wvonl ycom.

AnodMr tioM Im followed o whide troop of dMBif
o iriM 1^ odM Eirtartnmyy from ono «d 4o db
fidMry widioat ow boiBg^ Ale to edmo uf iroA lM%
ahiM«Bli dMy nefer oi^flONd lo be MOW A«i iknd^
poeei m ednaee* Ikkdmwmeihtyftymgtcamiim;
lor inatMd of bebg nmang el tMr qpeedt OS he ino
dbmg» t|iey wtmod to be ilMidiBg in e leige dtde. It
ittiqpeoed to be tbe day after eMoAtfiufar^ end lie eqp*
poMd them to be a peitf of Mi ne^bbomre itBtiuai^
froei U» wbo wished to lead lum li long chaee betae
diey anffiBred themeehea to be overtakeau He hmd
them ^Mekingy mngiag, and langbing ; and heitig e mm
eo fiond of aociaUty, he eierted hknself to eoBie ig[^ "Widi
tbemi but to no porpoee. Several tunoa did he bail
thee^ and desire them to hah» and tell hnn the newa
of the £ur; bnt wfamefcr he ahoatod, in n momem all
laraa silent, nntil in a riwrt time he heard the eaaaeiioiBB
of keeling and Gonvorsation at soeae diatanee fma boa.
Their talk, althongh Will coald not hear the wotda of
it Aatincdy, was evidently very animated^ aad he bed
no donbt they were reoonnting their feata at the fiur.

is always excited his cariosity afresh, and he made

. ODD CHAB^CXfiltt. 217

every exertion toorertidia-liie parly^ and when' he
juclgjGKi, from the wsaada, that ha was ckseiqKMi them^
he sent.fQrtb bis stentoBian holWr-^' ^top, lads, and tell
us the newa o* the fair r whieh.produeed the saone ef-
fect of deep silence for a time. Whea^ this had heen
r^eate^ sarecal timesi anda£keF the usual paiue, the
sikfacawa^agiun broken by a peal of ^ddrich laughter,
that Sfdemed to i^ead along the skies a?«r bis- head^
Will bjpgai^ to suspect that that unearthly lai^;h wasaot
altc^c^tljii^ unknown to him. Hestaod still to ocmsider,
and tbat n^oment the laugh waa repealed, and a^Toice
out <^ tba crowd called to Inm, in a ahnlLlaughmg tone^
'< Ha» ha, hal Will o' Phaup, lo<^ to your ain be&rth«>
staQe tb^ night.'' Will again direw off every «M^um*
br^iMi^.and fled home to his hmely eotythe most like»
ly spot in^e district for the Fakies to congregate ^ but
it is |v<mdei:ftd-wbat an idea of «afety is conferred by
the s^ht of ^ man's own hearth, and family drde.

Wbeik Will had become aright old man, and was sit-
ting^pn a lit^'greenhilloidLattheend^ his houses
one evenifig^ resting himself, there came three little
boya up jbo ihiiu^. all exactly like one- anotber> when the
following abiNn dialogue turned between Will and
them.- . ■

« Go^ e'en t'ye, WiU Laidlaw."

" Good e'en t ye, -creatures. - Where ir- ye gaun this
gate?"

VOL. II. K

:^i8 TUB mSPOMBSJiS CJUUKKDAMm

, « C» yo g:i« «» up-puttiag f«r di^ m^S^ ,fj,:
'. ^I ihmk threesiccan bitto* ahredfr^VJuuicb^
na be ill to put up. — ^Where came ye fins^p'Ji^ ^f.,v
'. . ^^Fiae a place that ye diium hm» But .ifv ^r^jf^BDi
. :<Hi * commiBsioii to you**' *7.--;i.b

;■ , ^ Cone away in theiii and tak tic cbe^r aa^-v^ Jqe*"
.Will Foae and led the way into tbo hoiwe^j^ilhe
. : Jittle boys followed ; and a» he went, he md.ouQ^^iply)
•without looking back^ << What'a your conwiafiigykto ^e,
r baima?*' He thought they might be thojBonSiof,4|pe
wgentleman, who was a guest of his master's* ...,:,
. *^ We are sent to demand a silver IcBy.that ywb^^
in yomr possessionb" . . ,. ,^,

. Will was astounded ; and standing atiU ,to ^jWfU^
jai some old transaction, he said, widiout l|f(iiig^luB
eyes from the ground, — , ,^ , t,

.. << A silver key ? In Gods namoi wh^e..pune ye
from?"

There was no answer, on which Will wheeled roand,
fMid round, and round ; but the tiny beings wera f^
gone, and Will never saw them more. At tljb^ name
of God, they vanished in the twinkling of an ey^ It
. is curious that I never should have heard t}ia secret of
the silver key, or indeed> whether ther^. was such a
.thing or not.
I But Will once saw a vision .vhich was -more unac-
countable than this still. On his way from Moffat one

^^ t^B CHARACTERS. £19

time, abottti^idiii^lit^ be perceited a ligiit vefy near
^'td'^ib'yetjj^ ^f a Bteep bill, whieh be knew perfectly
well, on "^Isolds of Selcouth. The )igbt>«ippeared
"^^^JbuHly Hite one fr4m a window, and as if a kuip mo-
Ted frequently within. His path was by the -bottom
df th^-hill, and the light being almost dose ait the top,
^' b^ Md at iSnit no thongbta of yisituig it: bat as it
'^* ^f&onie^in sight for a full mile, his emiosity to see what
^1t Was e^Btinned still to increase as lie ^i^roiached
^ 'KMiiers ' At length, on coming to the bottom 4>f the
steep bank, it appeared so bright and near, that he de-
' ^ittiined to climb the hill and see what it wai^ There
was no moon, but it was a starry night and not very
^^Hta^k^ and Will clambered up the precipice, and went
"^'^^'^sft^Aigfcl; to^tbe light, which he found to proceed from
an opening into a cavern, of about the dimensions of
"^'^ ^ tkilinary bam. The opening was a square one, and
just big enough for a man to creep in. Will set in
lis head, and beheld a row of casks from one end to
^^ ^m otheiS imd two men with long beards, bu£F belts
"^ ^botit t&eir w^ts, and torches in th^ hands, who
* seeined busy in writing something on each cask. They
wier^ not 1^ small casks used by smugglers, but large
t>ti^, about one half bigger than common tar-barrels,
and aU of a size, save two very huge ones at the fur-
ther end. The cavern was all neat and clean, but
there was an appearance of mouldiness abolit the casks.

220 THE bHEfUEBpS CALS2CDAlt

as if they had Btood there for ages. The men were
both at the farther end when Will looked m, «nd bu-
sily engaged ; but at length one of them came toin^
him, holding his torch abore his head, and, as WHI
thought, haying his eyes fixed on him* Will nerer
got such a fright in his life ;«-niany a frigiht lie had
got with unearthly creatures^ but this was the worrt
of all. The figure that i^proached him horn the ca*
rem was of gigantic size, with grizly features, and
a beard hanging down to his belL Will did not. stop
to consider what was best to be done, but, quite for-
getting that he was on the face of a hill, almost per-
pendicular, turned round, and ran with all hia mig^
It was not long till he missed his feet, fell, and hnrl-
ing down with great celerity, soon reached the bottom
of the steep, and getting on his feet, pursued his way
home in the utmost haste, terror, and amazement ; but
the light from the cavern was extinguished on the in-
stant— ^he saw it no more.

W^ill apprised all the people within his reach, the

next morning, of the wonderful discovery he had made ;

. »- .J

but the story was so like a fantasy or a dream, that
most of them were hard of belief; and some nev^ did
believe it, but ascribed all to the Moifet brandy. How-
ever, they sallied out in a body, armed with cudgels
and two or three rusty rapiers, to reconnoitre; Wt
the entrance into the cave they could not find, nor

OPD CHARACTERS, 221

hm it er&r been discovered to this day. Tiiey observed
very plainly the rot in the grass which Will had made
in his rapid descent from the cave> and there were also
found evident marks of two horses having been fastened
chat night in a wild cleuch-head, at a short distance from
llie spot they w^« searching. But these were the on-
ly discoveries to which the investigation led. If the
whole of tins was an' optical delusion, it was the most
singular t ever heard or read of. Fw my part, I do
not believe it was ; I believe there was such it cavern
existing- at that day, and that vestiges of it may still
Ibe discovered. It was an unfeasible story altogether
for a man to invent ; and, moreover, though Will was
B-man whose character had a deep tinge of the super-
stitions of his own country, he was besides a man of
pvolnty, tmth, and honour, and never told that for the
truth, which he did not believe to be so.

Daft Jock Amos was another odd character, of
whom many droll sayings are handed down. He was
a lunatic ; but having been a scholar in his youth, he
was possessed of a sort of wicked wit, and waver-
ing uncertain intelligence, that proved right trouble-
come to those who took it on them to reprove his ec-
centricities. As he lived close by the church, in the

2St THE BnvneoBip'B cAuani^xR.

tiiMt of die Aff^famed BcMtoil, die miftister ondl hsirm
oooMsitly Gomiiig in eontect, aad hmui^ of tiiekp Unit
dialogues are presenred*

<< The mabr fool are ye» quo' Jiock iIbhw «<r the arf*
iditer,* is a constant hy-word in Eltriek to tkis day.
It had its origin simply as follows i — Mr Boeteft -was
taking his tralk one fine svunmer erttung afteivBerisoa>
and in Ins way came mpon Jock, very hasy enltiSf
some grotesque figures in wood with his knifet. Jedk«
looking hastily up, found he was fairly caught) asid not
knowing what to say, hurst into a fo^ii^ bnigli--«>^ lb I
halhal Mr Boston, are you diere ? Will yon oesM
gdddwhittle wi' me?" - .i i .

. << Nay, nay, John, I will not exdiange knives .Kk

dajr. ■■..•. -K ^

'^Tlie mair fool are ye," quo' Jock Amoa t9 tlie jat^
nister. u ;;

'' ^ Btit,~John, can you repeat the fourth oaomand-
ment? — I hope you can«^\¥hififa k the fourth cma*
mandment ?*'

^ I daresay, Mr Boston, it'll he A^imm^^ikeatAtb

■»;•* (. ji.

. " Can you not repeat it ?" • '■ • ;t*;

. ^*^ t atn no sure nbout it^^I klen it has>«o«io uSieecam
hy the rest." -^ - .:.* t :;.;;

. WBoston repeated i^ and ttied to dbow hioi. his

V ■ • ' ^ • > *. I

efTarf'ifif' woikkg .wilh knives on; j^ Sabba|ii»,daf^|,
Jofaft.trrgttght ^w»y till the divide adc|e4, . , ,.,, ;;»;,o.^

<< But why won't you rather come to ctixa;^,iIpiiJjLj,^
— ^^iriiati «» iha i^easoD yoa ibst&c come to cbn^h ^'j

>^£ecaiise yoai^yer preadi on tfae^ti^ I xirfuit^jj^i^
toi^t'^emkon" , , , ^. .... .. , . ^^^.^,^

,.1^1 What 4ext wo«ld you have loe tP preach qn/!^'] 1^..

{{i^iOa the iiuiie4ui4-twenty knivee tha^ cane .jbi(^

fron Babyloa/' ^ . ^. ^t>

' ^ I never heard of them hefore.*^ - ^ . . ..

• /ff It U a sign you have never read yonr^^B^h^. ^^^
hBLfhaLf Mr'Boeton I aic fool sic mioLBter/' /

Mr Boston searched long for John'atexl; itha^ej^g^
hig^ioad at k»t ^finding it recorded in Ezra, Ju.^,vhe
wondered greatly at the acuteness of the fool, doj^
deting the subject on which he h^ heen rej^ving

okmMMBtf how anld.wiU ^rau ha?"^d« sifg|Q^)fifa to-
fafanAiieiday, whentalkiag4if the^.ag^ ,. , . .p,„^

• << O, I dmna ken," said John. « It wad t^fifffff^
hiibA(dm3LiWim to ^ yQu.tbaC'i t/ .^^^^jy ^ >.

^ It is unco queer that you dinna ken how auld^{{ii

are/ returned she, , - -^ : ., ^j ) ^

^a^l!i»a<]preel>^i^ugb how f^uldl am,'* .^^ ^ohn ;
" but I dinna ken how auld Til be/' • ^y.^,^^!,. .^^t
e £[ Aa.old juaoi naqied Ad9^JfiAton» poi^^ft^v!^
running from home in the grey of the morning. « Hey,

23i. THE SHMPHBftO's CAIiBNOAR.

Jock Amoi)" eaid h^ << wheie «r& yen- iMyudfor so
briskly thii momiiig r

«' Ahal He*8 wise thil W8t» that, and «i dsftwba

r

speen^"' stys Joek, wiihoat takkigliie^ eye hmiti some
ol^tcllhet it seemed to be foUowtng..

^< Are you running after any body ?* eaidrJLiittoiL

<« I am that, man," returned JocJc ; *^ Vm TbaiSng
afiker the deil e messenger. Did yea see oagfat e* him
gaun by ?**

« What was he like ?" said Lintom

** Like a great big black corbie," smd Jodc, ^cur-
rying a bit tow in his gab* And what do yok think ?
— 'be has tauld me a piece o' news lite day ! Thm^'s to
be a wedding ow^ by here the day^ mai^— -sy^ « wed^
ding I I mauu after him, for he has gien me an iniita*
ticHi."

** A wedding ? Dear Jock, you are raying. What
wedding can th^re be to«>day?'' said Linton«

<< It is £ppy Telfier'Sy man--uira}d Eppy Telfiea:^ to
be wed the day ; and Tm to be therei and the minis*
ter is to be there, and a' the elders. Bat Tammie^
the Cameroaiaa, he darena come, for fear he should
hae to dance wi' the kimmers. There will be braw
wark there theday, Aedie Linton,-<^bnw wark there
the day I" And away ran Jock towards Ettrickhonse,
hallooing and waving his cap for joy. Old Adam came
in, and said to his wife, who was still in bed, that he

• >^p chakaccbhs. ^25

tiipp^s^iAe^nMKHi^was at ^ luUyf<H^ JcmJe Aniios was
*^ gane quite gyte awthegither, aAd was< aaray: BhoBting
to jS^nft^Uipttse to, £ppy Teller's wedding."
,,fyThi^" said his wK^ **SiC be be iU^ she will be
wanr, for they are always affected. at the same time ;
ai^^ t)|p«gfa:£ppy is better than J^k m her ordinary
i^y^,f^e i^'waur when tbe^moen-iaadnets'iieomes x)wer
h^'' -(TMl^woiBaiiy Eppy TeLEer, waa4ikewiie' object
to lunatic fitsof insanity^ and Jock bad a great Ml will
-at her ; he could not eTepir.ondure'4he«igbt of h&t.)

The abp^ litde dialogue was hardly ended -before
w^,pa¥^;th^Eppy Telfer bad <^ put-dowii'* herself
oyer^ jQIghfcf fuid.was found hanging 4eed in her awn
4i^jl^ qpt^^ge at dayrbreak. Mr Boston was sent for,
-w^o^ wi^ lus serrant man and otte of hia eld^r^^ at-
tended, but in a state of such perplexity and grief, that
'besoemed ^dmost as much dead as' aUyOk y^Tbe body
was tied on a deal) cariied to tbe peak^f the Wedder
%A^^fmdt;\t!^^Bi there, and all the while* jf^nk Am6%
-attei^^d^^ax^ never in bis Jife metwitb Itn ontertain-
^^^;j^t appeared to pleasa him more.- While the
m,en ;^er^ milking the graye, be sat qn a^tone im^ by,
jsd^b^ring^ and^Hspoaiong one wfailey' always addressing
E^^^^ ^d ia^gbing ipost heartily at another*

- Aft^: tiii^ high fit Joeb tost bis spirits entirely^ and
neyw move •re^iOTered them» -^ -He became a i^mplete

. K 2

tn THE 90BraBBD*» CAIAKDAB.

nWMntity; td ky moatiy m bis bed till the day of jtii

. I

VHICnit €9aMtm*

AxoTHKE ftotiUe nan of dmt day was WjUitfn
Sioddsrt, mdmained Candleoi> one of the fenaia of ^£^
triddtoase. He was simple^ unlettered,. and xado^^
an Ins 8ayii%s ikil are presenred tes^. B^og aboat
to be married to one Meggie Coltardy a great p^tny-
wedding was simoimced, and the niimbers duit .cane
to atiead it were immense. Candlem and his b^ide
went to Ettrid^ church to be married, and Mr fiosten,
who was minister there, paroeiying such a motley csctwd
following them, repaired into the church ; and after ad-
mittiog a few respectable witnesses, he set hia son Jabi>)
and Ins servant John Carrie, to keep the two.doors,;and
restrain the crowd from entering. Young Boston lej^ia
a nmnber at his door, but John Came stood manfidly
in the breach, tefusing entrance to alL When tb^ mi-
mster came to put the question, << Are you willing to
take this woman," &c

^^ I wat weel I was thinking sae,*' say^ Candlem^—
« Hand to the door, John Currie I"

When the question was put to Meggie, she bow^
assent like a dumb woman, but this did not satisfy
Willie Candlem.«-<« What for d'ye no answer, Meg-

^ofiD eaxBsj^wm^^ • m : 9S^

gtel>** fayftAe.i <^Dkiiia y^lwir whaif ^Aeifeoi^rffl^ji^
speering at ye ?" dji;^i>

In due time Willie Candlem and Meggie bad a 8on»
and as the custontdMn wjap^it^ VIA decreed that the
first Sabbath after he was bom he should be bapt^ed*
It mk about the Martinmaa timai tJbe day ^ff^/^^qrmy,
iii^d'the'wan^T flooded ; howewt, ii wa9 $fffi^^f3^^^e
ba^m could not be put o£P> for fear ^ thiitfj^f|l|^;ii90
thi^babe i^as well rolled up in awaddliiig .otoibo?^ Kpd
laid on before his father on the white ingFe^mftb&iStOttt*
tiBit of the kimmers stemming, the water Qn^fQ)9|4>>*Wil-'
HiijGandlem rode the water «lowly ,«nd jwMiqaisty.
Wbei^ about the middle oi the 8tream>,l^,Jidard 9 mpst
tifieanhly yelling and screaming riae :b<))npd JHua;
^ What are they aqueeUng at ?" said ha. t0 rhiw^^I^ J^t
dukt not look back for fear of his: chaoge^ (. v/Vfl^.be
hiid erossed the river safely, and a 8and«4>ed 9ifo^ bb
wide, Willie wheeled his white mare s beafi abcmtf-and
eSl^kimed— «< Why, the neer a haet I hae..bii|< the
sloii^h !'* Willie had dropped the child int<K|h^jflood^
e^ riVa*, without missing it out of the hugCL buMUe of
clothes ; but luckily, one of he kiinmen picked him upy
arid "As he dbowed some signs of life, they hurried inta
a house at Goosegreen^ and got 1dm brought round
again. In the afternoon he was so far r^bovered, that
the kimmers thought he might be taken up to church
for baptism, but Willie Candlem made this sage remark

t2^ THE SItBPBBRDS CAIiENDAB.

gotten eneugh o* the water for ae daofj^-r ^Qageng
home to hit poor vnitii hb firafe uddraet io^lier-was—
^ Ay^ ye HMy tehe n^ yoiir hMidy#ai:k»' Moggie, in
niiki<g a dovgfa open ot haith endii^ ^ ^ll^ift'ftigiiifieB »
tlnng thidWiOpett «t hohh eads ?*^

Another time^ in hanrept^'it camoa miaiT' day, and
theElinckhegantolookvevybig'iAlheeVieBaig. Wii-
Uo Candleatii'pecoeiTing-his erbp:ntdaiigev$> yoked' the
wfaite^naro in <he sledge, and was ^n^deediB^ to-lMd
hie com out of watermark; hiii'OtttiCttBB»ihfeggic^'aBd
began oxpoelnlatmg^wilh' Inm on Ae bkifi:dhieoa of <thcf
act,-— <f Put in 3ronp^heB8t again^ iiko a^^^ood Okiistian
nian» WiUie»'' said she, ^ and dinna be setting-an itt ex-
ample to m' the parish. Ye ken» ihat'thie t«» day the
minkterJl>ade os lippen to^ ProTidenee in onr atnit% and
we wad never me*t. Hell take it yery ill off your
handy the seltittg of sio an example on llie Lmti*s day ;
therefore, Willie, my man, take his adviee jmd ndne,
and lippen to FroTidence this time.**

WiltieCandlen was obliged to €omply> for who can
witlistand the artillery of a woman's tongue? So he
pnt np his white mare, and went to bed with a heaty
heart ; and the next morning, by break of day, when he
arose and looked out, behold the greater part of his crop
was gone.*— ^< Ye may take np yonr Providence now,
Meggie \ Where's yonr Providence now? A' down

OX^D CHARACTEBa^ 229

the water wi* my corn I Ah 1 1 wtid trust ni«ir to my
gnde white mare than to ywx and Proyidence baitii !"
Meggie answered him meekly, as her duty and cus«
torn wa8w« O Willie I dinna rail at ProTideiice> but
down to the meadow-head and chitm ^nU** ' Willie
Candlem took the hint, galloped ' on hie wUte mare
down to the Ettridk meadows, over wfaieh the river
spread, and they were. «OTered with floating sheaves;
so Willie began and hauled out, and carried out, tiD he
had -atileast six 'times as muchxom^rhehad lost. At
length-one maa'Came^ andbanotiiei^. bm Willie refused
aU partition of the spoiL :^ lAy,; ye may idee up your
cen^fumr w^Mse .ye can; -flndit^ lads," said Willie ; ^' I
kcppit nana bat my 4iin»- . lYoiirs. is ganvfturther down.
Hadye'^amewhett Ixame; yemi^-bave keppit it a*.*'
So'WilisB drove «nd drovey til) thestMkyard was fnlL
- « <> I ihink'tfae crop hasriura^d no Aat ill ouTafter aV
said^Meggie• rM You've Iteenjiaertbe wamrti* tmstmg
to iVcm&dence.'*

: ^ Na,r. rejoined Wiilie^^^ iioi«ot':taking'yo«r'Bdvice,
Meggies and ganging -down^ to- kep aad^vkin 'tttthe
meadow-head."

