Bog-Myrtle and Peat: Tales Chiefly of Galloway Gathered from the Years 1889 to 1895Crockett, S. R. (Samuel Rutherford)
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Bog-Myrtle and Peat: Tales Chiefly of Galloway Gathered from the Years 1889 to 1895
Crockett, S. R. (Samuel Rutherford)
Dumfries and Galloway (Scotland) -- Fiction; Short stories
"We'll empty the auld carle's meal-ark, I'se warrant!" said Mickle
Andrew.
"Faith, lads, we'll get a decent drinking, caird-playin' minister in
young Calmsough--yin that's no' feared o' a guid braid oath!" cried
Chryston of Commonel.
And I was trembling in all my limbs lest they should see me. So before I
dared rise I heard the clatter of their horses' feet down the road. My
heart failed me, for I thought that in an hour they would be in
Edinburgh town and have audience of my lady, and so prefer their request
before me.
Yet I was not to be daunted, and went limping onward as best I might.
Nor had I gone far when, in a beautiful hollow, by the lintels of an inn
that had for a sign a burn-trout over the door, I came upon their
horses.
"Warm be your wames and dry your thrapples!" quoth I to myself; "an',
gin the brew be nappy and the company guid at the Fisher's Tryst, we'll
bring back the gospel yet to the holms of the Rowantree, or I am sair
mista'en!"
So when I got to my lady's house, speering at every watchman, it was
still mirk night. But in the shadow of an archway I sat me down to
wait, leaning my breast against the sharp end of my staff lest sleep
should overcome me. The hope of recommending the godly man, Mr.
Campbell, to my lady kept me from feeling hungered. Yet I was fain in
time to set about turning my pockets inside out. In them I searched for
crumblings of my cakes, and found a good many, so that I was not that
ill off.
As soon as it was day, and I saw that the servants of the house began to
stir, I went over and knocked soundly upon the great brass knocker. A
man with a cropped black poll and powder sifted among it, came and
ordered me away. I asked when my lady would be up.
"Not before ten of the clock," said he.
Now, I knew that this would never do for me, because the farmer bodies
would certainly arrive before that, drunk or sober. So I told Crophead
that he had better go and tell his mistress that there was one come
post-haste all the way from the parish of Rowantree, where her property
lay, and that the messenger must instantly speak with her.
But Crophead swore at me, and churlishly bade me begone at that hour of
the morning. But since he would have slammed the door on me, I set my
staff in the crevice and hoised it open again. Ay, and would have made
my oak rung acquaint with the side of his ill-favoured head, too, had
not a woman's voice cried down the stair to know the reason of the
disturbance.
"It is a great nowt from the country, and he will not go away," said
Crophead.
Then I stepped forward into the hall, sending him that withstood me over
on his back against the wall. Speaking high and clear as I do to my
first class, I said--
"I am Dominie Grier, parish schoolmaster of the parish of Rowantree,
madam, and I have come post-haste from that place to speak to her
ladyship."
Then I heard a further commotion, as of one shifting furniture, and
another voice that spoke rapidly from an inner chamber.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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