Clergy -- Fiction; Love stories; Scotland -- Fiction
"I'm no ane o' thae farmers," he said, truthfully, "that's aye girding
at the weather, and Elspeth and me kens that we hae been dealt wi'
bountifully since we took this farm wi' gey anxious hearts. That
woman, dominie, is eneuch to put a brave face on a coward, and it's
no langer syne than yestreen when I was sitting in the dumps, looking
at the aurora borealis, which I canna but regard as a messenger o'
woe, that she put her hand on my shoulder and she says, 'Waster Lunny,
twenty year syne we began life thegither wi' nothing but the claethes
on our back, and an it please God we can begin it again, for I hae you
and you hae me, and I'm no cast down if you're no.' Dominie, is there
mony sic women in the warld as that?"
"Many a one," I said.
"Ay, man, it shamed me, for I hae a kind o' delight in angering
Elspeth, just to see what she'll say. I could hae ta'en her on my knee
at that minute, but the bairns was there, and so it wouldna hae dune.
But I cheered her up, for, after all, the drought canna put us so far
back as we was twenty years syne, unless it's true what my father
said, that the aurora borealis is the devil's rainbow. I saw it sax
times in July month, and it made me shut my een. You was out admiring
it, dominie, but I can never forget that it was seen in the year
twelve just afore the great storm. I was only a laddie then, but I
mind how that awful wind stripped a' the standing corn in the glen in
less time than we've been here at the water's edge. It was called the
deil's besom. My father's hinmost words to me was, 'It's time eneuch
to greet, laddie, when you see the aurora borealis.' I mind he was so
complete ruined in an hour that he had to apply for relief frae the
poor's rates. Think o' that, and him a proud man. He would tak'
nothing till one winter day when we was a' starving, and syne I gaed
wi' him to speir for't, and he telled me to grip his hand ticht, so
that the cauldness o' mine micht gie him courage. They were doling out
the charity in the Town's House, and I had never been in't afore. I
canna look at it now without thinking o' that day when me and my
father gaed up the stair thegither. Mr. Duthie was presiding at the
time, and he wasna muckle older than Mr. Dishart is now. I mind he
speired for proof that we was needing, and my father couldna speak. He
just pointed at me. 'But you have a good coat on your back yoursel','
Mr. Duthie said, for there were mony waiting, sair needing. 'It was
lended him to come here,' I cried, and without a word my father opened
the coat, and they saw he had nothing on aneath, and his skin blue wi
'cauld. Dominie, Mr. Duthie handed him one shilling and saxpence, and
my father's fingers closed greedily on't for a minute, and syne it
fell to the ground. They put it back in his hand, and it slipped out
again, and Mr. Duthie gave it back to him, saying, 'Are you so cauld
as that?' But, oh, man, it wasna cauld that did it, but shame o' being
on the rates.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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