KANCY cmSHOLM.

850 THE SaBPHBVD's CAUUCDAR.

• ■ » ■■".■.. ■ I •.'-.•.«: i I'j;"' ■•■ f I,, vouv-

' • •-

■ , ' ■ . • !■» iM»'

CHAPTER VIII. n

.. ■' . ■*••.■ ■ ' >j?/-

: ' * • J " '»?>-»

John Chisholm, fSum^r of MooTkggaii,'*fms( in
the early part of his life, a wealthy and highly Tee|M6-
table man, and associated with the best gentknen^
the country ; and in those days he was accoimted <ib
be not only reasonable, bnt mild and benevolent iflD#B
disposition. A continued train of unfortonate 8pe«ll^
latioiis^ however, at last reduced his circnmstanoes bo
much, that, though at the time when this tale oomr
mences, he still continued 6<4rent, it was well enough
known to all the country that he was on the brink i>f
ruin; and, by an unfortunate fatality, too inherent in
human nature, still as he descended in circumstances,
he advanced in pride and violence of temper, until his
conduct grew so intolerable, as scarcely to be submit-
ted to even by his own family.

Mr Chisholm had five daughters, weU brov^it up,
and weU educated ; but the second, whose name was
Nancy Chisholm, was acknowledged to be the most

beautiful and accomplished of them all. She was so
buoyant of spirits, that she hardly appeared to know
whether she was treading on the face of the earth, of
bounding on the breeze ; and before Nancy was eighf
teen, as was quite natural, she Was beloved by the hand-
^mest lad in the parish^ whj^s^ plover Christian name
was Archibald Gillies, but who, by some patronymic ot
designation of whg^ import I am ignorant, was always
called Gillespick.

Young Gillies was quite below Nancy ia rank, al'*
though in circumstances they #ere by this time- much
the same. His father being only a small sub-tenant of
Mr Chisholm's, the latter would have thought his cldld
degraded, had she been discovered even speaking to
the. young man« He had, moreover, been bred to. the
profession of a tailor, which, though an honest oecupa-
tion, and perhs^ niore lucrative than many othars, is
viewed, in the country places of Scotland, with a degree
of contempt far exceeding that with which it is regard-
ed in more polished communities. Notwithstand-
ing of all this, Gillespick Gillies, the tailor, had the
preference of all others in the heart of pretty Nancy ;
and, as he durst not pay his addresses to her openly,
>or appear at Moorlaggan by day, they were driven to
-an expedient qidte in mode with the class to which
Gillies belonged, but as entirely inconsistent with that
propriety of conduct which ought to be observed by

8S8 THE 8nEPHEIlD*8 CALENDAR.

yomig ladies like th<Me of Moorlaggaa— they met by
It ; that IB, about night-fiill m Bommer, and at the
hour in winter, which Biade it very late in the
night.

Now it nnlnckily had so h^pened, that Gilliei^ the
yonag dashing tailor, newly airiFed from Aberdeen*
hady at a great wedding the preTions winteri paid all
hU attentions to Siobla, Nancy's ddest sister. This
happened, indeed, by mere accident, owing to Nancy'i
many engagements ; bnt SioUa did not know that ;
and Gillies, being the best dancer in the bam, led her
to the head every time, and behaved so coarteonsly,
that he made a greater impression on her heart than
she was willing to acknowledge. As all ranks mingle
at a country wedding, the thing was noted and talked
■of| both among the low and high ; but neither the high
nor the low thought or said that young Gfllies had made
■a very prudent choice. She was not> hoivever, the
•tail<nr's choice ; for his who].e heart was fixed <m.beT
sirter Nancy.

The two slept in one chamber, and it was impossi-
ble for the younger to. escape to her lover without
confiding the secret to: Siobls, which, therefore, she
was obliged to do ; and from that moment jealousy-—
for jealousy it was, though Miss Siobla called it by an-
other name— began to rankle in her elder sister's bo-
som. She called Gillies everydegradingname she could

KAlfCY cmsHout i3S

imrent^'-^-r profligate, a fibertme,^-4aid to siim up' all,
she <adied hiin a tailor^ the^f finiafaiitg the sum of
degeneracy, and crowning the climax 6f her re-
proaches*

Kaney i>ira8, neverdielesB, exceedingly happy with
her hiAdsome lover, who all bnt adi>red her. Shcr
enjoyed faia company perhaps the more on' two ac-
counts, one of'which she ml^ probably deduce from
the worda of th^ wise man, that ^stolen waters are
sweei, and bread eaten in secret is pleasant ;** bnt an<«
otheir most certainly was, that Gillies haYCQg opened
her eyes to the true state of her fathei^s aifeirs, and by
tldaled her to perceit^e that she was only <^ apennyleea
lass wl* a lang ^digree,^ she could not help drawing
tfaecmichision, ^at the isSlor was as good as ishe^ and
that Ae course she was taking,^ beddes b^g very
agreeable to her o^vm wishes, was ^ moat prudent
that^uld be conceived.

This itifbrmation preymg en Nancy's mind, she
could not help communica^g it kt confidence to one
of her sisters, {Siobk, it Is to be suj^pesed,) who, be*
liieving the report to be a maltdkiuff fals^ood, went
straight to her iather with 1^ new% as soon as htf
arrived from the markets Some vexatioua occurrences
connected with his depressed fortunes, had put hini
sorely out of humour that nighty and he had likewise
been drinking a good deal, wUdi BEiade matters worse ;

tS4 * THS sHsramD*i» causkdaa.

tolhil wiiea SioblaiiilMiiMd lam^tAhmoQnBtgyjm
vaimtf'limX bb was abmtt t* become. a liankr^ity In.
Ivy -rose to n noywrernnyo^ pitch, mtdy. n\wm%\Mab
by the amii he adjured her forthwith tm-mumt hta K
fonuer, against whmn he at the Baine.4iaaa ■ *rcmtd Ae
flMMtconaanunateveageance. Hkdaof^itea'xaafiigktA
enedy^'tad widMnit hesitatioa told hiaiithai^ the hd
leaittttbe report from her aister Nancy. Nanc^waialM
▼ovrHe with old Chiahohn, hut that drcmnstaiieetaeeifti
ed only to inflame him the more; that one aa anBh
ehenshed and beioTed should make heiaelf roi^ta;i^i[yif»«>
tal m. breakkig his credit> was, he tho«ght> 9L»da§najd
iapalitode that justified his sOFerest reaeactiiieaiy sad
with a countenaiice of the utmost linrjr^ ha:>tpnied>4il
hefv ind demanded if what he had h&ead waa rtni^
With a iiftce as pale as death, - and traaib]ni|r Ups, jha
aeknowledged that it was. Bf|t whai^ 4^«ipd>to>aaiaf
her informer, she remained silent, trembled, and YnfU
On being Ituther tinged, and thiealmud, <8le ieatd,ih^-
tatingly, that she did not invent theiStDcgM- .-aadaiip*
poiedahe had heard it among the aaDv^uti,^ ,ji:^ ./
^ <<ThiB will not do, miss," exclaimed hnr litfifiri
KleU me at once thename^afiyonr iafenneil;-aiid de-
pead^'upon it, that person, whoevar it as^th^fiub^litai
ne^^'beto'jboni* «>. /*« *(t-a -jji »***.»•» i>-'»Ltitr

Nancy could not answer, hut nnbhnd niidiWiir|iri in
, ' Jait^aMhat imlud^ moraeni, a^/whistla waavhean}.

haxcy cBSsaoiMt ■•... 239

franiytfae J wood* opposite the i^princkrvr* IdUft WM^i^opf
tioed by Mr Cbisholmy \i^ ^looked, » Ultler.^sta]:^^^
and enqaiied wliat or <wW it >was ; bui no oneigaYO

hiflnaay «Mwer. ..:;> /

it Ittd been settled betweon tiie two hvwcnf thM
)diba Oiliiet name to see Nancy, he wia.to.whkde
from a certain apot ia a oertaiii maimer^ wUe aba
was to; open the window, and hold the. light doaa^ to
the filaaafor an instjEmt, that being the teka[i.that4bA
beard aadundentood the signaL . In tko; present; djb*
lemma,, the performanee of her part iof the agreem^i
waaitqpmoti£ab&» ^ and, of conrBe, wben:«il<|.Chiriioli»
was. once 'more rinng into a paroxysiQitfC i«gQ aJi )m
jtoghtBft the Qpinona whistle was rajKiatodt. > . it »»
>.^What It tUs?'* demand^ he,.iB^^^ pemaptf^ry
tone*' .^Xett ma: instantly ; fo^ I %ei9 by yow; loofas
yoiLknow and Badentaai whf^t it isw Siobhi*- dp ymk
jflsew/">i> • J- ■..■».• o 'I v.-i".

. <c4^Ye%Ida,VnpKed.Siobla. <ajaMiWWe)Lenoi^
wjiatiiis^rn^danot hearitsoaeM#m«>V i. ; .r< 'ik:-
<^ Well, then, inlorBi nie at onoe what itimeiAs^r-aMd

ii^itiB.liBJivfB sweetheart coma tOt.srbistlaJier.'ant
.^yoliiig taijor Gillies f an9wered Siohl% without nay
endeavour to avert her father's writtbi by.gi^Qng. tim
infoA^tatiOB'ki an hudiiect way* . ivit i-.-. c. -n^iu"'
: i^Ohe i la it Ana,?? asdaimdllihe. ioimmi, fa-

tS6 THE SHJIEPUERD S CAUSSDAtt.

iher. ** And NaacyiiwayB answetB) and attendi to
thkandacioiis taildr^i wiustl^ does she ?"

.^ Indeed she doe% sirtgenerallf once or twice eveiy
week," replied the young womauy In the same wiQing
ttme.

<< The secret is then outl^ said oki C^iyiolm, is
wordi tbit (pMYered with anger* ^ It is plain fh>m
whence the unjurioas report has hem attained I Too
fond iather I alas, poor old mto ! HttTeinattas al-
ready come thos low with thee ? And hast thott indeed
■oarished and cherished this fardatite child, giving her
aa education fitting her for the highest rank in society,
and all that shen^t throw herself away i^<m a — a—
a tailor l-^Begone, girls I I nrast ccmTerse with this
degraded creatni^ alone."

When her sisters had left the apartm^t, Nancy
kne^ty weptf prayed, and begged* forgiF^aess ; but s
temporary distraction had banished her father's reasdni
and he took hold of her long fair hair, wound it round
his left hand in the roost methodical manner, and begu
to. beat her with his cane. 8he uttea^ a scream ; on
which he stopped, and told her that if she uttered an^
other sound before he had done chastising her, it should
be her last; but this causing her to scream only ten
taaes loader he beat her with such violence thi^ be
shivered the cane to pieces. He then desisted, call-
ing her the ruin of h^ sisters, of himself, and all her

KANGY CHISHOLM, QS1

father's house ; opened the door,, and was about to de^
part and leave her, when the tailor's whistle again
sounded in his ears, louder and nearer than before.
This, once more drove him to madness, and seizing a
heavy dog-whip that hung in tiie lobby, he returned
mto the parlour, and struck his dau^ter repeatedly in
the most unmermfol mannei*. During the cenelnding
part of this: horrid scene, she opened not her month,
but eyed -her ferocious parent with composure, thinking
she had nothing but death to expect from his boids.

Alas ! death was nothing to the pangs she then suf-
fered, and those she was doomed to suff^^r I Her fa«
ther at last ceased frdm bis brutal treatment, led her
frop the house, threw her from him, with a curse, and
closed the door with a force that made the casements
of t(ie. house clatter.

There never was perhaps a human bdoig- whose dr-
ctpnstances in life were as suddenly changed, or more
deplorable than Nancy Chisholm's were that night.
But it was not only her circumstances m life that were
changed :. i^e felt at once that the very nature within
her was changed also, and that from being a thing of
happiness and joy, approaching to the nature of a seraph,
she was now converted into a fiend. She had a cup
measured to her which nature could not endure, and its
baneful influences had the instant effect of making ha:

THE 81I£PHBIU>*S CAUSNDAll.

ikhor her dim nature, and become a reM to afi te
ttfflder ^laafities.

' "The first resolatioa she formed was that of frilad
Miple revenge. She determined to make sncli adteiid-
M retaliation, as should be an example to all jetton
^^tsters and onnataral parents, while the world lasiaL
Her plan was to wait till after midnight, and thee «et
6e to the premises, and bum her fiatiier, ber siMeny
^and an that pertained to them, to adies. In littleiMK
than an instant was her generoos nature so forakered,
that she exulted in the proi^ct of this horrid Ottis-
Jffophe.

With such a purpose, the poor Wretch w^it aodidd
henelf until all was quiet ; and there is no dodbt ibat
ibe would have put her scheme in ej[ecuti(m^ had it
not been for the want of fire to kindle the house; for
as to going into any dwelling, or seeing the face of an
acquaintance, in her present degraded con^tkMi, her
heart shrunk from it ^o^ after spending some honis
in abortire attempts at raising fire, dbe was obliged to
depart, bidding an eternal adieu to all that she had hi-
'therto held dear on earth*

On the approach of daylight, she retii^ into a
tliicket, and, at a brook, washed and bathed her bloat-
ed arms and face, disentangled and combed her yellow
hair with her fingers, and when she thought she was
unobserved, drew the train of her gown over her head,

NANCY CHISHOLM. 839

tlbid sped away on her journey, whither she kaeW nqt.

No distinct account of her escape, or of wba^ became

4»f hsr for some time, can be gfiren ; but the whole bent *

*of her mclinations was to do eyil; she felt hariielf

s impelled to it by a motive she could not account for,

/ikut which ^ehe had no power or desire to rei^istr .She

jIbIi it as it were incumbent on her always to retaliate

:^«y3 for good,— the most fiendish disposition that the

.«4aviunwL heart could feeL She had a desire that the

^ .JByilOne would appear in person, that she might enter

.into a f<»rmal contract to do evil. She had a longmg

to impart to others some share of the torment she had

■tlien^f endured, and missed no opportimity of inflict-

.ji^ilig Buch* Once in the course of her wanderings, she

•itn^ti in a sequestered place, a little girl, whom she

^vseiiedy and beat her << within an inch of her life,'' as

-,-elie catted it. She was at this period qidte a vaga-

•bond, and a pest wherever she went.

The manner in which she first got into a place was
not the least remarkable of her adventures. On first
coming to Aberdeen, she went into the house of one
Mr Simon Gordon, in the upper Kirkgate, and ask-
ed some food, which was readily granted her by the
housekeeper ; for, owing to her great beauty and su-
perior address, few ever refused her any thiug she askr
ed. She seemed little disposed to leave the house
again, and by no means could the housekeeper prevail

r

t40 THE shepherd's causkdar.

upon her to depart, unlaas she were admitted to speak
with Mr tjordon.

This person was an oU hachdor, rich and miseily';
and the housekeeper was terrified at the very idea of ac-
kaowledgiDg to him that she had dispoeed.of the kaat
mofsel of food in charity ; far less dared she allows
meadicant to canry her petition into her master's Tery
presence. But the pertinacity of the individual she had
now to deal with fok-ly overcame her fean, and she
carried up to Mr Simon Gordon the appalling nes-
8^;e, that a << seeking woman," that is, a begging wo-
man, demanded to speak with him. Whether it was
that Mr Simon's abhorrence of persons of that cast was
driven from the field by the audacity of the announce*
ment, I cannot pretend to say ; but it is certun that
he remitted in his study of the state of the public
funds, and granted the interview. And as wonders
when they once commence, are, for the most part,
observed to continue to follow each other far a time,
he not only astounded the housekeeper by his ready
assent to let the stranger have speedb of him : but the
poor woman had nearly sunk into the groimd with
dismay when she heard him, after the interview was
over, give orders that this same wanderer was to be
retained in the house in the capacity of her assistant.
Here, however, the miraculous part of this adventure
stops; for the housekeeper, who had previously been

NANCY CHISHOLM. 241

a rich old miser's only serrant, did, in the first place,
remonstrate loudly against any person heing admitted
to share her labours, or her power ; and on finding all
that could be sud totally without effect^ she refused
to remain with her master any longer, and immediate-
ly departed, leaving Nancy Chisholm in full possession
of the premises*

Being now in some degree tired of a wandenng un-
settled life, she continued with Mr Gordon, testifying
her hatred of the world rather by a sullen and haughty
apathy, than by any active demonstrations of enmity ;
and what was somewhat remarkable, by her attention
to the wadts of the peevish and feeble old man, her
master, she gained greatly upon his good- will.

In this situation her father discovered her, after an
absence of three years, during which time his com-
punctious visitings had never either ceased or dimi-
nished from the time he had expelled her his house,
while under the sway of unbridled passion. He never
had more heart for any thing in the world. All his
afi^rs went to wreck ; he became bankrupt, and was
driven from his ample possessions, and was forced to
live in a wretched cottage in a sort of genteel penury.
But all his misfortimes and disappointments put to-
gether did not affect him half so much as the loss of
his darling daughter ; he never doubted that she had
gone to the home of her lover, to the house of old

VOL. II. L

US THE mKfm«ff» QAIilEKDAR.

