Scotland -- Social life and customs -- Fiction; Short stories
“A 'll tell ye, then, what a've got frae a sure hand, an' it's the story
o' mony a factor that is hauding the stick ower the heids o' freeborn
Scottish men.
“He's the cousin of an English lord, whose forbears got a title by
rouping their votes, an' ony conscience they hed, tae the highest bidder
in the bad auld days o' the Georges--that's the kind o' bluid that 's in
his veins, an' it 's no clean.
“His fouk started him in the airmy, but he hed tae leave--cairds or
drink, or baith. He wes a wine-merchant for a whilie an' failed, and
then he wes agent for a manure company, till they sent him aboot his
business.
“Aifterwards he sorned on his freends and gambled at the races, till
his cousin got roond Lord Kilspindie, and noo he 's left wi' the poor
o' life an' death ower fower pairishes while his lordship's awa'
traivellin' for his health in the East.
“It may be that he hes little releegion, as Drumsheugh says, an' we a'
ken he hes nae intelligence, but he hes plenty o' deevilry, an' he 's
made a beginnin' wi' persecutin' Burnbrae.
“A'm an Auld Kirk man,” concluded Jamie, “an' an Auld Kirk man a 'll dee
unless some misleared body tries tae drive me, an' then a' wud jine the
Free Kirk. Burnbrae is the stiffest Free Kirker in Drumtochty, an' mony
an argument a've hed wi' him, but that maks nae maitter the day.
“Ilka man hes a richt tae his ain thochts, an' is bund tae obey his
conscience accordin' tae his lichts, an' gin the best man that ever
lived is tae dictate oor releegion tae us, then oor fathers focht an'
deed in vain.”
Scottish reserve conceals a rich vein of heroic sentiment, and this
unexpected outburst of Jamie Soutar had an amazing effect on the
fathers, changing the fashion of their countenances and making them
appear as new men. When he began, they were a group of working farmers,
of slouching gait and hesitating speech and sordid habits, quickened for
the moment by curiosity to get a bit of parish news fresh from Jamie's
sarcastic tongue; as Jamie's fierce indignation rose to flame, a
“dour” look came into their faces, turning their eyes into steel, and
tightening their lips like a vice, and before he had finished every man
stood straight at his full height, with his shoulders set back and
his head erect, while Drumsheugh looked as if he saw an army in battle
array, and even Whinnie grasped his snuff-box in a closed fist as if it
had been a drawn sword. It was the danger signal of Scottish men, and
ancient persecutors who gave no heed to it in the past went crashing to
their doom.
“Div ye mean tae say, James Soutar,” said Drumsheugh in another voice
than his wont, quieter and sterner, “ye ken this thing for certain, that
the new factor hes offered Burnbrae the choice atween his kirk an' his
fairm?”
“That is sae, Drumsheugh, as a 'm stannin' in this kirkyaird--although
Burnbrae himsel', honest man, hes said naething as yet--an' a' thocht
the suner the pairish kent the better.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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