Wilson's Tales of the Borders and of Scotland, Volume 05
General
Wilson's Tales of the Borders and of Scotland, Volume 05
Scottish Borders (Scotland) -- Fiction
I pass over, likewise, the mournful recollection of my worthy father's
death. He was swept away in an avalanche, which, on the melting of the
snow, detached itself from the mountain's brow. He and Help perished
together. Oh, I remember, as it were but yesterday, Watch's look when he
entered the house, and all but told us in words what had happened. But
what avail such recollections? My father was dead, and, in a few hours,
my mother followed him; she was seized prematurely with her pains, and,
ere assistance could be procured, there was a dead mother and a
still-born child. I wonder yet that I kept my senses; but I was
stupified. My uncle, a gruff and worldly-minded, but shrewd carle,
arranged and managed everything, and took me home with him, the day
after the double funeral.
My mother's brother--with whom I now lived, and by whom I was educated,
in the town of Moffat, Dumfriesshire--had made a respectable
independence as a packman; and having only one son, and being a widower,
he found no great inconvenience in accommodating me. His son was grown
up; and, having a natural taste for a sea-faring life, he was, soon
after my arrival, placed as middy on board of an East Indiaman; so my
uncle and I had the whole house to ourselves. But my uncle's temper was
bad; and there was that in his manner to me which seemed ever and anon
to say--You are devilishly in my road, I wish I were quit of you.
Accordingly, being now a pretty well-educated lad of seventeen, I cast
about in my own mind for a profession, or some way or other of
supporting myself, independent of my snarling relative. Jamaica, I
remember, was thought of, and I even had some pairs of shoes made for
the voyage; but the person died on whose patronage my uncle relied, and
the scheme luckily blew up. I wrote a good hand, and was quite master of
book-keeping, both by single and double entry; so I was put to a
writer's desk in Dumfries, with many admonitions, and much wise
instruction. But I had been accustomed to the hills and streams, and
fishing, and all the varieties of an active life; and so, one fine
evening, I went out to walk on the banks of the Nith, but forgot to
return to my desk next morning. In fact, I had returned to Moffat,
telling my uncle that I was tired of sitting, and would rather, like
himself, carry a pack. At this he seemed at first somewhat startled;
but, finding me resolute, he at last consented, and agreed to furnish me
with credit to the amount of L20 sterling. A suitable box was
accordingly purchased, and a somewhat limited assortment of penknives,
watch-seals, scissors, thimbles, needles, pins, brooches, Bibles, and
Psalm-books, with a small assortment of shawls, waistcoat pieces, and
Kilmarnock night-caps, &c., were selected and packed up; and the
following morning was fixed upon for my departure, when my uncle
requested my company for a little in his own small sitting room, off the
kitchen.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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