Gillies ; and tUi belitf was. ens ^tiiat cairied great
bitterness to his heart Wlien he discoTered that she
had never been oeen there) hie next temxr wml that she
had committed suicide ; and he trembled niirht and
day, anticipattpg all the honid ahapefr in. which he
might hear tjbat^the despeca^ act ba^ been acc<nn-
plished. When the dread of thia begsua^taiwear away,
a still more frightful idea arose to haunt lua' doubled
imagination — it was that of his once beloved child dri-

If^eif b^ a^.)a^t;«et put^witb,^.fo^i^ii ^t^il^^

yl,^ i*^pjHnfta.tp»,*iAt.oC;th# 99mm^^^^m0
i^h^9X length. di9CQF9i;^.hf c,j|[^<lil^ l|(^^9ed«| WtS'
XHgp ifl,vi4t.i^j thq^b, h^^tolftrilff)I|S«b(|lf fcfiRbe^lR^

bBtf>m^^/lh^ ^w^ Mlif}f»ijin|«|fc^Sti^ft,,^^Wjff and

' XAKCY GHKflffOMr. $43

. i-lWKkMtiiiy wajifLtlielfghtof 4ay,

And the nutes of heav^a I will never won.

rt\T iltmat al|^ would part fgrnBtay Imndng beut^ . .
Or one tear would rise in mv thirsty eye,
" ' 'Through wo and pain it niight ooine again— "
'): ' . -i: - The aouL tint Aedy from^dtep btjnrj-.. «

In one hoiur of grief 1 would find relief^
>^ ivii f. . />' Ona ftogfii sonow would eass my pdm ;
Bvt joy or wo, in this world below.
1 can nerer never know again !

'WMiiB^she ii»te thas engKged, old Cinsbohn, with an
tl^ikt^d li6iB9rt told trembliiig finone, knocked gentty at
^ dodi'i wliich"was slowly and carelessly opened Ky
}iitfidkd^\iif;idt she performed etery thing sb if she
fiMi&^i6»ei/h'b^it The two gazed on one anothM'
for a moment, without speaking ; bat the eyes of tho
IKQfa'^WeM'b^itti^g with love and tenderness, while
tlUM^^jMeidatf^^itetbad that glazed and joyless^gleam
ii^fai^ Miy^vM^' bespoke hei' hardened spM The old
idiyb^i^^ 6iftl^ arififlf to embrace her ; but she t
&ff'^M ttp<Af iitm. He retired again to his poor
IMgteillfS, firMrirtiencef fae'sent her a letterfravght whh
tenderness and iiotih»tr,-^whSdl pr^need ManaWer/
t'^'^l»»«^<Witii^aiioliiar besides her fitther MM' bad
"fbb^'ter^'^rie^'befete ilnbi' ^e, ilioilgfa he had n«ter
ventured to make himself kUtfWiK t6 hei* ; and iiMP^m
her former lovi^j f^illeq^ck GigUjieSi jdfe tailor. He
had traced Imii^^iifhtr^^mLiikdug^mtd though h

9H THE 8HEPiiSB|>*S CAUBNDAR.

had been once his intntioii to setde in Edmlniigfa, yet
for her sake, he hired himself to a great clothier tnd
taflor in the city of Aberdeen. After her father^s in-
efiectnal application to her, yonng Gillies ventared to
make his appearance ; bat his veceptioB waa far from
what he hoped. She was embarrassed and cold, at-
taching blame to him for ewery tlmigv particularly for
persuading her ont to the woods by night, which had
been the means of drawing down her father's anger
upon her. He proffered all the reparaticm in his power ;
hot she wonld not hear him vpetlk, and even fmMiB
him ever to attempt seeing her again.

The tailor s love was, bowever, too de^ly rooted
to be so easily overcome* He woidd not be aakd nay,
but waited upon her evening a^d ipoming'*; still she
remained callous and unipqved» notwithslandnigof all
his kind attentions.

The frame of her spirit at this pmtfd mnat hate
been an anomaly in human nature; she knew no fa^
piness, and shunned, with the utmost pertinacity, every
avenue leading towards its heavenly abrine* fiheoAii^
said afterwards, that she b^eved her father e rod- had
beat an angel out of her, and a deinon into its place.

But Oillefipick, besides being an iiffeetionii^ HM
faiAful lover, was a singularly acute yOitfhi He-4okl
this perverse beauty again and agion that ishe wais ac-
knowledged the flower, of sH Ab^idiocffii.'affvitig n.Miss

NANCY CHISHOLM. 245

Marshall, who sat in the College Churdi every Sun-
-day, to whom some gentlemen gave the preference ;
and then he always added, ** But I am quite certain
tliat were you to appear there dressed in your hest
style, every one would at once see how much you out-
shine her." He went oyer thi^ so often, that Nancy's
vanity hecame interested, and she proffered, of h&c
own accord, to accompany him one day to the College
Kirk.

From ihe time that Gillies got her to ent^ the
chm:ch-door again, although she went from no good
motive, he considered the victwy won, and counted
on the certainty of reclaiming his beloved from des-
pair and destruction. All eyes were soon turned on
her beauty, but hers sought out and rested on Mary
Marshall alone. She was convinced of her own su-
periority, which added to the elegance of her carriage
and gaiety of her looks ; so that she went home ex-
ceedingly well pleased with — the minister's sermon f

She went back in the afternoon, the next day, mud
every day thereafter; and her lover noted that she
sometimes appeared to fix her attention on the mkiia*
ter's discourse. But one day in particulars^ when he
wi» preaching on that divine precept, contamed in St
Luke's Gospel, ** Bless them that curse you, and psiy
for them which diBspitefully use you,*' die HMoMi d
the while enrapt by the most ardent feelings^ and

^ 0116 aioiiisnt took -her ey» from itenpaioBi^i iflir
lover perceived this, and keptliiB eyiea ateadfMlJly SgK-
ed ^n ker &C8* At last the'WFCBMid.id^nw^ his
>if»plication of this doctrine to* miona dhwaoteoiixpiait-
od her ofvm case hLsnoli a light thattt«a|>poaredd«mm
lironi luitiire. , He thea cspatiatedon thoij»w«9ldMld
faeaftoni^ joys oi Corgrfaiess with jmoh ardowr, noddi^
▼oCioDy that tears once^ more begaa.to bfiOfp^iQ Akj^
bright eyss, whose fountains seemed Ipng: to hvfe {i^
dried lip; and ere the preacher condhided, i^e^illlis
forced to hide her face^and^give freo rent U^i^fyii'
nigf, weeping abondaniljr. . .1 .lui

^ Her lover conducted her bome^ and: ^^immr^dt^k^
.id ^teeation in her manner towards>bim«; 1}^ <^i^
im^hei^searod and.faardeiMKl^nriiV^iraaMon^y

' than her frame conld brodu v < ISie lltaellidl|;^^)«hftlgfafi

4&> and she grew worse and werse;^ dfd]^,4,i^^9^l90ge

•.disease was hers^ for she was. sei««d ffiil^#l|»))^f§(||pd

ia;cepanxi7am% v^mucb romob^gdla^m^ifmm^

<adi(tf deyili^ in the dawnuAg «9C C%QiBliMM)il^ v;4l69I>*

> peajped exactly as if, a good^irit undM m^>iM%jS^
ioontendiogi.for the possession of h^r.^p^i^i^il^irll^

iitcbeinacle^none of the medicid fiMmltyJ^illg>^^to

"'^iceoiint £9r>> these eixtraordinary changf^iAt^^a Mtl'&^

'^ ^way« Harlover hireda siok-nnrstf^v wh^atteiuj^feotb

on^ber and the oldjooyaiv which pl^i8«4^Mte<>Weil)

^Hd, ha tboiight diaiB'Wn ii«tiBiicli:a^.iiimi>w <he ^
4dI j^Wrdeenas the ynimg tailcnr. ....,, ...^ v^mi
JUanefs diMaae^vms «ib length •mastened^.tetiit Mi
Itor^fMible' and enuKaoted, and Cbobl 'that. -tune f^ij^b^
^te showed heiB6l£iuidGML^ait'4iltflred»wooitfi» ^jiXlie
fmt^ divine whafirdt c^ned hetieye»;4*.hart4)^t
toflditiMiy httd Tkhcd her fJDeqoently.ia.hfc. mokiiM^
iButfd Mpealed his exhortadona* ' Jiei/lover. waitfiAi^n
h^ every day; and not only this^ b«t /hdngv 9»]ik^
fore ohaervedy an acnte yonthy he oanied to* itha hM9e
with him cordials for the old nnsei^ and told or^iead
him the news from the Stock Exchange^ ; i . Naacy,w»8
now atttodbed to GiUespidc wilhtheniQst^rdenl and
fMri^ affection, and more deeply than in her early days
•Offte^and^thonghdessneas; fornowherloYetaiiNrd
liiiil waa mellowed hy « ray Irom heaven^ iln. lew
'mis6sf^th&f were martied. Old l^oMm Gordon dfed
'lihWiy after, and left diem more lliaa half his fovtieie,
''MiMnlhig', it was said, to L»l 1,000^ » picoe of ^eie-
''toidty t<^!Wliich he was moved, not only by the atten-
'^ ildtf l^dwn him m his latter days by the yoaag^peir,
■f^ti ad'fae espteiised it in hie will^ << being 'OOQ.vinoed
-'^^bm^ GMllies would ti^ cane of the money^*^ >^ iTUa^e-
' gicy waa a great fortane for an Aberdeaa tailos )and
dotMdr. He boeght the hall of hie nunlfer'a^i^ick
- and bittiiMBiiB, and in • conseqiieiice ofvaeitifidaniiilynaiid J

' •1

248 THE shephebd's calendar.

navy oantneCi, Teelbed a veiy large fmrtttne in a ttort
time* ' ' '

Old Cliiiliobn waB by tins tanatedvoed to abaoHrte
beggary; be lived aoaong his foaMr^eiiHbf liioqliagit-
aaoes, aoMetimes in the hall, Bamatiiiiea la tfe ]Mr«
kyoT) aa their good or bad hamoor prefrallbd. ffii
daagbtefa> likewise^ were all forced to accept aitna>
tiona at apper aemmts, .aad irere, ti conrac^ inery as*
happily piaoad, countenanced by to class, being too
prond to asaooiate with those in tbe atation to wlaA
they had IsHen. The company of k)Wl8nder8 tbUt bid
taken Moorlaggan on Cfaisholm's failnre, follow6d Us
example, and fmled also. The fanta was again ki the
market, and nobody to l»d any thing for it ; at lengA
an agent fnna Edinbnrgh took it for a ikii bidy^ il
half ^ r«at that had been paid for it befcM^e ; and
then every cme said, had old John Chi^iQlm h^Id h as
9ach a rent, he would have been the head of the conn-
try to that day. The whole of the stod^ and fttmi^
tare were bought up from the creditors, pud ih ready
money> and the discount returned ; aad a^ iJas tmis aH
done by the Edmburgh agent, no one knew who wais
to be the fmaeTf ^although the i^ephei'ds and ^servants
were hired^ and the business ot the farm vresA on is
before.

Old Chi^lm was at this time living in the houses
of a Mr Mitchell, on Spey, not far from Pitmain,

NANCY Cfil^OLM. 249

wh^ he received a lett^ from this same Edmbnrgfa
agents stating, that the new farmer of Moorlaggan
wa&ted to -speak with him on very important business
renting ta Abt farm ; and that all his expenses would
be paid to that place, and back again, or to what other
plate ia the country he chose to go« Chii^olm show-
ed Mr Mitchell the letter, who said, he imdmiBtood it
was to settle the marches about some diluted laud,
and it would be as well for him to go and make a good
chtt^ for his trouble, and at the same time offered to
acGOnmiodate him with a pony. Mr Mitchell could
noir spare his own saddle-horse, having to go a jour-
ney ; so he mounted Mr Chisholm on a small dbaggy
highland nag, with crop ears, and equipped with an old
saddle, -and a bridle with hair reins* It was the even-
ing of the third day after he left Mr Mitchell's house
before he reached Moorkggan; and as he went up
Coolen-aird, he could not help reflecting with bitter-
ness of spirit on the alteration of times wit^ him. It
was not many years ago when he was wont to ride by
the same path, mounted on a fine hcnve of his own,
with a livery servant behind him ; now bQ rode a little
shabby nag, with crop ears and a hair bridle^ and- even
that .diminutive o-eature belonged to mmtbe^jftn^iiifit
Formerly he had a comfortable home, and a
family to welcome him ; now he had u» faeni^ imA
that family was all scattered abroad*. << AhiB 1" said

l2

960: THB smmKm» ^msup ab.

dad tbat die.nwkviM^ii* dyi7ai4^^i9mu%j9f|B#^^
4t 4lM ofiwbich be ia aalip^ied, 1h>A b^fe^e Gq^. and

d«)uig child I iWhuVlluiivo mSemAif^f:} hm h^m
^dywniii^.imdimtiwrd«iBl»t0r^ -.,;.. :, ; ,v ,yx
iiiiii tbb doiwcMk and qucndctts mckod jlid theiinim
tU)9isiiireikcb biaiiMmia^ bsA^italioib'AllAim ne^wA
thgwnt about the .places aad.tIiere>TBai»)* cbma^iaMfk
sag al theieod o£the borne* .Wbm-oJdr^Clfidii^hnim
llii% be did nolimatuse.i^ to> tbe fiMHitdfior> hmJt-tiiif^
iri^aiidied bia crop-eared pony, to iliie.iback^dqo^tt
jriwib be knocked, and Jha[vdDg^atatadi<tbe£jBnauid iiptti
iriadibaicaQiByWaa, after some deisjiv uaberodinto ^
presence of a courtly dame, wbo^eotatsd bim infMsmd
Mbdigiiifiad language «a lliUDWft^lM'^^ ..: n

.oi <f IT^tir. jaane ifr Idr Jobn GUahobaar I belaeire ?"
-id^. Iti^Diadani^ At:|toiir>8erneeJ')i> b -^^ jhp -». ..c n: ..
a94( ^d yoa wete imc^baxkbr^hso^Ji^heii^v^^^l^^
bow.) << Ay. Hem. And how did yoo. jiMberyonr
'•iJaiani? .jii,'i»-M;;.t>^ i.M .j^.^.^i^ ;iff«'^ ^-nj I j-^^ii/! •
u {^jXbisaiig^misfortaiieai^^ midami an^ i^tgiTOig tao
*IIUBcbiorfdititOiiQin£k9ent^artiobMi imb ji'iq^n ->.;.
<< Ay— -so I That was not pradMrfoi^oir^ta-giTe
so much credit in such quactei»^£bif'rii

•'i,'l r

ploy you as factor or midiitg^rjof 'tl»efa'4aii»di^iur/lHy
kiuitaiiid'«nd< ^I ' miiM; Uira toi the - gt«»ler< >t>avi)Dfiliie
y«itr«»>ft ureaiidisUaiciiw Wt^ ai«n»tillk|^ tbfiTeiarf dcid
8ttlit)^;MttidtX bd4«re'tii^e'ifiriM>iaa|i «6i fir fol?^^^
poaei'^Biil:!! fia^hearel accowiU «f 'ysQiJlhat^Ijdo |Mit
Ittc^dnit yotturere aa kicsMabiifr tfiBivliiii i^x)«t 0v^
fam^yf aBii8ihg> and maltreating' t}ie -laosti ainlsdblQbtf
tiNpi Iiia4I^ vevf ittnadiy masiiieir. . Andy JOifeiT^ Uoo^
btitcXiibpe>iMit t^riidyv that-you drcrre on6 daa^hMto
diagiraes and UfeMiruelioiL'^ ^♦■'■.- - .'uro- *■ i..- ...i/r ><id')cj •

Here Cliisholm4i»)«diliil9 iM^lwvrai^sl^
burst into t^atsiandisaid) hekbpM edielilidiniitts^nt for
a miserable and degraded :^ld*>ttiaa 4xinitbiJtiir6!ifaLt feel<^
logs by^^^obiiJgrthode^^voiBidfriof dBa" sou^ iluMt were

<< Nay, I beg your pardon, old gentleman, iugott
ioT you ts> 4^ yon a senrice. i tvvvonlyijtaeKticiung a
vile report that reiBdifed<(my'»eid^jjaibo]>0ii>yoa(bottid
«xtulpate\yoBrBriL'' r ; •..^,l '.;:'• n-tiT Nj< — -^A ■

" Alas, madaitv 1 49aaiiaktf?i ii>L'<' ixi ubt^v:^ ihuiti '-r

252 THB SHSPHKRD'S CAI.BMDAR.

«Dr«ulfii]! DnBidfiil! Father of heareii, could thy
ksad frame a being with feelingt Uke diis I B«tIliope
yon did not, as b reported^<*^Na-— yon could not— -yon
did not strike her, did yon ?*'

*< Alas ! alas I" exdaimed the agonised old maa.
. ^ What ? Beat her— -econrge her— 4hTow her from
yonr hooae at midni|^ 'with a father's carae npon ber
head?**

<«Idid! IdidI Ididr

«< Monster I Monster ! Go, and hide your deroted
aad execrable head in some cavern in the bowels of the
aarth, and wear out ihe remainder of your life in pray-
ing to thy God for repentance ; for thon art not fit to
herd with the reet of his creatines I"

^ My cap of sorrow and misery is now full," said the
old man as he tmned, staggering, towards the door.
'< On the very spot has this judgment fieJlen on me."
' << But stop, sir— -stop for a little space^" said the lady.
^ Ptthaps I hare been too hasty, and it may be p^
have repented of that unnatural crime already ?"

** Rq>ented I Ay, God is my witness, not a night or
day has passed over this grey head on which I have not
vepented ; in that bitterness of spirit too, which the chief
of sinners only can feel."

** Have you indeed repented of your treatment of
your daughter ? Then all is forgiven on her part. And
do you, father, forgive me too I"

NANCY GHISHOLM. 253

The old man looked down with bewildered vision,
and, behold, there was the lady of the mansion kneeling
at his feet, and embracing his knees I She had thrown
aside her long flowing veil, and he at once discovered
the comely face of his beloved daughter.

That very night she pnt into her Other's hand the
new lease of all his former possessions, and receipts for
the stock, crop, and furniture. The rest of the family
were summoned together, and on the following Sabbath
they went all to church and took possession of their old
family seat, every one sitting in the place she occupied
formerly, with Siobla at the head. But the generous
creature who had thus repaid good for evil, was the
object of attraction for every eye» and the admiration
of every hetfrt.

. This is a true story, and it contains not one moral,
but many, as evny true portraiture of human life must
do : It shows us the danger of youthful imprudence, of
jealousy, and of unruly passions; but, above all, it
shows, that without a due sense of religion there can be
no true and disinterested love.

<|5#b, THE SBEFVaafVOMVBSDAR.

llA •>: ' ' * ■ . '"r ■•■■' n ■.•■■.. 1 ...f <-j; uf T t'T'

■ M '!■ . ' • .• : '»•■■' ■■« • ■ r-'iV^'fl*' - ()*.

^«>11'! '■ . ' . '■/-.!:.'•?»• 'i; -,j* >'''«'(:n.<-

•• • • •'•■-«.-• J ,<;,•> ;Tjr-

SNOW-STORMS.

