Being in this sober frame of mind, allow me to wind up this chapter--the
last catastrophe of my eventful life that I mean at present to make
public--with a few serious reflections; as it fears me, that, in much of
what I have set down, ill-natured people may see a good deal scarcely
consistent with my character for douceness and circumspection; but if
many wonderfuls have befallen to my share, it would be well to remember
that a man's lot is not of his own making. Musing within myself on the
chances and changes of time, the uncertainties of life, the frail thread
by which we are tacked to this world, and how the place that now knows us
shall soon know us no more, I could not help, for two or three days
previous to my quitting my dear old house and shop, taking my stick into
my hand, and wandering about all my old haunts and houffs--and need I
mention that among these were the road down to the Duke's south gate with
the deers on it, the waterside by Woodburn, the Cow-brigg, up the back
street, through the flesh-market, and over to the auld kirk in among the
headstones? For three walks, on three different days, I set out in
different directions; yet, strange to say! I aye landed in the
kirkyard:--and where is the man of woman born proud enough to brag, that
it shall not be his fate to land there at last?
Headstones and headstones around me! some newly put up, and others mossy
and grey; it was a humbling yet an edifying sight, preaching, as forcibly
as ever Maister Wiggie did in his best days, of the vanity and the
passingness of all human enjoyments. Mouldered to dust beneath the tufts
lay the blithe laddies with whom I have a hundred times played merry
games on moonlight nights; some were soon cut off; others grew up to
their full estate; and there stood I, a greyhaired man, among the weeds
and nettles, mourning over times never to return!
The reader will no doubt be anxious to hear a few words regarding my son
Benjie, who has turned out just as his friends and the world expected.
After his time with Ebenezer Packwood in Dalkeith, he served for four
years in Edinburgh, where he cut a distinguished figure, having shaved
and shorn lots of the nobility and gentry; among whom was a French
Duchess, and many other foreigners of distinction. In short, nothing
went down at the principal hotels but the expertness of Mr Benjamin
Wauch; and, had he been so disposed, he could have commenced on his own
footing with every chance of success; but knowing himself fully young,
and being anxious to see more of the world before settling, he took out a
passage in one of the Leith smacks, and set sail for London, where he
arrived, after a safe and prosperous voyage, without a hair of his head
injured. The only thing I am ashamed to let out about him is, that he is
now, and has been for some time past, principal shopman in a Wallflower
Hair-powder and Genuine Macassar Oil Warehouse, kept by three Frenchmen,
called Moosies Peroukey.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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