Wilson's Tales of the Borders and of Scotland, Volume 01
General
Wilson's Tales of the Borders and of Scotland, Volume 01
Scottish Borders (Scotland) -- Fiction
dexterity in this employment, was early shipped at his own request for
England. The most of the hands, about two hundred in all, on the station
where I remained, were Scotch and Irish, and a merry, jovial set we
were. The men had wives and families; and the governor or factor lived
in a large slated house, very like your manse, upon a gentle eminence, a
little inland. Towards the coast the land is sandy and flat; but in the
interior there is much wood, a very rich soil, and excellent fresh
water. Where we remained the water was brackish, and constituted the
chief inconvenience of our station. The factor or agent, commonly called
by the men the governor, used to visit us almost every day, and remained
much on board when ships were loading for Europe. One fine summer's day
we were all enjoying the luxury of bathing, when, all on a sudden, the
shout was raised--'A shark! a shark!' I had just taken my place in the
boat, and was still undressed, when I observed one man disappear, being
dragged under the water by the sea monster. The factor, who was swimming
about in the neighbourhood, seemed to be paralyzed by terror, for he
made for the boat, plashing like a dog, with his hands and arms
frequently stretched out of the water. I saw his danger, and immediately
plunged in to his rescue, which, with some difficulty, I at last
effected.
"Poor Pat Moonie was seen no more; nor did the devouring monster
reappear. The factor immediately acknowledged his obligations to me, by
carrying me home with him, and introducing me to his lady and an only
daughter--I think I never beheld a more beautiful creature; but I looked
upon her as a being of a different order from myself, and I still
thought of my own dear Sally and sweet home at Cellardykes. Through the
factor's kindness, I got the management of a boat's crew, with
considerable emolument which belonged to the situation. I then behoved
to dress better, at least while on land, than I used to do, and I was an
almost daily visitor at Codfield House, the name of the captain's
residence. My affairs prospered; I made, and had no way of spending
money. The factor was my banker, and his fair daughter wrote out the
acknowledgments for her father to sign. One beautiful Sabbath-day, after
the factor--who officiated at our small station as clergyman--had read
us prayers and a sermon, I took a walk into the interior of the country,
where, with a book in her hand, and an accompaniment of Newfoundland
dogs, I chanced to meet with Miss Woodburn, the factor's beautiful
child. She was only fourteen, but quite grown, and as blooming a piece
of womanhood as ever wore kid gloves or black leather. She seemed
somewhat embarrassed at my presence, and blushed scarlet, entreating me
to prevent one of her dogs from running away with her glove, which he
was playfully tossing about in his mouth. The dog would not surrender
his charge to any one but to his mistress; and, in the struggle, he bit
my hand somewhat severely.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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