■V7<>I!> •• ■ ■ • - -..•■••• ^ ::< ■ f i«> >-f tf

.8mdw*8TORMS eonstatnte the vbriuM enis-of Ae)>tfii>^'
tUMftlife. TheyaretberedlmtBin thedbepliifiM^niio''
mrtM-tlw nemeiiibTanoeEB ef ydftn sbA a^m tlialPflifr
pM»'**4he tablets of meMory by wliMi'<die'^igei>iirMi1
chifalBBBy the timai of fak aweesiN^iaird tliB'vi«& wiit
ddwnfidl of fsBiniliesy are inyambiy aMier|lBUed;jTj;fiyeii^
tha^^iirogress of improveinent m Sooldi'iMii&g^^Cflmitie^'
trftMd-tnditknnUy frcmi tbesf^ Middie«^t o^iaxfttfUf
or eiMegiTea^th preciBk>ii;4>efoe andtlkiapsiiidi sad*
stick A stormy tfaongii the rattrator lie tmoertMiv Jtt ttiHl^
C6iit«ii|r Aeaaid notable storm iu^ipeiiedv^^'tVte^iriredrjv

and ^lim^ year the Hielaaden tiili/' me- UnriteOildM^
m—cntos to liie Year Nine alid Ae Y^ar^^Ftety-^j.) *
th^ atattd in i>]oody capitak inthe «tiDahr€ff*thcr]KUN
tohd^iife^ as well as many more that shall heftQttfter be>
mentioned. ^i» ^ -t « «

ISit most dismal of all those tm recard is the TNir-
te^BL' JMity Dayst This extraordbaty storm^ ms near

as I have been able to trace, mtist bare occaired in the ~
year 1660. The tradili(mary stories and pictures of de*
solation that remain of it,-are the most dire imaginable li
and the mentioning of the Thirteen Drifty Days to an
old shepherd, in a stormy winter night, never fails to
impress his mind with a sort of religious awe, and often
sets him on his knees befW thtft Being who alone can
avert such another calamity. <

It is said that for thirteen days and njghts the snow-.,
drift oievtriOBce abated — the ground was covered ivilb
frosen snow when it c(»nmenced, andduiittg all thir
time: ofistt oettttnuance the sheep never broke their f»aU
Tim oold was intense to a degiiee sever before rememsr
bered ; and about the fifth and siitth days of the stoomii;
thayoimgiaheep began tofaU into a sleepytmd tor^
sta<e^«nd all that were so affected in the evening died:
ovav4iight. The intensity oi the frost-wind often cwtt
them ifSf when in that state quite - instantaaeoui^yi'
About the ninth and tenth days, the shephenki begaor
torbuUd up huge semicircular walls of their dead^ is;
order to afford some shelter foe the living renudndec^
but audi. shelter availed little/for about the same tinsi.
theilY<^' ctf food began to be Mt so severely that they:
were^freijptently eeen tearing one another's wool with-
their teeth. '•> r

When the storm abated, on the Ibmteenth day iroai
its commencement, there was on' many ^ high4Jring'

266 THE shepherd's CAI.ENDAR.

fiuin not » fimg dieep to be teen. Luge miiii<ipfn
wiUa of dead, rarroimdiDg b nmll pnottiftle fiodt Ifo
wise all deed, and frozen stiff in tUr bdcs, vms^ all
that femained to the forlorn sbepberd and hm tam/bm;
and though on lQw*lyingfigmB,^db<re the aaow wasnot
so hard before the tempest began, maaaben of ihetf
weathered the storm, yet their cenatitatiQiia reeeifed
such a shock, that the greatOT part of tbem perished
afterwards ; and the final consequence wsa, thad aboat
nine-tenths of all the sheep in the South cf Scotland
were destroyed.

In the extensive pastoral district of Eskdale^mvir,
which maintains upwards of 20,000 sheep, it is said
none were left alive, but forty young wedders on one
fiirm, and five old ewes on another. The fain of Pfaaap
remained without a stock and without a 'tenant for
twenty yean after the storm ; and when at length one
very honest and liberal^niinded man ventured to take- a
lease of it, it was at the annual rent of ^ a grey coat
and a pair of hose \" It is now rented at £^0Q, J^m
extenmve g^ien in Tweedsmuir, now belonging to Sir
James Montgomery of Stanhqie, became a conunon at
that time, to which any man drove his flocks that,
pleased, and it continued so for nearly a c^tnrj^. Qn
one of Sir Patrick Scott of Tbirlestane's farmsi that .
keeps upwards of 900 sheep, they all died save one
black ewe, from which the farmer had high hopes of

SNOW-STORMS. 257

preserring a breed ; but some tinlucky dogs, that were
all laid i^e for want of sheep to nm at, fell upon this
poor solitary remioait of a good stock, and chased her
into St Marys Loch, where she was drowned. When
w(H^ of tfab was Inflight to John Scott the fanner, com<^
flsooly called Gonffing Jock, he is reported to have ex-
piessed Mmself as follows : '< Ochon, odion 1 and is
that this gate o't ?-^« black beginning maks aye a black
end.*' Then taldng down an old rusty sword, he add-
ed, ^^ Come thou away, my auld friend ; thou and J
maon e'en stock Bowerhope Law ance main Bessy,
my dow, how gaes the auld sang?-«*

There's walth o* kye 1* bonny BraidlMs ;

There's walth o' yo wes i* Tyne ;
There's walth o* gear i' Gowanbum^—

And they shall a* be thine. "

It is a pity that tradition has not preserved any thing
fartlier of the history of Gouffing Jock than this one
saying.

The next memorable event of this nature is the
Blast o' March, which happened on the 27th day of
that month, in the year 1724!, on a Monday morning ;
and though it lasted only for one forenoon, it was cal-
culated that it destroyed upwards of a thousand scores
of sheep* as well as a number of shepherds. There is
one anecdote of this storm that is worthy of being pre-
served, as it ^ows with how much attention shepherds,

858 THE shsprebdIb calendar.

at w^ M Mdkmi akmld obsttve the appetmactt irfihe
•ky. The previous Sunday emmisg #aa 8o WBiin tiat
Act lisftes irent iMme fireni ehiurcii barelboti and the
y^raog men ttxtew off their {lUdsand ooats^ tiAd ciitM
ttem over their shoolderB. A large groap of iImm
ytenkers, going home fitym tiie drarcb of Yatftw,
eqivipped in this manner, dianced to paaa hy an old
ahepherd on the farm of Newhonaey named 'Writer
Blake, who had all hn dieep gathemL to the aide ofta
wood. They asked Wattie, who was a very reSp&m
man, what conld have indaced him to gatiier his sheq)
on the Sabbath day? He answered, that h^ Imd iMa
an ill«hued weather-gaw that morning, and was afraid
it was going to be a drift. They were so mttdiamttted
at Watde*s apprehensions, that tiiey clapped' '€^
hands, and laughed at him, and one pert girl dried,
** Aye, fie tak care, Wattie ; I Wadna say bttlT h may
b6 thrapple deep or the mom.* Another askcl^- ^< If
he wasna rather feared for the snn bnming the een ^nt
tf their heads ?" and a ihkd, << If he didna ke^ a «or-
irespondence wi' the thieves, and ken they were t(> tide
that night?" Wattie was obliged to bear all diis, for
the evening was fine beyond any thing generally seen iX
Aiat season, and only said to them at parting, ** Wisely
Wed, callants, time will try a* ; let him laagh that wins ;
btit slacks will be sleek, a hogg for the howking ; well
a^ get horns to tout on the moivi.-' ^ llieflAyi^ grew

ixy wk^mavM, the, wbola «f )m -ftocfc,] r , i j ,. * ] / >{h

MKongthOi Aofcka of s^ieep^ IalJ^;latte^, tl^ sxiQ\^^)^y
^0i%;the sxiiddle pf Deee^ifaer uotil.thesH^dleQfi^B^y
md iffas all ll^fct timi9.bai^ fros^m^ Partial tfaf^^^rfi^
waya/ktp;(.ljbe farmer s Jbopes q£ r^lie^ aUye, an^.tb^a
I)|pev<?i>;tediliu;ft f^oi^i r^moyiptg his 8he^p,|tQ, |i,Jow(^.^i-
.j^io^i^ tiU.at.lej^igtb they grew ^o weajt th«kt they could
.§^ he remayed*. There has not been Buch a ^e|vei^
loss ill), (th^ days of any man liviog as in tli^t year^ Jt
4ft ijQr,jt^swi years that the severity of all subsequent

/^4.F^M^ 1^^ 1:^^^^^^^^^ also, of late^ by

. ibat of^ 1705 ; and when the balance tnms out in favour

o^^^e calculator, there is always a degree of thankful**

. i^jE^ssrex^essedy as well as a composed submission to the

« ftwaiH^ ofJDivine providence. The daily feeling naturi^*

IjT ii^ressed on the shepherd's mind> that all his coija-

foii^ wa, so enturely in the hand of Him iha^ rules the

.jQlen^i^ contributes not a little to that firm 8{^rit of de«

.Tiolipn for which the Scottish shepherd is so disti^gui^*

e^,.^li^Xifiw> of no scene so ii9pressiye^ as that of a^isi*

jfgpij sequestered in a lone glen during the time p^ a

;9mU^ atpnb; — and where is the glen in the kingdom

} . t)^t w^nl». siich a Jbabitation ? There they ar(^ left to

A^ |ifptectiflx> of Heaven ; a^d they know i^id feel it

960 THE SHEPHERD S CAI^ENDAB.

Throughout all the wild vidnitadeB of natore^ tfaef
have no hope of aaaistance from man, but expect to le-
ceif« it from the Almighty alone. Before retirii^ Co
rest, the shepherd uniformly goes out io ftYamiiwf iAk
state of the weather, and make hia rep(»t to tim iMe
dependent group within — ^nothing is to be seen but ihe
conflict of the elements, nor heard but the ravii^ of tte
storm— then they all kneel around him, \diilelM rcetf
mends them to the protection of Heaven ; and 'dioi^
their little hymn of praise can scarcely be beard ev«i
by themselves, as it mixes with the roar of tbe tempMt,
they neyer fail to rise iVom their deyotiona with tbck
spirits cheered and their confidence renewed, and go to
sleep with an exaltation of mind of which kings and ooi-
querors have no share. Often haTe I been a i^iaref 4b
such scenes ; and never, even in my yoiugast yean,
without having my heart deeply impressed by the cir-
cumstances. There is a sublimity in the very tdea^
There we lived, as it were, inmates of the cloud and the
storm ; but We stood in a relationship to the Ruler ol
these, that neither time nor eternity could ever canDd.
Woe to him that would weaken the Ixmds witb tvhieh
true Christianity connects us with Heaven and with
each other I

But of all the storms that ever Scotland witacnsod^
or I hope ever will again behold, there is non^of tbsfli
that can once be compared with that of the memorable

SNOWSTORMS. 261

night between Friday the 24di and Saturday the 2dth
of January, 1794. This storm fell with peculiar vio**
lence oa that ^visicm of the South of Scotland that
l]j0B between Crawlbrd'imiir and the Border, in these
beuBds seventeen shepherds perished, tod upwards of
thirty were carried home insensibly who- afterwards
recoyerod. The number of sheep that w^e. lout far
outwent any posfiibility of caleulatioo* OnJef fiEumec
alone, OMr Thomas Belittie, lost sjB^^enty^two seoresH-^
and many others, in the same quarter, firom thirty to
forty, scores each. Whole flodss' were orerwhelined
with snow, and no one ever imew where they were
till the snow was dissolved, and ^ey were all found
dead. I myself witnessed one particuHir instance of
this, on the farm of Thickside : there were twelve
sooner of excellent ewes, all one age, that were missing
all the time that the snow lay, which was only a week,
and no traces of them could be found ; when the snow
went away, they were discovered all lying dead; with
their heads one way, as if a floek of sheep had dropped
dead going from the washing. Many hundreds were
diiren into waters, bum^ and lakes, by the violence
of the storm, where they were buried or frozen Ttp,
and these the flood carried away, so that they were
never seen or found by ^e owners at all» The fdl**
lowiAg anecdote somewhat illustrates the confusion
and devastiktion bred in the country :-*-The greater

262 THE SUEf^XBlSfs'tA'L'ES1>AIL

ptrt <>f lite Hren <m irlmJ^ the dttfrtki was m^«t ilef^
itm iftto llie StItwKf Frhli, ^m wlilcb tli^^s id « flhte
Ctlldd ih^ Bech cf Esk, wh^M the tide tte-oWCr oti^
iitd letves whatevei' is tluni^ intd it l>y ili^' riti^
When the flood after the stomi ^btided> thare-^M^im
fatmd on thftt pkce, send ibe thoroB ftdj«een^-<^
thoittand «ght hundred atod forty thee^, nhuf \Mk
cftttle, three hofses, two men, one wottmn, feHy^i^
dogi, and one hnndred and eighty hares^ besi^l^'^
munber of meaner animals.

The anow lay a week on the ground, lihe ^Htw%B^
▼hig began on Friday, the Slat of Jtfmary; Sita»
registers that I hard seen, placethe d^1« oftlasiMo^
6n the ^4th of Dec^eniber, a monih too e^y ;*hitt''ftii
day was one of the finest winter' days rcre*"i4awi' ^*

To relate all the picrticnlar Scen^ of diiitfe^ iHllk
occtmred dnring ^is tremendous hnnicanfe'ii^hiipoiil-
ble— aTolnine would not cointahi ihyni; I ^tUSiiW^
Me, in order to git^ a tru^ pictm*^ df 'i'M'^ikiMy
^ei^ly i^kte what I s^w, atfd shdl'litiiolbii^'^bM^
tfeti. But before domg thfe, f nttist liieniSdn^l^Wf-
dumi^'c^, ctiHdus in its batun^^ and'cottiL<<tf^^^
biheH 'rfhat AftcfrWfti^s ocm^ii:- ' '' ' ^^^ r'^^^'
' Sbiiie thne heforfe that, i few y^rtin^' 8ftfepHfird^(W
wtfotnT i^Hk otie, and th^ ^ith^'^mi^ if^4e
liBfa6t'kMWt!<!^8, bf'ifae nuta^ %kd'foiii»^''i!MWh

»l u

a , ^^ifmr^^mn^ h^na 263

o^^ ; and after tha4, ev^ry essay waa mjja^ly jiif^^l;^*
gftlied and criticised- W^ met, i^ tb^ i^Fonv^, 9^d
co^tjam^om ituportaQt discussions. all iug|it„M^|Ji^y
t)^ 2^ of Januaiy wasi.the day.^pppini^ fq^ooie^x^f
Hik^^, meetings^ and it was to be held at ^teH^rpAy), a
i|4)d aia4 remote shieling, at tbe very souriii^fi^ of the
£ttcic)i^., I had the honour of being named presesT—
so, leaving the charge of my flock with vay master> off
If^tvfrimi Siackbouse, on Tbmrsday, a very iU day,
^i^^z flying bombastical essay in miy pocket, and
H^otOQglhe trained to many wise 9iid profomid remarks,
io^sat|;(9nd thi|i extraordinary m^tiiiig, tjiougb the place
ky a$ tbQ dbtfuace of twenty nuleS|. over the ^wjldest
}^ ip.^the;k]|^dQm, and the time the fl^tb of win-
l^^^^l^ .Trained that nigbt with my parents al^ Etitxick-
J||9^^> ;«ft4 pexi} ^y s^g^ set o^t, pn my.^omrney. I
f^jOot^thoweyeiv proc^ded for, before^. I perceived,
-^S^^Sbf i..p€Xceiyad,.8ymptpmf3,p)^ ^^proadiing
.i||9rpi,,^..tbat„pf n9 ordinary nature,, l.fi^ember
(ll^^^yrW^Hr; the. wind, whidb wa§^,:fpug!* W%. Pre-
ceding day, had subsided Wtp a di^^qilm.j t^^j^ was
l^>[4fg]^t^(^l ofi^i^pwi^ ^bich de8ce?[>4ed in^sflanfj^in
eflf^^^,^>^™«4 ^<tov^T anA r^l^,^ej^ as if
-fflWrt»ifr,j#e4i^i^ to. go, up^i^d or 4pw?i|raffd7-.the

z'

SS4 THE 8HBrSSBD*» GAXiEXDAR.

qff^btd togvtheiu^lyat o^theAwwt Aft Uki h W
Aijple lod flea«7 tppevEncf iijn^ akagvtboi^ I a0^
li(|ll«ldaday«ls«i^.glai0itty«iqpaol. (A tlmq^iftav
bigia to kitnide iudf on m% dwngh L«taa#ft.^fite
XxiNdd to 9eii|iut of iti that ttiwould bft-^wkqiwuMi
ia me to uptum iMUtne to ]iiy.akMp« IndinatiopDwiiMl
noon, and I tried to iHiny. itMunn to har • Md» bfikiq^*^
'mg to myaelfy <<I hove no reason in tbe worfal to be
a^faid of my abeep ; my maitBP taok><ihe charge of
tlNMH cheerfully ; there is notabetterishophirdinthar
Uagdom, and I cannot donbt his conciraa.in baTiaf
them right." All would not do ; I atood etili and
contemplated the day, and the more deadly I exami"
ned it, the more was I impi^ssed that aome mischief
was. brewing ; so, with a heary heart, I tnmed on my
heelf and made the best of my way hack the road I
came ; — ^my elaborate essay, and all my wise dhserrft-
tiooSi had been proTided in vauau ' ,<:

Pn my way home, I called at a-plaee named the
li^boufie, to see a matenml.imdo^'whom.I iovedi;
he was angry when hejsaw me, Imd said it waitfJuotlike -
a pi^ent lad to be running up aad^lomn: th^ ttaimtry^
in imch weather, and atL such a sflasom ;( andrtnged^me :
to mii]^e haste home, for .it would bo.'aiiirifeliefom«it.
m<>cnmg« He aeiHwaiWBmed motto tikjtop ogiWhdgh^

8]iaw-«Tosin. 265

called die Bbck Otehead, waaA m pttting) htAook
tm heady Mid Mttd, ^^Ahlit k s dwagchme^lookii^
dby ! la troA Fm amttBt fear'd to look at h."* I nid
I vimld BOt mkid it, tf iny one loew from wlmt f«ttr«-
ter the itonn would arise ; Imt we might, ki i^ likdi"
haody gather eior sheep to the place where Aef would
be most exposed to danger* He bade me keep a good
jook'Out all the way hom^ and wh«iever I observed
the first opening throngh the rime, to be 8ssm*6d -the
wind wonld rise directly from that point : I did as he
desired me, but the clouds continued closerset jail
ardund, till the fall of evening; and as the snow had
been accumulating all day, so as to render walking
Tery unfurthersome, it was that time before I readied
home. The first thing I did was to go to my m&ster,
juid inqtdre ' where he had left my ^beep. He told
,nle ; but though I had alfi^ys the most perfect con-
Adenee it his experience, I was not pleased wil^ what
he had done — he had left a part of them far too high
.o«t on the hills, and the rest were not where I would
ha?e had them ; and I told him so : he said he had
doB^ aU for the best, but if thore a]^>eared to be any
tjange^*, if I would cdl him vp in the morning, he
would assist me. We had two beautiful servant girls,
and with them I sat chatt^ing tall past eleven o'clock,
afid dben I W«Dt down to the Old Tower* What could
have tak^ me to that mittous halntatioii of the Blade

