‘Never mind that being out o’ sorts, Captain,’ said Mrs. Mac-Guffog, who
now followed them into the room; then, turning her back to the prisoner,
with as much delicacy as the action admitted, she whipped from her knee
her ferret garter, and applied it to splicing and fastening the broken
bed-post; then used more pins than her apparel could well spare to fasten
up the bed-curtains in festoons; then shook the bed-clothes into
something like form; then flung over all a tattered patch-work quilt, and
pronounced that things were now ‘something purpose-like.’ ‘And there’s
your bed, Captain,’ pointing to a massy four-posted hulk, which, owing to
the inequality of the floor, that had sunk considerably (the house,
though new, having been built by contract), stood on three legs, and held
the fourth aloft as if pawing the air, and in the attitude of advancing
like an elephant passant upon the panel of a coach,--‘there’s your bed
and the blankets; but if ye want sheets, or bowster, or pillow, or ony
sort o’ nappery for the table, or for your hands, ye ‘ll hae to speak to
me about it, for that’s out o’ the gudeman’s line (Mac-Guffog had by this
time left the room, to avoid, probably, any appeal which might be made to
him upon this new exaction), and he never engages for ony thing like
that.’
‘In God’s name,’ said Bertram, ‘let me have what is decent, and make any
charge you please.’
‘Aweel, aweel, that’s sune settled; we’ll no excise you neither, though
we live sae near the custom-house. And I maun see to get you some fire
and some dinner too, I’se warrant; but your dinner will be but a puir ane
the day, no expecting company that would be nice and fashious.’ So
saying, and in all haste, Mrs. Mac-Guffog fetched a scuttle of live
coals, and having replenished ‘the rusty grate, unconscious of a fire’
for months before, she proceeded with unwashed hands to arrange the
stipulated bed-linen (alas, how different from Ailie Dinmont’s!), and,
muttering to herself as she discharged her task, seemed, in inveterate
spleen of temper, to grudge even those accommodations for which she was
to receive payment. At length, however, she departed, grumbling between
her teeth, that ‘she wad rather lock up a haill ward than be fiking about
thae niff-naffy gentles that gae sae muckle fash wi’ their fancies.’
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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