Inchbracken: The Story of a Fama ClamosaCleland, Robert
General
Inchbracken: The Story of a Fama Clamosa
Cleland, Robert
Historical fiction; Scotland -- Fiction
And so John was launched on an extended narrative of his day's spoil.
Every bolt and plunge and feint and double of his fish was duly
recorded, with sufficient local description to make the whole
perfectly intelligible. He told his story remarkably well, and quite
aroused the interest of his auditors. Too much so, perhaps, if the
General's opinion had been asked; but then the General may have been
hypercritical, owing to an idea he had of elevating dinner into one of
the fine arts. 'You see,' he would say 'one can only dine once in
twenty-four hours, that is to say if one is not to be talked about,
which would be unpleasant, or to lose use of one's liver, which would
be worse. And so, for myself I confess I look forward to dinner as the
event of the day, and like to approach it in a proper spirit. There
should be some talk of course, because we are neither beasts nor
cannibals; but it should be light, gay, and cheerful, for good spirits
promote digestion--yet not too engrossing--and especially--no
discussion! That distracts the attention, till a man may not know
whether it is a quail or a snipe he is eating. We want a cheerful
tranquility at dinner, in order to appreciate rightly the dishes
submitted; and give due attention to the business before us and that,
I take it, is the deglutition of food.'
On the present occasion, however, the General's views were neither
asked nor propounded, and John rambled pleasantly forward through the
various events of his day.
'By the way, Kenneth! I met your old crony, young Brown, this morning.
Poor lad! Fanaticism has changed him sadly; long-haired, lank-jawed,
and saucer-eyed, that is what he has become. He might be a Covenanter,
or a member of the Barebones Parliament. He appeared to be returning
home from Inverlyon, where he must have been last night, for it was
about eight o'clock when I met him on the road this morning, jogging
along, (how he used to gallop about the countryside of old!) and
mounted, of all beasts for a douce Free Kirk priest to be astride, on
that poaching rascal Patey Soutar's pony!'
'Hm!' said the General,'I always said secession was just inserting the
small end of the wedge! They quarrel with our vested right of
patronage now, but that is only the beginning. By and by they will
question our right to the grouse on our own hills, and want to repeal
the game laws! If they had their way, I wonder would they leave us a
roof over our heads, or a coat on our backs? That comes of your Reform
Bills! and putting the government of the country in the hands of
people who have nothing to lose! But I did not expect to see the son
of my old friend array himself with such as these. It is very sad.'
'Did he seem cheerful, John?' asked Kenneth.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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