VOL. II. M

M6 THB8HBPHKBDSCAI<ENDA1U

DoMghinni At that vntiiiieaiia baar, I cannot recollect^

tal ii certainly nmst have been from a snpposition that

mm of the girls wonld follow me^ or eke that I would

aaa a hare — both Tery nnlikely erenta to hare takes

pboe on tmch a night. HoweTer, certain it i% thil

there I was at midnighty and it waa wluie standing (a

die top of the staircaie tonet, that I first beheld a

bright bore throngh the cloads, towards the north,

which reminded me of my ancle's waming abont the

pmnt from which the wind would rise. But at this

time a smart thaw had commenced, and the breese

aaemed to be coming from the sonth, so that I langfaed

in my heart at his prediction, and accounted it quite

abaonL^-Sbort was the time till awiid experience told

ne how tme it was I

I then went to my bed in the byre-loftt, where I
slept with a neighbonr shepherd, named Borthwick;
Imt though fatigued with walking through the snow, I
could not close an eye, so that I heard the first bunt
of the storm, which commenced between one and two,
with a fury that no one can conceiye who does not re*
member it* Besides, the place where I lived being
exposed to two or three ** gathered winds," as they sie
called by shepherds, the storm raged there with re-
doubled fiiry. It began all at once, with such a tremen-
dous roar, that I imagined it was a peal of thunder,
until I felt the house trembling to its fouodatiiHi. In

SNOW-STORMS. 267

a few miirates I thrast my naked ami through a hole
im the TOof| in order, if possible, to ascertain what was
l^oiog on without, for not a ray of light could I see. I
coidd not then, nor can I yet, express my astonishment :
So completely was the air oveiioaded with falling and
idriTing ^low, that, but for the force of the wind, I
ielt as if I had t^ust my arm into a wreath of snow.
I adeemed it a judgment sent from Heayen upon us,
WDid went to bed again, trembling with agitation. I
4ay still fol* about an hour, in hopes that it might prove
'•nly a temporary hurricane ; but, hearing no abatement
«f its forji I aWakened Borthwidc, and bade him get
t^ for it was come on such a night or morning, as
siever blew from the heavens. He was not long in
obeying, for as soon as he had heard the turmoil, he
-fltarted from his bed, and in one minute throwing on
fab diOthes, he hastened down the ladder, and opening
the door, remained for a good while, utteiing excla-
.mations of astonishment. The door where he stood
was not above fourteen yards from the door of the
' 4welling-house ; but a wreath was already heaped be-
tween them, as high as the walls of the house— and in
-trying to get round or through this, Borthwick lost
himself, and could neither find 'the house nor his way
back to the byre ; and about six minutes after, I heard
him calling my name, in a shrill desperate tone of
voice, at which I could not refrain from laughing im-

1166 THE SHEPHERD S CALENDAR.

t«ly» Aotwitbttonding the dismal prospect, thit
k]f' before uk I lieard from his cries where he wa&
He hm\ trm\ to make his way omer the top of a hrp
ihungbilU l*ut going to the wrong side, had fallen OTer,
iiMl wreatled long among snow, quite over the head.
I did not tliink proper to move to his assistance, bat
lay still, and shortly after, heard him shouting at the
lttldiau*4loor for instant admittance. I kept my bed
for about three quarters of an hour longer ; and then
fOfe, ami on reaching the house with much difficulty,
loQiid our master, the ploughman, Borthwick, and the
two servant maids, sitting round the kitchen fire, with
looks of dismay, I may almost say despair. We all
agr^ at once, that the sooner we were able to reach
iha sheep, the better chance we had to save a remnant;
and as there were eight hundred excellent ewes, all in
OM lot, but a long way distant, and the most Taluahle
lal of aity on the furm, we resolved to make a bold ef-
tot to reach them. Our master made fismily worship,
m duty he never neglected ; but that morning, the man-
aar in which he expressed our trust and confidepoe
in Heaven, ii*as particularly affecting. We took our
bfeak&st — filled our pockets with bread and cheese—
•awed our plaids around us — tied down our hats with
naplrins coming below our chins — and each taking a
•troi^ staff in his hand, we set out on the attempt.
No sooner was the door dosed bdund us than we

SNOW-STORMS. 269

lost sight of each other ; seeing there was none-^^it^was
impossible for a man to see his hand held up befere
him—and it was still two hours till day. We had no
means of keeping together but hj fdUowing to one
another's voices, nor of working our way save hf gvo-
jjing before us with our staves. It iaoo^ appearl;d to
me a hopeless concern, for, ere ever we got clieiar of
the houses and hay-stacks, we had to roll oursel^*^
over two or three wreaths which it Was impossible to
wade through; and all the while the Wind and drift
were so violent, that every three or four ininuteS' we
were obliged to hold our faces down between our
knees to recover our breath.

We soon got into an eddying wind that was alto«
geth^r insufferable, and, at the same timoj we wel'e
struggling among snow so deep, that our progress- in the
way we proposed going was very equivocal indeed, for
we had, by this time, lost all idea of east, west, norths
or south. Still we were as busy as men determined
on an enterprise of moment could be, and pers(evered
on we knew not whither, sometimes rolling over the
snow, and sometimes weltering in it up ^to thi^ ^chin.
The following instance of our successfol exerticms
marks our progress to a tittle : There was an enclosure
^ound the house to the westward, which we deiio-
minated "the Park," as was customary in Scotland at
that period, and in that quarter, where a farm seldom

970 THE SHKPHCIID's CAUCNOAIU

^QtitodiMretlHUiOiieendoeed piece of girand. Whoi
we went awmy we cslciileted tiiat h was two been
uBtildey ; die Perk did not extend abovB diree inuidM
ywds ; end we were fttill engaged in it when day-i^
•fypeared.

When we got free of die Puk, we oko got freeef
tbe eddy of the wind. It was now atnog^ in (Mr
&ceB ; we went in a line before each other, and dialed
placet efery three or four minvtee^ and at lengih^'afl*
great fatigne» reached a kmg ridge of a hill where lit
anew was tbinna-> haring be^k blown off by the feree
of the wind, and by this we had hopea of readdig
within a short space of the ewes, which w^ere^stilW
mile and a half distant. Oar master had ttken 'tte
lead; I was n^xt him, and soon began to enspect, fiein
the depth of the snow, that he was kading ns qitUt
wrong; but as we always trvsted implicttly to the
person that was foremoet fw tibe time^ t eaid liothl^
for a good while, until satisfied that wo wo^e g^^fi^^ia
a direction very nearly right opposite to that well*
tended. I then tried to expostulate with him ; but lit
did not seem to understand what I said ; and, on get-
ting a glimpse of his countenance, I pereeited diAt'lt
was qtnte alt»ed. Kot to alarm die others, n<nr etea
himsdf, I said I was becomiog terribly "^ttiguetj^ttld
proiMMted tiiat we should lean on the snow and like
each a 12td6 whisky, (for I had brought aBmallhoitlle

SXOW-STORMS. 271

ia my pocket for fear of the worst), wad Bome bread
and dieese. This was nnaaimously agreed to, and I
noted that he swaiiowed l^e spirits rather eagerly, a
thing not usual with him, and when he tried to eat, it
was long before he could swallow any thing. I was
convinced that he would fail altogeUier, but, as it
would have been eaiaer to have got him to the shep*
herd's house, which was before us, than home again,
I made no proposal for him to return. On the con-
trary, I said, if they would trust themselves entire-
ly to me, I would engage to lead them to the ewes
without going a foot out of the way. The other two
l^eed to this, and acknowledged that they knew not
where they were ; but he never opened his mouth, nor
did he speak a word for two h<Hirs thereafter. It had
only been a temporary exhaustion, however, for he
afterwards recovered, and wrought till night as well as
any of us ; iiiough he never could recollect a single cir-
cumstance that occurred during that part of our way,
nor a word that was said, nor of having got any re-
freshment whatever.

At about half an hour past ten, we reached the
flock, and just in time to save them. Before that, both
Borthwick and the ploughman had lost their hats, not-
withstanding all their precautions ; and to impede us
still farther, I went inadvertently over a precipice, and
going down head foremost, between the scaur and the

THE Sli£PBESD*a GAUBNOAR.

iw» kmtd it impcMnble to extricate myself te the
■MKe I ttraggled 1 went the decker. For att-ev
trooUea, I beard Borthwick above eoBLTQlaed with
laagbtcr ; — be tbov^ be bad got tbe affiur of. the
dnagbill paid badi. By bolding by one anotber^ tmd
letting down a plaid to ioe» tbey hauled me i^; latf 1
was terribly incomiiioded by snow that bad got laiide
my clothes.

The ewes were standiiig in a dose body ; one half

of them were covered over with snow to tbe depth of

ten £eet, the rest were forced against a brae. Ws

knew not what to do, for we had no spades to d%

them out ; hot to our agreeable astonishment^ wbefL

those in front were removed, the rest walked out frwa

below the snow after their neighbours in a bodyi £v

they had been so closely pent together, as to be sU

touching one anotlier. If the snow-wreath bad sot

broke, and crumbled down upon a few that were hii|d^

most, we should have got them all out^ without putting

a hand to them. This was effecting a good deal mora

than any of the party expected a few hours beforei.

There were one hundred ewes in another place near

by, but of these we could only get out a Tery few, and

lost all hopes of saving what remained.

It was now wearing towards mid-day, and there were
occasionally short intervals in which we could see round
us for perhaps a score of yards ; but we got only 6119

nloib^ntaiy^iglaiiee of l)ie liiHsaromd tiB iiftdat cUiy.
'f *grew tpi&te ftt^tfent to be at inftfWtL'thvtgfliiAd
IkfUfmgitik'TeH lArent atray to tbem by iny^lf/thiit Is,
Fireitt i6 {fae diviBion tbat was lefVfar oiit oh tB^ UllS,
^#1^ oiir master and the ploogbifiati roloiiteefed'to
td^me those that were down oh the lower grouiid. I
fbhM mine in miserable circmnstances, but hialdngall
possible exertion, I got out about one half of them,
wliich I left in a' place of safety, and made toWfirds
Borne, for it was beginning to grow dark, and the storm
Wtts again raging in all its darkness and fury. I was
not in- th^ leaM afraid of losing my Way, for I kuei^ all
th^' declivities of the hills so well, that'I coidd have
c^e home with my eyes bound up ; and indeed, long
A^ I ^6t home, they were of ho use to me. I was ter*
rifled for the water (Douglas Bum), for in the morning'
ii'iras flooded and gorged up with snow in a dreadful
inli&iUier^'ihd I judged that it would be how quite im-
passable. At length I came to a place where I thought
the'l^ater should be,'and fell a-borihg and gropingfor
it with my' long stafil No : I could find no water, and
bc^n to dread that, in spife of my supposed accuracy,
1 'had gone wrong. This greatly surprised me, and-
standing still to consider, I looked up towards Heaven,
I shall not say for what cause, and to my utter amaze-
ment thought I beheld trees over my head, flourishing
abfliad over the whole sky.' I hever had sden'su^ch «xv

M 2

274 THE shbphbrb's calendar.

optica] delusion before ; it was so like enchaiitmetit Aat
I knew not what to think, b«t dreaded'tiiat some ex-
traordinary thing was coming orer me, and'titst I was
deprived of my right senses. I concluded that the
storm was a great judgment sent on m for our sms, md
that this strange phantasy was connected with it, an S-
lusion effected by eWI spirits. I stood a good IvhOein
this painful trance ; but at length, on making a bold 9fX*
ertion to escape from the ftury yision, I cane all at Ottes
in contact with the Old Tower. Never in my life £d
I experience such a relief; I was not only all at omos
freed from the fairies, but from the dangers of the
gorged river. I had come over it on some moontaintlf
snow, I knew not how nor where, nor do I know to this
day. So that, after all, what I had seen were trees, sad
trees of no great magnitude neither ; but their appea^
ance to my eyes it is impossible to describe. I thovght
they flourished abroad, not for miles, but for hondredB
of miles, to the utmost verges of the visible heavens.
Such a day and such a night may the eye of a diefAerd
never again behold t

On reaching home, I found our women-folk sitting in
woful plight. It is well known how wonderfully acute
they g^erally are, either at raising up imaginary evik,
or magnifying those that exist; and ours had made out
a theory so fraught with misery and distress, that die
poor things were quite overwhelmed with grief i

SNOW-STORMS. 275

*< There was none of us ever to see the house ugain in
Itfe, There was no possihility of the thing happening,
all circumstances considered. There was not a sheep
in the country to he sayed, nor a single shepherd left
alive — ^nothing hut vxmen ! and there they were left,
three poor helpless creatures, and the men lying dead
.out among the snow, and none to hring them home.
Iiord help them, what was to become of them I'' They
perfectly agreed in all this ; there was no dissenting
voice ; and their prospects still omtinuing to darken
with the fall of night, they had no other resource left
diem, long before my arrival, but to lift up their voices
and weep. The group consisted of a young lady, our
master s niece, and two servant girls, all of the same
age, and beautiful as three spring days, all of which
are mild and sweet, but differ only a little in bright-
ness. No soon^ had I entered, than every tongue and
every hand was put in motion, the former to pour forth
..queries faster than six tongues of men could answer
with any degree of precision, and the latter to rid
me of the incumbrances of snow and ice with which I
.was loaded. One slit up the sewing of my frozen plaid,
another brushed the icicles from my locks, and a third
imloosed my clotted snow-boots. We all arrived with-
in a few minutes of each other, and all shared the same
kind offices ; even our dogs shared of their caresses and
ready assistance in ridding them of the frozen snow, and i

276 THE SH£PUERX>'i9.GA<'ENDAIt.

the dsar conaiBient creatusM iwcre .siKitimos; bnpfittr
than if no storm or danger had ever existed. — Jjefm
«ie suppose that, eren amid toife' and- pefik, tk^^ep-
berda iUe is destitute of enjoymeiit* - i. > ■■■ ■- / • '
• Bortbwick had found his way home 'WithMit^faMtsg
his aim iu the least. I had deiriaieilhiit']ittle^«av« that
«I lost the river, and remained a ahxwt time in ihe oon-
tiy of the Fairies ; hut the Dther two had a hard straggle
for lifeb They went off, as I said formerly, in geareh^iiif
seveAteeo . scores of my floek that had heen lefit-iiili
place not far from the house ; hut being unable to fiad
ione of them^ in searching for these they lost thensehiM,
while it was yet early in the afternoimw^ They^ suppose
that they had gone hy the house very near U>hf for iktif
had toiled t^ dark among deep snow in the bum bekn^;
jtfoid if John Burnet, a ne^hbouring shepherd, bad not
heard them calling, and found and conducted ibttli
bome^ it would have stood hard with them iindeed^ldr
noQO or as would have looked for ^m in ci»a|t <Ar0O-
tfton. They were both very much esdiavwied,' 'and ^
•goodman could not speak above bis Ireatli that) mghi
t • l^ext morning ^ae Aj was clear •$ but b coid^mtMi-
perote wind still blew from the north. Thofaee of ^
country was entirely altered. The form of eterythill
was changed) and new mountains: leaned over^evigiy'Vid^
ley. AU traces of bums, rivers, and hdtes^ w^m iol^
terated ; for the frost had been coadmensurste witfrlftie

1 ' J

fiNOW-t^dKMS^^ ^1^*' '2^7

(1 . Thcffe .faavii^gv been, tfatee: hundred aiidfiarpjif of ^my
flock that had neyerbeea found ad •«li'duiiiAgiith4'()i4*
:^ediA^duy^>9s soou a» the moniing dwHrtn&diyk^'^^ all
ont to look after them. It wm a hideotis^ldoMiiipAciiMiie
•mfDO one. could oast his eyes.a»>iiAdifaimitA<|ikil«^teiii
aay ei^ctation of sheep being saved/' It> ^K^t: M» ]it6>
tope of desolaticMk. There is a^daep glen^ h^ikkewAloA'
house and Dryhope^ called the 'UawksfaaW' CiMdb,
which k full of ti«e8« There vrtM aot the^Uipiof^iMfB
of then to be seeiL This may convey aome'ideiv hKHr
thevQOttBtry looked ; and no one cati sospeet'^tl woJiJki
Mttte- drciustistancea otherwise - than ithey men^\ f\^kklk
there, are so many liring that. could ^conhiAa mae^yi i)itii
r- When wo came to the gronnd wbrare thA sheep 9h<luii
hai^e 1^% there was Bot<meof them>ahoTB ite tmtni,
iHere and there, at a great distance £Mmt each otheiy^
oonki perceive the headeev hcnrlbs of itraggiersiappetf-
jitgi.and these^were easily got out r 'but whilil weiihild
collected theae few, we eonld. find no> more^ lAi^'httd'
J^n lyiag all abroad in a scattered atate irfaenthi^'stbrm
efitme ^n>!and>were oovcrodoner jitst as thefbadib^sH
lying* It waS'Om a kind of .slopiBg>,j;roand,'<^t lay^hfilf
Jbte^eatb the wdnd^and-the «iow wa»UBifbrtftly(firdni>iiiftt
to «ight feet- dedp. Under liiis liie hog» wtero ly&g scftf-
4ered. ovior at* )ea^ one hnndffed^ «crea^ of < h^arthery

278 THE shepherd's CAlsESOASU

ground. It was a very ill-looking concern. We wea(
about boring with our long poles, and often did not find
one bog in a quarter of an bour. But at length a wbite
•baggy colly» named Sparkie, tbat belonged to the eow*
herd boy, seemed to have comprehended something of
onr perplexity, for we observed bim plying and scia>
ping in tbe snow with great yiolence, and always looking
over bis shoulder to us. On going to tbe qpot, we found
that he had marked straight above a sheep. From tbat
be flew to another, and so on to another^ as fast as we
oould dig them out^ and ten times Caster, for he some-
limes had twenty or thirty holes marked befordiaad.
We got out three hundred of that division beforo
night, and about half as many on tbe other parts of tbe
farm, in addition to those we had rescued the day be*
fore ; and the greater part of these would have been lost
had it not been for the voluntary exertions of Sparide.
Before the snow went away (which lay only eight days)
we had got out every sheep on the farm, either dead or
alive, except four ; and that these were not found was
not Sparkie's blame, for though they were buried below
a mountain of snow at least fifty feet deep, he had agaia
and again marked on tbe top of it above thenu Tbe
sheep were all living when we found them ; but those
that were buried in the snow to a certain depth, being,
I suppose, in a warm, half-suffocated state, though on
being taken out they bounded away like roe^ were ii^

SNOW-STORMS. 279

staotly after paraJyaed by the sadden change of atmos-
ph^^, and fell down^ ^prived of all power in their limbs.
We had freat mmbeiB of diese to carry home and feed
with the hand; but others that were buried yery deep*
died outright in a ftw minutes. We did not, however,
lose above saty in all ; but I am certain Sparkle saved
us at least two hundred.

We were for several days utterly ignorant how al^
fairs stood with the country around us, all communic»»
tion between farms being cut off, at least in the wild dis-
trict where i lived; but John Burnet, a neighbouring^
sfaef^i^d, on another farm, was remarkably good at pick-
ing up the rumours that were afloat in the coun^,
which he delighted to circulate without abatement*
Manypeople tell their stories by halves, and in a man<*
ner so cold and indifferent, that the purport can scarce*
ly be discemed, and if it is, cannot be believed ; but that
was not the case with John ; he gave them with interegif
and we were very much indebted to him for the Intel*
ligence that we daily received that week. - No sooner
was the first brunt of the tempest over, than John made
a point of going off at a tangent every day, to learn what
was going on, and to bring us word of it. The accounts
trere most dismal ; ihe country was a charnel-house.
The first day he brought us tidings of the loss of thou-
sands of sheep, and likewise of the death of Robert
Armstrong) a neighbour shepherd, one whom we all

2M THE SHEPHEM»> IMgir»TDAlU

koMT weUii hm bamg imi lalrfpkAfike gheiriiMM Ji
henl 4Ni.tii«tlMr fonw Ua^iitiflittbafaHli Arai
diMi faOM Ifom.a ium^Mpimej wMu K'tfcl tMir
it^ran-kopwA to «U dia inmtwawiheisftjhc m* ^Ifac
companion left him at a ciika<iiiiv<p4'<HMtf iiil^p><'
cwa aanataww; ye^ near, aa it wm^ thaf ooidi 4i^
reach: Uni» lbo«^ they attempled il igwL.fHii«|^.tpnk»
an4 al^ langth (hey Were ehteyd-M mlwin, indjMifch:
hini laperishat the aide of tha dtka.* Tfahur Qfjnyt j>WK
inlmalft ar<inaintanc6» periahed ihali wighw . Tkiem^WWk^
another- ^bapberd named Watt} thfr rirciiiiintiiTWMMi 4I'
whoae 4aath:weve pecuiiady affdctkag* 4ie haii^^wpil'-
to aae hia aw^theart the ni^ht bej^ere^ ^tl^wWil iHk^
had'iSaally agreed and settled eyery thkig;«boHili ikA)
maniaga^ bufc it so happened, in the^iafiemtii^ftlaaiaMAh'
rf FYrHT^nnn, thrt nl *H "^"j t^Tt Thfir thi trimn jtf
hia- marriage were {Hrockdmed in thetohivpkx^fjtfefti^'
his companions were carrying hiii^ hein^A^#eiqM|d'fiiipi)t

the hilL ;..V . -r;: .It-^.tTH^ *ll!

It may not he amisa here toaemarh^^ thali. He JWtft?4ftBaf 1
c^Fed opinion all ever the €oailti^tha^ts<ni^);Jifllk^
W0ce lost, and a great many wore I»adfni80fi4f«h|t ikori:
administering of ardent spirits to ^^ntfSjvfti^iliWhik^n
a »tate of eadAanstion. It was aap}laq[tice.ilgmneltwlhifl^
I entered my vehement pretest^;. AUhaHg^^th^.iwif0i!
of the multitudo should never, b^' dJBri»giur4€i^<4^1itdft i
br^ad and sweet miU^ or eveiv.a>^%#Q^#ij^i{|oMii.*

ivUhv ffwed t mack safer restoratrre m the ^Idi;
lln*» k — dfaayuig^ tkrt tsome wko toakm |;tes 49#
flpinti ^ImH aigiil nev^r flpoiee sfeo^ier word^^ <ei?^Rl^
thrtigh ihef wen emathmtg to wlk tuid oon^poraie
wlMii iIkw frmcb fraiid them.

<ift die^ oiJi«r luBBd^ l^ere wat oae wouhb fHie hM
bar idoyrett, «mI lblloiv«d fa«r inubamfa^of^ whieil
UwwifghtJier t» lu nu0tar l3r]ng in m slate t>f iineilsi)»i'
litfr He bad Crilea down bareheaded Msmaagikefsm'W^
aaril was all oe^wed ever, sai« one comer of bis jkiki,^
She bad adbing better to take mth her, wbw sbe«Bt^
ofrt^liuBi a bottle of sweet milk and a little oatnied
caake, and yet, with the help of these, ^e so fe recmit*
ed bis strmgi^ as to get him safe borae,-%hsiiigb Mi^
wtdfoiit long and active p^^veraace* She 4aek tw^
litlieTials with her, and in these sl^ heated tbe milk iii^
her boisOm^^^lliat man would not be die^osed to laugb^
at^tbe i^liiiess of die fair sex for some timer ^

It is pmfectly unaccountable how easily people died*
Tbe.ftost must 4$er«atnly have been prodigious ; so in-'
teaae' aa to have ^lei^sd momentarily on llie Til^ *of
those ikM oirefbealed themselves by wading and toil^
inf too impatiently among the snow, a thing that is
T^^ aptly done. I have conversed with five or -six
that were carried home m a state of insenstbility, wbo
heyer wocdd agatU' have mored fi*om the spot where
thery lay, and were only brought to life* by rubbing and

282 THE shepherd's CAXiENDAR.

warm applications ; and they uniformly declared, that
tbey felt no kind of pain or debility, farther than an
irreaistible desire to sleep. Many fell down while
walking and speaking, in a sleep so soimd as to resem-
ble torpidity ; and there is little doubt that those who
perished slept away in the same manner. I knew a
man well, whose name was Andrew Murray, that
perished in the snow on Minchmoor ; and he had taken
it so deliberately, that he had buttoned his coat and
folded his plaid, which he had laid beneath his head
Ux a bolster.

But it is now time to return to my notable lit^ary
society. In spite of the hideous prognosticatiiHcis thai
speared, the members actually met, aU save mysd(
in that solitary shieling before mentioned. It b easy
to conceive how they were confounded and taken by
surprise, when the storm burst forth on them in the
middle of the night, while they were in the heat of
sublime disputation. There can be little doubt that
some loss was sustained in their respectire flocks, by
reason of that meeting ; but this was nothing, com*
pared with the obloquy to which they were subjected
on another account, and one which will scarcely he
believed, even though the most part of the members
are yet alive to bear testimony to it.

The storm was altogether an unusual convulsion ci
nature. Nothing like it had ever been seen or heard

SNOW-STORMS. 283

of among us before ; and it was enough of itself to
arons^ ,^^ery spark of superstition that lingered among
tbefe mountains. It did so* It was imiversally view-
ed as a judgment sent by God for the punishment of
some beiQOus offence : but what that offence was, could
not for a while be ascertained. When, however, it
oame out, tbat so many men had been assembled in a
lone ii^frequented place, and busily engaged in some
mysterious work at the very instant that the blast came
^ no .doubts were entertained that all had not been
right there, and that some horrible rite or correspon-
den9^.wiit^.the powers of darkness had been going
091^, , It so happened, too, that this shieling of Enter*
tr^ny was, situated in the very vortex of the storm ;
d)^ deya^tatipns made by it extended all around thai
t€». a. certain extent, and no farther on any one quar-
ts t^fm lather* This was easily and soon remark-
«ff ;, a|^,,i^pn the whole, the first view of the matter
had, ^^i[}i^ aA equivocal appearance to those around,
who^l^d sujOG^red so severely by it.

.^t i^tiUf;^ the rumour grew, the certainty of the
^f^SS^^ ground^-^new corroborative circumstances
Wer9:i^v|sry^ day divulged, till the whole district was in
vi^jIK^i^^^yW^ several of the members began to medi*
tate a speedy retreat from the country ; some of them,
I .kaPWv would have fied, if it had not been for the
adt^f^ pf the late worthy and judicious Mr Bryden

iM TUB SilEPUEBD*S CAL£XDAR.

ot Crosftlee. Tlw first iutiuuitiou tliat I had of it was
^oin my frieud John Burnet^ who gave it me viUi
hm accohtouied enevfy and full assurance. He came
oTer oue eveuiugt and I saw by his face he had some
(CTvat nenni. 1 think I remeniber» as I well may, ercry
word that |)as$ed between us on the subject.

** \Ve«l» chap^ said he to me, <' we hae fond out
what ha» been the cause of a* this mischief now*"

^ What do vou mean, John ?"

^ What do I mean ? — It seems that a great squad
o birkies tliat ye are conneckit wi*, had met that night
ai the herd's house o* Ever Fhawhope, and had raised
the deil auiang them I"

Every countenance in the kitchen changed ;. the
women gazed at John, and then at me, and their lips
tcrew while. These kind of feelings are infectioqSy
people may say wliat they will ; fear begets fear «3
uaturally as light springs from reflection. I reaooQ^
utoutly al first against the Teracity of the reporti ob-
serving that it was utter absurdityy and a shame and
disgrace Iw the country to believe such a ridiculoios Jie*

^Lie r* said Johi^ '*It*s nae lie; they had him vp
amaug them hke a great roagh dog at the very tio^ie
that the timipest began, and ?rere glad ta^draw..cuti}
and gie him ane o' their number to get quit o',hiin
agaiik'

Every hair of my head, and inch oi my frames

SNOW-STORMS. 285

lerept when I heard this sentence ; for I had a dearly
Idved brother who was of the number, and seVlstar fall
H^ousins and intimate acquaintances ; indeed, I Iboked
ttpcm the whole assembly as my brethren, stod cott-
iidered myself involved in all their transaction^. I
could say no more in defence of the society's proceed-
ings ; for, to tell the truth, though I am ashaiifed to
acknowledge it, I suspected that the allcgatioii rhlght
be true*

' ** Has the deil actually taen awa ane o' theni bodi-
ly ?" said Jean.

" ^* He las that," returned John, " and it's thought the
skaith wadna hae been grit, had he taen twa dr three
mae o' them. Base villains I that the haill country
should hae to suffer for their pranks ! But, hoWevef,
the law's to tak its course on them, and they'll find,
tre a' the play he played, that he has need of a lang
]6poon: that sups wi* the deil."

' The next day John brought us word, thiat it Was
^< onfy the servant-maid that the 111 Thief had taen
away;" and the next again, that it was actually Bryden
of Glenkerry ; but, finally, he was obliged to inform
Mes^ '^That a was exactly true, as it was- first' tauld,
!mt only that Jamie Bryden, after bemg a-'wanting' for
some days, had casten up again." . .

There has been nothing since that time that hi»
. <3aiiB€d such a ferment in the countl*y^^noiight else

286 THE SHEPHERD 8 CAI<£NDAR.

could be talked of; and grieyous was the blame at-
tached to thofie who had the temerity to raise up the
devil to waste the land. Legal proceedmgs, it is saiil,
were actually meditated, and attempted ; but lucky it
was for the shepherds that they agreed to no reference,
for such were the feelbgs of the country^ and the op-
probrium in which the act was held, that it is likely
it would have fared very ill with them ;— at all evenU,
it would have required an arbiter of some decision sod
uprightness to have dared to oppose the prejudices that
were entertained. Two men were sent to come to the
house as by chance, and endeavour to learn from the
shepherd, and particularly from the servant-maid, what
grounds there were for inflicting legal punishment ; but
before that happened, I had the good luck to hear her
examined myself, and that in a way by which aD sus-
picions were put to rest, and simplicity and truth left
to war with superstition alone. I deemed it very ca-
rious at the time, and shall give it verbatim, as nearly
as I can recollect

Being all impatience to learn particulars, as soon as
the waters abated, so as to become fordable, I hasted
over to Ettrick, and the day being fine, I found num-
bers of people astir on the same errand with myself)
—the valley was moving with people, gathered in from
the glens aroimd, to hear and relate the dangers and
difficultiea that were just overpast. Among others,

SNOW-STORMS. 287

the identical girl who served with the shepherd in
whose house the meeting took place^ had come down
4o Ettrick School-house to see her parents. Her name
was Mary^ Beattie, a heantifnl sprightly lass, ahont
twenty years of age ; and if the de^l had taken her m
preference to any one of the shepherds, his good taste
could scarcely have heen disputed. The first person
I met was my friend, the late Mr James Anderson,
who was as anxious to hear what had passed at the
meeting as I was, so we two contrived a scheme where-
by we thought we would hear every thing from the
girrs own mouth.

We sent word to the School-house for Mary, to call
at my father s house on her return up the water, as
there was a parcel to go to I'hawhope. She came ac-
cordingly, and when we saw her approaching, we went
into a little sleeping apartment, where we could hear
every thing that passed, leaving directions with my
mother how to manage the affair. My mother herself
was in perfect horror ahout the business, and believed
it all; as for my father, he did not say much either the
one way or the other, but bit his lip, and remarked,
that, << folk would find that it was an ill thing to hae
to do wi' the Enemy."

My mother would have managed extremely well,
had her own early prejudices in favour of the doctrine
of all kinds of apparitions not got the better of her.

289 THE shepherd's calenoab.

She was very kind to the girl, and talked with her
about the stonD, and the events that had occurred, tiH
she brought the subject of the meeting fonrard he^
self, on which the following dialogue commeIleed^—

<' But, dear Mary, my woman, what were the dUk
a* met about that uight ?*'

'< O, they were just gaun through their papen ami
arguing."

" Arguing I what were they arguing about ?**

" I have often thought about it sinsyne, but realty
I canna tell precisely what they were arguing about."

" Were you wi' them a* the time ?**

" Yes, a* the time, but the wee while I was miDdDg
the cow."

" And did they never bid ye gang out ?**

" Oo no ; they never heedit whether I gaed out or in."

" It*s queer that ye canna mind ought ava }— CID
ye no tell me ae word that ye heard them say ?"

<< I heard them saying something about the Btaum
o' things."

<< Ay, that was a braw subject for them I Bat,
Mary, did ye no hear them saying nae ill words ?"

« No."

<< Did ye no hear them speaking naething about da
deil?"

« Very Htlle."

<< What were they saying about him f*

6

SNOW-STOKMS. 289

" I thought, I aince heard Jamie Fletcher saying
there was nae deil ava."

<< Ah ! the unwordy rascal ! How durst he for the
life o' him I I wonder he didna think shame."

<< I fear aye he's something regardless, Jamie.**

'< I hope nane that helangs to me will ever join him
in sic wickedness I But tell me, Mary, my womiyi,
did ye no see nor hear naething imcanny ahout the
house yoursell that night ?"

'' There was something like a plover cried twice i'
the peat-neuk, in at the side o* Will's bed.'*

<< A plover I His presence be about usj There was
never a plover at this time o* the year. And in the
house too ! Ah, Mary, I'm feared and concerned
about that night's wark I What thought ye it was
that it cried ?"

<< I didna ken what it was, — it eried just like a plo-
ver.

'< Did the callants look as they war fear'd when they
heard it ?"

" They lookit geyan queers"

" What did they say ?"

<< Ane cried, < What is that ?' and another said,

< What can it mean ?' — * Hout,' quo' Jamie Fletcher,

< it's just some bit stray bird that has lost itsell.' — * I
dinna ken,' quo' your Will, ^ I dinna like it unco weeL' "

>^ Think ye, did nane o' the rest see ony thing ?"

VOL. II. N

2(K) THE shepherd's CALENDAR.

*' I believe there was somethiiig seen."

'' What wa8*t ?'* (in a half whisper, with manifest
alarm.)

<< When Will gaed out to try if he could gang to
the sheep, he met wi' a great big rough dog, that had
rery near worn him into a linn in the water.'*

My mother was now deeply affected, and after two
or three smothered exclamations, she fell a-whispering;
the other followed her example, and shortly after, they
rose and went out, leaving my friend and me very lit-
tle wiser than we were, for we had heard both these
incidents before with little varialion. I accompanied
Mary to Phawhope, and met with my brother, who
soon convinced me of the fialsehood and absurdity of the
whole report ; but I was grieved to find him so much
cast down and distressed about it. None of them
durst well show their faces at either kirk or market for
a whole year, and more. The weather contimiiog
fine, we two went together and perambulated Eskdale
Moor, visiting the principal scenes of carnage among
the flocks, where we saw multitudes of men skinniog
and burying whole droves of sheep, taking with them
only the skins and tallow.

I shall now conclude this long account of the st<niD,
and its consequences, by an extract from a poet for
whose works I always feel disposed to have a great
partiality ; and whoever reads the above will not doubt

SNOW-STORMS. 291

on what incident the description is founded, nor yet
deem it greatly overcharged.

" Who was it rear'd these whehmng waves?

Who scalp'd the brows of old Cum Gorm,
And scoop'd these ever-yawning caves?"—

«'Twas I, the Spirit of the Storm !"

He waved his sceptre north away,
The arctic ring was refit asunder ;

And through the heaven the startling bray
Burst louder than the loudest thunder.

The feathery clouds, condensed and furPd,
In columns swept the quaking glen ;

Destruction down the dale was hurl'd,
O'er bleating flocks and wondering men.

The Grampians groan'd beneath the storm ;

New mountains o*er tlie correi leanM ;
Ben Nevis shook his shaggy form,

And wondered what his Sovereign mean'd.

•

Even far on Yarrow's fairy dale,

The shepherd paused in dumb dismay ;

And cries of spirits in the gale
Lured many a pitying hind away.

The Lowthers felt the tyrant*s wrath ;

Proud Hartfell quaked beneath his brand ;
And Cheviot heard the cries of death.

Guarding his loved Northumberland.

But O, as fell that fateful night.
What horrors Avin wilds deform,

And choke the ghastly lingering light !
There whirl'd the vortex of the storm.

29B THE SHEPHBRO'S CALENDAR.

Ere mom the wind grew deadly itill.

And dawning in the air updrew,
From many a shdve and shining hill^

Her folding robe of fidry Uae.

Then what a emooth and wondrous some
Hung o*cr Loch Arin's lovely breast !

Not top of tallest pine was seen.
On which thir daoM eye eould rest ;

But mitred cliff and crested fell.

In lucid curls, her brows adorn ;
Aloft the radiant crescents swell,

AU pure m robes by angeb worn.

Sound sleeps our seer, &r firom the day,
. . Beneath yon sLeek and wreathed -oont ^

His spirit steals, unmiss'd, away.
And dreams across the desert lone.

• Sound sleeps our seer ! — the tempests rave^

And cold sheets o'er'his bosom fling ;
ThB moldwarp digs his moasy gra.Te ; ,•.-.]

His requiem Avin eagles sing.

i

tT

..-'il-'-

.,': -Aoi^fi

.. . U }X V;

THE shepherd's 0OO. 393

. ..'. !f> •.

t - < I -1. t'

,- • ^' '•.?; \'i • "i* Ji/i „•

^1,. -.

CHABTEIt'Xi' ' /

,- ■^f »

THE SHEPH£]^p S DOG.

: rl

A CURIOUS Story that appeared lately of a dog be- .
longing to a shepherd, named John Hoy, has brought
sundry similar ones to my recollection, which I am sure
cannot fail to be interesting to those unac<}uaintcd with
the qualities of that most docile and affectionate of the
whole animal creation — the shepherd's dog.

The story alluded to was shortly this. John was at
a sacrament of the Covenanters, and being loath to leave
the afternoon sermon, and likewise obliged to have his
ewes at the bught by a certain hour, gave his dog a
quiet hint at the outskirts of the congregation, and in-
stantly she went away, took the hills, and gathered the
whole flock of ewes to the bught, as carefully and quiet-
ly as if her master had been with her, to the astonish-
ment of a thousand beholders, for the ewes lay scattered
ever two large and steep hills.

This John Hoy was my uncle ; that is, he was mar-
j.ied to my moor's sister,. He was all his life remark-

'^94 THE suepuerd's cai^bndar.

able for breeding up his dogs to perform his comnuuids
with wonderful promptitude and exactness, especially
at a distance from him, and he kept always hy the same
breed. It may be necessary to remark here, that there
is no species of animals so yaried in their natures and
propensities as the shepherd^s dog, and these propensi-
ties are preserved inviolate in the same hreed from ge-
neration to generation. One kind will manage sheep
about hand, about a bnght, shedding, or fold, almost
naturally ; and those that excel most in this kind of ser-
vice, are always the least tractable at a distimce ; others
will gather sheep from the hills, or turn them this way
and that way, as they are commanded, as far as they can
hear their master s voice, or note the signals made hy
his hand, and yet can never be taught to eonunuid sheep
close around him. Some excel again in a kind of social
intercourse. They understand all that is said to them,
ur of them, in the family ; and often a good deal; that is
said of sheep> and of other dogs, their comrades; One
kind will bite the legs of cattle, and no species of cor-
rection or disapprobaUon will restrain them, or ever
make Uiem give it up ; another kind bays at the heads
of cattle, and neither precept nor example will ev^ in-
duce them to attack a beast behind, or bite its legs.

My xmcle Hoy's kind were held in estimation over
the whole country for their docility in what is termed
hirseUrinning ; that is, gathenng sheep at a distance.

THE shepherd's DOG. '^OS

but they were never very good aX commanding sheep
about hand. Often have I stood with astonishment at
seeing him standing on the top of one hill, and the Tub,
as he called an excellent snow-white bitch that he had,
gathering all the sheep from another with great care and
caution. I once saw her gathering the head of a hope,
or glen, quite out of her master's sight, while all that
she heard of him was now and then the echo of his
voice or whistle from another hill, yet, from the direc-
tion of that echo, she gathered the sheep with perfect
acnteness and punctuality.

I have often heard him tell an anecdote of another
dog, called Nimble : One drifty day, in the seventy-fouvy
after gathering the ewes of Chapelhope, he found that he
wanted about an hundred of them. He again betook
himself to the heights, and sought for them the whole
day without being able to find them, and began to sus-
pect that they were covered over with snow in some
ravine. Towards the evening it cleared up a little, and
as a last resource, he sent away Nimble. She had
found the scent of them on the hill while her master
was looking for them ; but not having received orders
to bring them, she had not the means of communica-
ting the knowledge she possessed. But as soon as John
gave her the gathering word, she went away, he said,
like an arrow out of a bow, and in less than five mi-
nutes he beheld her at about a mile s distance, bringing

296 THE SIIEPHEBD S CAI«ENI>A]|.

them round a hill, cmlled the Middle, cocking her tpil
behind them, and ^parently very happy at faanogjol
the opportmuty of terminating her master's disquLetpde
with so much ease.

I once witnessed another rery singular feat perfoim-
ed by a dog belonging to John Grahanit late tenant ia
AnhesteeL A neighbour came to his house after, it
was dark, and told him that he had lost a aheep.oo hb
famn and that if he (Graham) did not secure bei; i^
tin* morning early, she would be lost, as he had hroiig)it
her far, John said, he could not possibly get to the^
hill next momii^ but if he would take him to ibe'
very spot where he lost the sheep, perhaps his dog.
Chieftiun would find her that night. On that tl^,.
went away with all expedition, lest the traces of the
feet should cool; and J, then a boy, being in tllftr
house, went with them. The night was pitch- daKk».-
which had been the cause of the man losing his e«pt{ •
and at length he pointed out a place to John, by iht >
side of the water, where he had. lost her. << Chieftun^.
fetch that," said John, <« bring her hack, sir." I^^
dog jumped around and around, and reared

up on end, but not being able to see any Uiini^ cA'
dently misapprehended his master; on which Jofaa-fett
a-cnning and swearing at the dog, calling him a graftt
many hladcguard names. He at last told ^e mm^
that he must point out the very track that the sheep

YHB shepherd's Doe. 297

wienty otherwise lie had no cliancei of recovering it.
The lik^ led him to a grey stone, and said, he waa
ifliare she took the brae within a yard of that. '< Chief-
tain, come hither to my foot, you great numb*d whelps"
said Jbhn. Chieftain came. John pointed with hia
finger to the ground, << Fetch that, I say, sir, yon sta-
led idiot— bring that back. Away 1** The dog scait-
ed slowly about on the ground for some seconds, but
sdon began to mend his pace, and vanished in the dark-
ness. ** Bring her back — away, you great calf I** voci-
ferated John^ with a voice of exultation, as the dog
broke to the hill ; and as all these good dogs perform
tlieir work ki perfect silence, we neither saw nor heard
any more for a long time. I think, if I remember
i^ht, we waited lliere about half an hour; during
Wbich time, all the conversation was about the small
diiemce that the dog liad to find the ewe, for it wts
agreed on all hands, that she must long ago havfe mix-
ed'#ith the rest of the sheep on the form. How ^t
w#i, no man' will ever be able to decide.' Jchn, fco#-
e^^$lr,- still persisti^d in waiting until bis dojg^ came'badi^'
aiterWith the ewB or without her j Htui at last'tlM;^
tnMf aniMalbfbught'^heindividuil lost sheq> ib t^
very'fddt, which the inan took on hii back, ted' n^eift
otftds- way i'ejdicing. I f^imember '^ dog* was- fety
waM, and banging out hid tongftie-^bhn cidled' hink
all the ill names he could invent, which tjie tmimal

N 2

*i98 THE SHEPHERD^S CALENI>ilIL

seemed to take in rery good part. Such language
tteemed to be John's flattery to his dog. For my part,
I went home> fiuicying I had seen a miracle^ little weet-
ing that it was nothing to what I myself was to ex-
perience in the course of my pastoral lifei from the
sagacity of the shepherd's dog.

My dog was always my companion. I convened
with him tbe whole day — ^I shared every meal with
him, and my plaid in the time of a shower ; the eon-
sequence wasy that I generally had the best dogs ia
all the country. The first remarkable one that I hid
was named Sirrah* He was beyond all comparison ^
best dog I ever saw. He was of a surly unsocial
temper — disdamed all flattery, and refused to be ca-
ressed; but his attentiim to his master's commaads
and interests never will again be equalled by any of
the canine race. The first time that I saw him, a
drover was leading him in a rope ; he was hungryyand
lean, and far from being a beautiful cur, for he wasi all
over black, and had a grim faCie striped with duk
brown. The man had bought him of a boy for three
shillings, somewhere aa tbe Border, and doubtless hid
used him very ill on his journey* I thought I disoo-t
vered a sort of sullen intelligence in his &€e, notwitfa*
standmg his dejected and forlorn situation ; so I gave
the drover a guinea for him, and aj^propriated the cap-
tive to myself. I believe there never ,was a guinea iso

THE SHEPHERD*S DOG. 299

wdl laid out ; at least I am satisfied that I never laid
' out one to so good purpose* He was scarcely then a
year old, and knew so little of herding, that be had
never turned sheep in his life ; but as soon as he dis-
covered that it was his duty to do so, and that it obli-
ged me, I can never forget with what anxiety and
eagerness he learned his different evolutions. He would
try every way deliberately, till he foimd out what I
wacnted him to do ; and when once I made him to un-
derstand a direction, he never forgot or mistook it again.-
Well as I knew him, he very often astonished me, for
when hard pressed in accomplishing the task that he was
put to, he had expedients of the moment that bespoke
a great share of the reasoning faculty. Were I to re-
late all his exploits, it would require a volume ; I shall *
only mention one or two, to prove what kind of an ani-'
mal he was.

I was a shepherd for ten years on the same farm,
where I had always about 700 lambs put under my
charge every year at weaning-time. As they were of
the short, or black-faced breed, the breaking of them was
a very ticklish and difficult task. I was obliged to watch •
tbem. night and day for the first four days, during which \
time I had always a person to assist me. It happened
one year, that just about midnight the lambs broke, aAd >
came up the mo<H* upon us, making a noise with their >
running louder than thunder. We got up and wi&ved

900 THB shepherd's ghu^ehvar.

Mir f>lflid% skid thouted^ in hopes to tarm tb^n, bat we
fmfy mads ttsitlsrs worse, for m a momestt they were
sll tomhd lis, and by our exertions we cut them into
tittee diTiBions ; one of these rah ninth, another south,
and those that eame np betweoi as stnight up the mow
to the westward. I called out, <' Sirrah, my man, they re
a* away ;" the word, of all others, that set him most upon
the alert, but owing to the darkness of the night, and
biKckness of the moor, I never saw him at alL As the
^fision of the lambs that ran southward were giNBg
sivaigbt towards the fold, where they had been that day
taken from their dams, I was afraid diey would go there,
and again mix with them ; so I threw off part of my
clothes, and pursued them,'and by great' personal exer-
tion, and the help of another old dog that I had besides
^Sirrah, I turned them, but in a few minutes afterwards
Ibst them altogether. I ran here and there, not know-
ing what to do, but always, at interrals, gave a load
whistle to Sirrah, to let bim know that I was depend-
ing on him. By that whistling, thelad who was assist,
ing me found me out ; but he likewise had lost all traee
whatsoever of the lambs. I asked if he had never seen
Sirrah? If e said, he had not ; bat that aftor I left lum,
a wing bf the lambs had come round him with a swiil,
and that he supposed Sirrah had then given them a ton,
though he could not see him for the darkness. We both
concluded, that whatever way the lambs ran at first,

. THE shepherd's dog« . 301

they would finally land at the fold where they left thw.
motha^, and without delay we hent our course towai^dn.
that; hut when we came there, there was nothing f<^
them, nor any kind of bleating to be heard, and we dis-
covered with vexatioQ that we had come on a wrong

My companion then bent his course towards the farm
of Glen on the north, and I ran away westward for se-.
T^nd mites, along the wild tract where the lambs bad
gfuzsed while following their dams. We met alter k
wais day, far up in a place called the Black Cleucb> bi^
neither of us had been able to discover cm: lambs^ nor
ady traces' of them. It was the most extracwdinary cil(w
cumstance that had evar occurred in tlie annab of the
pastoral life! We had nothing for it but to return tp
atti* master, and inform him that we had lost his whol6
flock of lambs, and knew not what was become of one
of them.

On our way home, however, we discovered a body
of lambs at the bottom of a deep ravine, called the Flesh
Clench, and the indefatigable Sirrah standing in front
of -them, looking all around for some relief, but sti)l
standing true to his charge. The sun was then up ; and
when we first came in view of them, we concluded that
it was one of the divisions of the lambs, which Sirrah
had been unable to manage imtil he came to that com- .
manding situation, for it was about a mile and a half

302 THE shepherd's calendar.

distant from the place where they first broke and scat-
tered* But what was our astonishment^ when we dis-
corered by degrees that not one lamb of the whole flod^
was wanting 1 How he had got all the dirisions col-
lected in the dark is beyond my comprehension. The
charge was left entirely to himself firom midnight mtil
the rising of the son ; and if all the shepherds in the
Forest had been there to asust him> they could not
hare eflPected it with greater propriety. All that I
can say farther i% that I neyer felt so grateful to any
creature below the sun as I did to Sirrah that morning.
I remember another achievement of his which J ad-
mired still more. I was sent to a place in Tweeddak^
called Stanhope, to bring home a wild ewe that had
strayed from home. The place lay at the distance <^
about fifteen miles, and my way to it was orer steq>
bills, and athwart deep glens ; — ^there was no path, and
neither Sirrah nor I had ever travelled the road before.
The ewe was brought in and put into a bam over night ;
and, after being frightened in this way, was set out to.
me in the mining to be driven home by herself. She
was as wild as a roe, and bounded away to the side of
the mountain like one. I sent Sirrah on a circular route .
wide before her, and let him know that he. had the.
diarge of her. When I left the people at the house,
Mr Tweedie, the farmer, said to me, '< Do you really,
suppose that you will dnve that sheep over theee.

THE shepherd's DOG. 303

hills, and out through the midst of all the sheep in the
country ?** I said I would try to do it, " Then, let
me tell you," said he, " that you may as well try to
travel to yon sun." The man did not know that I waa
destined to do both the one and the other ! Our way>
as I said, lay all over wild hills, and through the mid-
dle of flocks of sheep. I seldom got a sight of the ewe,
for she was sometimes a mile before me, sometimes
two ; but Sirrah kept her in command the whole way—
never suffered her to mix with other sheep— nor> as fax
as I coidd judge, ever to deviate twenty yards from the
track by which he and I went the day before. When
we came over the great height towards Manor Water,
Sirrah and his charge happened to cross it a little be-
fore me, and our way lying down hill for several miles,
I lost all traces of them, but still held on my track. I
came to two shepherd's houses, and asked if they had
seen any thing of a black dog, with a branded face and
a long tail, driving a sheep ? No ; they had seen no
such thing ; and, besides, all their sheep, both above and
below the houses, seemed to be unmoved. I had no-
thing for it but to hold on my way homeward ; and at
length, on the comer of a hill at the side of the wat^,-
I discovered my trusty coal-black friendsitting with his
eye fixed intently on the bum below him, and some-
times giving a casual glance behind to see if I was co-
ming : — ^he had the ewe standing there, safe and unhurt

S04 THE SHEPHKBD's CASJOtnASU

WIma I got lier kome, and aet her at lib^ty among
our own abeep, he took it highly amiaa. I coaM
acarcely prevail with him to let her go ; and ao diead-
fally waa.he afl&outed, that ahe ahould hare been let
go free after all his toil and trouble, that he woakl
not come near me all the way to the house, nor yet
taate any anpper when we got there. I belieTe lie
wanted me to take her home and kiU her.

He had one rery laughable peculiarity^ which often
created no little disturbance about the house^ — ^it was
an outrageous ear for music He never heard music>
but he drew towards it ; and he never drew towards
itf but be joined in it with all his vigour. Many
a good psalm, song, and ton^ was he Uie cause of
apoiling ; for when he set fairly to, at which he was
not sl^ck, the voices of all his coadjutors had no
chance with his. It was customary with the wortlqr
old ikrmOT with whom i resided, to perform iuoSlf
worship evening and morning; and before he begais
it was always necessary to drive Skrah to the fieUh^-.
and close the door. If this was at any tinae foi^got aKc
neglected, the moment that the psalm was taisedyiie'
joined with all his <eal, and at sulA a mte^ that.life
drowned the voices of the family befojw thpee^ liaaa;
could be sung. Nothing farther could be donerliU;;
Sirrah was expelled. Bat then !• when he. got to dii^
peat-stack knowe before the door, especcidly'if he got

•- 'l

fr^low io pnag o«t, lie Af ^ve kii
f%il{'«e%>pe, whiiovt ■iitigBliwi;fdefg
te w«s oflen m hard unldi lor wm A

'Some iiiiagiued lint it wis fkwo i
ttrftt lift <fid tins. No flvdi tliuiig'* Muit
ligilt : it alwiys dr«w Inm towardi it fike m dam. I
slept in tlie byre-Mt — %nli ie tiie htyook ia a
corner below. Wfaea sore fifigiwid, I
tiped to my bed before tiie boar of finally
In sncb cases, wbenerer ibe pmlM wm lained ia ike
kiteben, wbicb was bat a dbort dbtaaee, 8inab kA
hl^hdr; and kyio^ bis ear doM to Ike bottoai oftbe
doop to bear aiore ^stnictiy, he gronied a loir mHm
in' accompaai^icat, till te soaad expired; aad tbfli
roeie^ aboefe bis ears, aad retamed to his hay'^ooir
Saa»ed Auic affected him aiost; bat ia either that or
any slo# tme, when the toaes dwelt apoa the key*
note, they pat Mm qaite beside Imasdf ; bis eyes had
the gleam of wiadneas in ihem ; aad he soaietiaief
qoHted nagn^ and Uterslly fell So hatklng. AU bis
raee bare the sAme qaalities of roice and ear in a less
of greater degree*

The inost pi&fal part of Sinab's history yet re*
mains; bat,inmemoryof himself, it mast be set down.
He grew old, and unable to do my work by himself.
I had a son of bis coming np that promised well, and
was a greater fayonrite with me than erer the other

306 THE SHEPHERD S CALENDAR.

was. The times were hard, and the keeping of them
both was a tax upon my master which I did not like
to impose, although he made no remonstrances. I
was obliged to part with one of them ; so I sold old
Sirrah to a neighbouring shepherd for three guineas.
He was accustomedi while I was smearing, or doing
any work about the farm, to go with any of the family
when I ordered him, and run at their bidding the same
as at my own ; but then, when he came home at night,
a word of approbation from me was recompense suffi-
cient, and he was ready next day to go with whomso-
erer I commanded him. Of course, when I sold him
to this lad, he went away when I ordered him, with-
out any reluctance, and wrought for him all that day
and the next as well as ever he did in his life. But
when he found that he was abandoned by me, and
doomed to be the slave of a stranger for whom he did
not care, he would never again do another feasible
turn. The lad said that he ran m among the sheep
like a whelp, and seemed intent on doing him all the
mischief he could. The consequence was, that he was
obliged to part with him in a short time ; but he had
more honour than I had, for he took him to his father,
and desired him to foster Sirrah, and be kind to him
as long as he lived, ^^ the sake cfwhat he had been;
and this injunction the old man faithfully performed.
He came back to see me now and then for months

THE shepherd's doct. 807

after he went away, but afraid of the mortification of
being driven from the farm-house, he never came
there ; but knowing well the road that I took to th^
hill in the morning, he lay down near to that. When
he saw me coming, he did not venture near me^ but
walked round the hill, keeping always about two him-
dred yards off, and then returned to his new master
again, satisfied for the time that thete was no more
shelter with his beloved old one for him. When I
thought how easily one kind word woidd have at-
tached him to me for life, and how grateful it woidd
have been to my faithful old servant and friend, I
coidd not help regretting my fortune that obliged us
to separate. That unfeeling tax on the shepherd s dog>
his only bread-winner, has been the cause of much
pain in tliis respect. The parting with old Sirrah,
after all that he had done for me, had such an effect
on my heart, that I have never been able to forget it
to this day; the more I have considered his attadi-
ment and character, the more I have admired them ;
and the resolution that he took up, and persisted in>
of never doing a good turn for any other of my race,
after the ingratitude that he had experienced from me,
appeared to me to have a kind of heroism and sublimity
in it. I am, however, writing nothing but the plain
simple truth, to which there are plenty of living wit-
nesses. I then made a vow to myself, which I have

308 TUB shepherd's calendar.

religiously kept, and ever shall, never to sell anotiier
dog ; bat that I may stand aeqtdtted of all pecoHitty
motires,— ^whichindeed those who know me will scai^i^
ly snspect me of^ — I must add, that when I saw'^Ofr
matters went, I never took a farthing df the ertipidated
price of old Sirrah. I hare Sirrali's race to thiswkRf;
and though none of them has ever equalled ^hlnk'ttia
sheep dog, yet they have far excelled him in all^^
estimable qualities of sociality and houKnir. ' ' '^ '
A single shepherd and hb dog will acconsfpllish tnto
in gathering a stock of sheep from a Highland Moa^
than twenty shepherds could do without dog9 ; arid it
is a fact, that, without this docile animal, 1^ paatttili
life would be a mere blank. Without the sh^jrfierd^
dog, the whole of the open mountainoua laoid iit'l^eOI-
land would not be worth a sixpence. It woidd re^[uh«
morie hands to manage a stock of sheep, gatheir iSkai^
from the hills^ force them into houses and foMs,' Slid
drive them to markets, than the profits of the Whole
stock woidd be capable of maintaining. Well may die
shepherd feel an interest in his dog ; he it is hideed
that earns the family's bread, of which be is himself
cofltent with the smallest morsel ; always grateful, and
always ready to exert his utmost abilities in his mas-
ter's interest. Neither hunger, fatigue, nor the worst
of treatment, will drive him from his side ; he will
follow him through fire and water, as the saying is,

THE shepherd's DOG. 309

V

|ua4'^o^h every bardship, without inui!miir or re-
]^l^#g» .^ be literally fall doiv;n dead at bis foot. If
o^j^. tb^m is obliged to chaiige masters^ it is some*
^^^QBg before be will acknowledge tbe new one>
Qi^Q^xadesceiid to woxrk for bim witb the same willing-
n^s%as he did for his formei: lord ; but if be once, ac-
Ipuiwl^dge him, he continues attached to hiip tiU
df^^r and though naturally proud and high-spirited,
in as far as relates to. hia master, these qualities (or
iflbor fidlings) are kept so much in subordination, that
be b(Ki laot a will of his own.

• My own jrenowned Hector,* was the, son and im-
miediate suceessiMr of the faithful old Sirrah; and tJiaugh
oot nearly so valuable adog, he. was & £ar mm^interest-
ing^^e.i' ; He had three.tiuftes more humour and whim;
a«4c^hQ]i^b ei^c0edingly docile, his bravest acts were
r%i^y ]^€tured with a grain of st^idity, wfaiehdih^w
e^ijbis. neaspnisg faculty toi be laughably obtuse. ,

^Ji^ball.n^ention a striking instance of it. , I was once
at,:fbe}%m of Shorthope, in Ettrick bead, receifaag
8%i|i^ J^mbstbat I had bought, andwas goi|]^<tOL<ake
tfiin^^rl^t,. with some more^ the next, day.. Qwii^.to
.8g^g^,a,cqidei%t^l delay, l.did not get fini^ deUvaiy.4»f
tb% }0mb« till it was ^ow}^ late v and b^g: obl|ged
t9^ at ,ii;iyo;(vn house that , nighty I was i^t^jfi J^t^le

. * Seethe Mountain :Ba|:4* ,. i ■

••i.\

SI2 THE SHEPH£BD*8 CALENDAR.

one place to another, bo did be in a moment ; and then
squatting down, he kept hit point aednloiislyy till he
was either called off or fell asleep.

He was an exceedingly poor taker of meat, was al-
ways to press to it, and always lean ; and often he
would not taste it till we were obliged to bring in the
cat. The malicious looks that he cast at her from un-
der his eyebrows on such occamns, were exceedingly
ludicrous, considering his utter incapability of wrang*
ing her. Whenever he saw her, he drew near his
bicker, and looked angry, but still be would not taste
till she was brought to it ; and then he cocked his tail,
set up his birses, and began a-lapping furiously, in ut-
ter desperation. His good nature was so immovable^
that he would never refuse her a share of what he got ;
he even lapped close to the one side of the di^ and
left her room — ^but mercy as he diu ply I

It will appear strange to hear a dog*s reasoning bt'
culty mentioned, as it has been ; but I have hardly ever
seen a shepherd's dog do any thing without perceiving
his reasons for it. I have often amused myself in cal-
culating what his motives were for such and such
things, and I geneitdly found them very cogent ones.
But Hector had a droll stupidity about him, and took
up forms and rules of his own, for which I could never
perceive any motive that was not even farther out of
the way than the action itself. He had one uniform

8

THE SKEPHfiRD's IKOO. \ 313

* •

practieey and a very bad one it was^ during the time of
fianHjr woiahip^^ — that just three or fonr second* be-
fore the conclusion of the pray^^ he started to his feet,
and ran baridng round the apartment Kke a erased
beaat. My &ther was so much amused with this, that
he would never snfier me to correct him for it, and
I scarcely erer saw liiie old man rise from the prayer
without his endeavouring to suppress a smile at the
extravagance of Hector. None of us ever could find
out how he knew that the prayer was near done, for
my father was not formal in his prayers ; but certes
he did know,— of that we had nightly evidence. There
never was any thing for which I was so puzzled to
discover a reason as this; but, from accident, I did
discover it, and, however ludicrous it may ^pear, I
am certain I was coirect^ It was much in character
with many of Hector's feats, and rather, I think, the
most otUr^ of any principle he ever acted on. As I
said, his chief daily occupation was pointing the cat.
Now, when he saw us ail kneel down in a circle, with
our faces couched on our paws, in the same posture
with himself, it struck his absurd head, that we were
all engaged in pointing the cat. He lay on tenters all
the time, but the acuteness of his ear enabling him,
through time, to ascertain the very moment when we
would all spring to our feet, he thought to himself>
<< I shall be first after her for you all !"

VOL II. o

3 16 THE SHfiPHBRD 8 CAI.SJIDAR.

mftde him a little treublesome oa iiift own diarge, md
set him a-mnning Tonod aod rmuid thesiy turning dan
in 9X eonien> out of m sort af wupaiieiee to be employKl
as well as his baying neighbours at the fold. WbeaevBr
old Sirrah found himsdf hard sety in connBanding wild
sheep on steep grsvindy where they ere Worst to winiy,
he nerer failed^ without any hint to the purpose, to
throw himself wide in below theosy and lay thor fm»
to the hm, by which means he got the eemoiand of tfaeiB
in a minute. I nerer could make Hector eomprahend
this advantage^ with all my art, although his hAti
found it out entirely of himself. The former wodd
turn or wear sheep no other way, bvt on the hill abere
them ; and though rery goiod at it, he gvre both them
and himself double the trouble and Bsitigiie.

It cannot be supposed that he could understand' all
that wna passing in the little funily drde, but he ter-
tainly comprehended a good part of it. In particukT)
it was very easy to discoyer that he rarely missed aagbt
that was said about himself the sheep^ the cat, or ef t
hunt. When aught of that nature came to be discoMsd,
Hector 8 attention and impatienoe soon became mani-
fest. Thero was one winter ereningy I said to my mo-
ther 4hat I was going to Bowerhope £Qir a fortnight^ for
thkt I had more conFenimcey for writing with Alexau'
dor Laidlaw, than at home; and I added^ ^But.Iwill
not take Hector with me, for he is conetandy ^piairel-

THE SHJSFUE&O'S HQQ. . . 3 17

fing with die rest of the dogs, singingiBiisict or bi€^!^-
ing some i^oar.V— «<f Nib W* q^th 9bei ^< leay^ -Hec-
tor witk mo ; I like a^e beat ta Ji^ve lum at l]Wie> poor

Theao <wece all < the>-wardB : ttiat pasaetL : Jh^ n^t
wornwig the water» vefe inA^eat. Aood^ aad I did not
go wvay till after hseakfast; but whea tt^ tiKa^.came
foTi tying up Hector, he waa .wanting.'— «i<. Th^ iimce's
in that beast^*' said I ; ^^X wUl wager that be heard^hat
we were saying yesternight^ aad has gone off ibr Bower-
hope as soon> as the door was opened this moxoing"

^^ If that ahould really be the osAe^ rU Uiink the beast
no canny/' said my moth^:.

The Yarrow was so large as to be quite. VD(ipassable,
so that I had to go up by. St Mary s I^och, andgQ across
by therboat ; and, on drawing near tp Bowerbope, t soon
perceived that matters had gone; precisely ae I eu^ect-
ed* Large as the Yacrow was, and it-appeared in^pass-
able by any Hying creature, He^or had made his^eecape
early in the moniing, had swum the m^t and was sit-
tii^, ^^ like a drookit hen," on a kaaoU at the east end
of the house^ awaiting my arriYal with much impatience.
I had a great attachment to this aaimaV who, with a
good deal of absurdity, joined all the Mniable.quaHties
of his species^ He was rather of a smaU fiise^ r^ty rough
and shagged, and not far from the colour of a fox.

His son, Lion, was the very picture of > his dad, had

318 TIIS SilEPIUUtD^ OAUBNDAR.

m good do^) more tagacityy but also more selfislmeM. A
history of the onei hoavvetrer, woald ^tjly be an qntonie
of that of the othar. Mr WiUiam KidiokoB took a file
likooesa of this latter one, which that gentleman alOl
poaaesaea. He co«ld not gpet him to ait for hia picture
in such a potitioii as he wanted, till he exhibited a sm-
goiarly fine pictore of his, of a sisali dog, on the (Jfppo-
site aide of the room. Lion took it for a real aaiiad,
and, diaiiking its fierce and important look exceeding,
he immediately aet up his ears and his shaggy l^seB,
and fijung a stem eye on the picture, in manifest wittii,
he would then sit for a whole day, and point his eye at
it, without moving away or altering his position* - -
It is a curious fact, in the history of these animab,
that the moot useless of the breed hare often the gMa*
est dc^pree of sagacity in triflingand useless matteva. At
exceedingly good aheepi-dog attends to nothing eke Wt
that particular branch .of buaineas to which he ia kecL
His whole capacity is exerted and exhausted on it, aad
he is of little avail in miacellaneons maitteca ; wheaaai)
a very indifferent cur, bred about the boose, and accii^
tomed to assbt with every things wiU often jiat die mow
noble breed to disgraoe.in these paltry servioes. If.one
calls out, for instance, that the cows are in ^e cora,ior
the hens in the garden, the housetcoUey ^aeda no cdm
hint, but runs and turns them out. The .shephecd'adag
knows not what is astir ; and, if ha ia csaUed onA in a

f I

Sim SUBfWS&D's .BQG. . • S19

iiiury for mich worky. all that he/ig^ do is tQ^i)tBak to
;t)ie ^, iMP^d i*ear. lunidelf up oa^mvit ^ ^^ ^ jio^heep
are/qpuungaway.. .A Wed sheep-dog^^if eomingTarenr
ing from the hillS) and getting into a.milkvhoose^ -would
most likely think of nothing eke tbem vflling^ya b^y
with the cream. Not 90 his initiated brother«>^'He
ii lured at home^ to a more ci?ili«ed: bebaTionn J liare
koown such lie night and day> among fromten tortirenty
pails full of milk} and never <»ice break the cream •f^one
of them with the tip of his tongue, nor would he tnSkt
cat, rat, or any other creature, to touch it.. This latter
sorty too, are far more acute at taking up what is said
in a family. Thwe was a fiarmer of lliis country, a Mr
Ale^cander Cuninghame^ who had a bitch that, for the
space of three or four years, in die lalter part of her tife,
met him always at the boundary of lus form, aJ^t a ,
mile and a half from his honey on hia way home. If
he was half a day 8way> a week, or a fortnight, it was
aU the same ; she met him at ikat spot, and there never
was an instance known of her goii^to wait his arrival
there on a wrong day. If this was a fact, whidb I have
heard averred by people who Jived in the house at that
time, she could only know of his commg home by hear-
ing it mentioned in the family. The same animal would
have gone and brought the cows from the hill when it
grew dark, without any bidding, yel she wa» a very in-
di&rcot abe^-dog.

320 TI1& UUnUBBB'B CAiMMDAR.

The aiMedotai of tiiete aaiinak are all sD modi iHk,
dMi wut I but W tahte the the— mdA part of dMne
I hare heard* they woald often look Tery much like
MjpelitioDa* I ahall therefinre only mention one or two
of the Bttoet aingnlarf wfaidi I know to be well ai-
thenUcated.

There arat a shepherd lad near Langholm, whiwe
name was Scott, who poeeeaMd a bitdi, famed over
all the West Border for her singnlar tractability. He
conld have aeat her home with one sheep, two 8h6q»,
or any giiren nnmber, from any of the neighboiiriDg
fiuina; and in the lambing seasoay it was his mnfonn
practice to send her hmne with the kebbed ewes jivt
as he got theniif— I mast let the town reader nnte-
stand this. A kebbed ewe is one whose lamb diet.
As soon as sneii is fonnd, she is immediately broiight
home by the shepherd, and another lamb put to fav;
and this lad, on going his roands on the hill^ whenever
be found a kebbed ewe, immediately gave her is
chaige to his bitch to take h<mie, which saTed lam
from coming back that way again^ and going orer tin
tame gronnd he had looked before. She always tsok
them careinUy home, and pnt diem into a fold whieh
was close by the house, keeping watch tawer them tBl
she was seen by smne oae of the frmily ; and thentihst
moment she decampedy and hasted bade to her master,
who sometimes sent lier three times home in one mon-

,H . VittiSBBPBSIUO'S^ t>OCk • ^ SSI

lumerlo.inM^th lwr»4nd take tlia<«heep in diavgjft fir4*i
Imc ; Imt thb ie^[iiiiied a good deal ef Qftution ;^'fo»^a6
•ooQ as she perceived that .1^ ^aaeeen, ifHieiher-tlbe
Aeep were pKt into the Md er iiet^ she^oneeived her
cfaaige at an end, and no flattery could induce her to
etay and aasiat in foldhig4hem« There was a display
tif acowoacy and attention in this, that I cannot say I
hmre ever sem equalled,

. , The late Mr Steel, flesher in PteUes, had a hitch
4hat was fuUy equal to the one mentioned aAwve, and
ilfaat in the very «ane qualification too. Her feats in
4akiig heme ahei^ froja the: neighbouring farms into
4iie Jeahp-Hiarket at PeiBbles foy' herself, form innume-
rable anecdotes in that vicinity, all similar to one im-
•olher. But there is one instance related of her^ timt
.aembiaes so much sagacity with natural affection^ that
J do not think the histimry of the animal creation fur-
tiiishes such another.

■Mr Stael had such an implicit d^[»endence on the at-
tention ol ikis animal to his orders, that :?rfienever he
ttput a kit of tktep befcie liet^ he^toek b. pride in lea-
Iving it tO' heBMlf, and either remained to take a glass
with the temerof whom he .had made the purchase,
•r took aafOCher- road, to look afker hargains or other
. ibasiaeflsu -Bai onatime Jie digtteed to^sonunit a drove
jtaherdiaige^ait acplaee eaUed >Wllieiisleey wllhoai at-

322 THE SU£PUBRD*8 CAIiENOAR.

toidiiig to her eondfeioo, as he ought to hare done.
This farm is five miles from Peebles, orer unld UU?,
Mid there is no Tegnlarly defined paeth to it. Whether
Mr Steel remained behind^ or took another road, 1
know not; hut on coming home late in the evsOding,
be was astonished at hearing that his faithfiol aaiiiml
had never made her appearance with the drore. " He
and his son, or serrant, instantly prepared to set oat by
different paths in search of her ; but on their going oat
to the street, there was she coming with the drevie, no
one missing; and, marvellous to relatfe, shie was eahy-
iog a young pup in her mouth ! She had been taken
in travail on the hills ; and how the poor beast bftd
contrived to manage her drove in her stitto of sfaftr-
ing, is beyond human calculation; for her road lay
through sheep the whole way. Her master s heUcx
smote him when he saw what she had suffered and ef-
^ted ; but she was nothing daunted ; and faaring de-
posited her young one in a place of safety, she agtin
set out full speed to the hills, and brought BXUbQueti
and another, till «be brought her whole litter, ofie %t
one ; but the last one was dead. I give ^^is » i have
heard it related by the country people; ^' thougHi
knew Mr Walter Steel well enough, I cannot sky I
ever heard it from his own mouth. I never entertidii-
ed any deubt, however, of the truth of the relatioB^^iid
certainly it is worthy of being preserved, for the ci^edh

9ft^at^ioo8t docile andfiffectionfile.of idlBDimaJor^tJie

^h^l^4's dog. : , : r wi. . , '.

.l^^ston^s related of the doga of aheepHstsidersi aiB
faifly h&ymA eil credilMiUty. I.eaimot Mtack oredit io
thpse^ ifitliout b^U^viog the anioials to haye been deTik
VOfarmBit^ (SPineto tbj^. earth lor the destntction of both
t)ip soiiU aad bodies iof men* . X caimpt ^oentieii named,
foTvijby&.i^ake of families tjiat still reinain inL< die comi^
try ; but there have been simdry men executed, who
b^lpioged tp this qiuutei: of dije realqo, fpr that heinous
crinie^.jn my own timet and others have absconded,
jn^ ii^jtiwe tp save their necks. There was not one
of.^thiQSc^.to .whom . I allude who did not acknowledge
biff dpg to he th^.^eates^ offender. One young mant
19 paf;tiQulai^ ^bo waS| I belieyei overtaken by justice
for.bia fimt, offeree, stated, that after be had folded
the;9bieep by.nMH)n4ight,,and selected bis numberJrom
the .flock. of, a formeiir. waster, he topk then^ out, and
§e.t away with .tb^m Awards Edinburgh. 39t before
he.^bad got. tbep quite |off . the liarm, his conscience
omote hioi} as. he ,said» (but more likely a dread of
that which aoon followed) and he quitted the.sheepi
letiing tbam goegain to.|he hilL He called hie dog
off them; and mounting his pony, rode away*. At
that, time ha said his dog was capering and playing
around hin^ as if .glad of having got. free of a.trpuble*
pome business ; and .he regarded him no «more,jtil],

324 THE 6I1£PHERD*6 CALENDAR.

ifier hftTUig rode about three iiiilea> he tkevght again
and again that he heard something eoning up belnid
him. Halting, at length, to ascertain what if was, in
a few minutes his dog came up with the stolen drove,
driring them at a furious rate to keep pace with his
master. The sheep were all smoking, and hanging oat
their tongues, and their driyi^ was Mly m warm as
they. The young man was now exceedingly trouUed ;
for the sheep having been brought so far from home,
he dreaded there would be a pursuit, and he could not
get them home again before day. Resolving, at sU
events, to keep his hands clear of them, he corrected
his dog in great wrath, left the sheep once n&ors, and
taking his dog with him, rode off a second time. He had
not ridden abore a mile, till he pierceived dnrt his dog
had again given him the slip ; and suspecting for what
purpose, he was terribly alarmed as well as chiffrmed ;
for the day-light approached, and be durst not make a
noise calling on his dog, for fear of alarming the neigh-
bourhood, in a place where both he and his dog were
known. He resolved therefore to abandon the animal to
himself, and take a road across the country which he
was sure his dog did not know, and could not follow.
He took that road ; but being on horseback, he coald
not get across the enclosed fields. He at kngth came
to a gate, which he closed behind him, and went about
half a mile farther, by a aigsag course, to a farm-house

THE SHEPHERD S I>OQ* 325

where both his sister and sweetheart lived ; and at that
plaee be remained until after breakfast time* The
pei^le oi this boose were all examined on the trial,
and no one had eitha: seen sheep, or heard them men-
tioned, save one man, who came np to the young man
ai be was standing at the stable-door, and told him
-that his dog had the sheep safe enough down at the
Crooked Yett, and he needed not hurry himself. He
answered, that the sheep were not his — ^they were
young Mr Thomson's, who had left them to has charge ;
and he was in search of a man to drive them, which
made him come off his road.

After. this discovery, it was impossible for the poor
fellow to get quit of them ; so he went down and
took possession of the stolen property once more, car-
ried them on, and disposed of them ; and, finally, the
transaction cost him his life. The dog, for the last
four or five miles that he had brought the sheep, could
have no other guide to the road his master had gone,
but the smell of his pony's feet.

It is also well known that there was a notorious
abeep-stealer in the county of Mid-Lothian, who, had
it not been for the skins and sheep's-heads, would never
have been condemned, as he could, with the greatest
ease, have proved an alibi every time on which there
were suspicions cherished against him. He always
went by one road, calling on his acquaintances, and ta-

S26 THE 6HEPHERD*S CALENDAR.

king care to appear to every body by whom he was
known ; while his dog went by another with the stolen
ftheep ; and then on the two felons meeting again, they
had nothing more ado than turn the sheep into an asso-
date's endomire, in whose house the dog was well fed
and entertained, and would have soon taken all the fot
sheep on the Lothian Edges to that house. This wai
likewise a female, a jet-black one, with a deep coat of
soft hair, but smooth-headed, and very strong and hand-
some in her make. On the disappearance of her mas-
ter, she lay about the hills and the places he had fre-
quented ; but never attempted to steal a drove by her-
self, nor yet any thing for her own hand. She was kept
a while by a relation of her master's ; but never acting
heartily in his service, soon came to an untimely end.
Of this there is little doubt, although some spread the
report that one evening, after uttering two or three loud
howls, she had vamshed !

THE END.

xdinbuboh:
printed by b%llakttnk and comfakt,

PAUL'S WORK, CAKOMaATX.

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