Wilson's Tales of the Borders and of Scotland, Volume 11 — John Shaqi
Wilson's Tales of the Borders and of Scotland, Volume 11
General
Wilson's Tales of the Borders and of Scotland, Volume 11
Scottish Borders (Scotland) -- Fiction
"I couldna get the key frae Andrew Todd," said the gratified deacon,
"unless I told him an untruth."
"A lee for guid has been justified," said the wife. "Rahab was
approved for hiding the spies, and denyin their presence; but I
couldna ask ye to imitate Rahab. I hae nae richt to dictate to my
husband."
"But wouldna ye _wish_ me, my dear Peggy, to stretch a point to get
yer faither's tears dried up, and yer ain stopped? Dinna hesitate,
Peggy--speak yer mind bauldly--I'll forgie ye."
"Ou ay," whimpered the gentle dame. "If Rahab was justified, sae will
Murdoch Waldie be forgiven."
"Weel--I'll try the boxmaster again," said the deacon.
Next day, accordingly, he threw himself in the way of Mr Andrew Todd.
The boxmaster had been in the corporation hall, and was returning home
to deposit the key of the box in the place where he kept it. The
deacon got him inveigled into a public-house, where, when they had
seated themselves, he saw that Mr Todd was blushing scarlet, doubtless
at the recollection of the scene that had taken place the day before.
"Ye needna be ashamed, Andrew," said the deacon, "at the conduct of
Mrs Jean Todd. _Ye_ werena to blame--I assoilzie ye. Think nae mair
o't. You can just sign a fresh bill. I'll buy the stamp round the
corner at Dickson's, and we can draw it out here."
"I beg yer pardon," replied Andrew; "I maunna get into that scrape
again. I'll never resist the authority o' Mrs Jean Todd mair on
earth. To her I owe my boxmastership--my trade--my status--my
health--my happiness--and a' that's worth livin for in this evil
warld; and she will never hae it to say again, that I'm no gratefu for
the care she taks o' me, and the love she bears to me. Let the warld
say, if they like, that I am henpecked--I dinna care."
"Weel, weel," replied the deacon; "we were speakin o' bills. Are ye
quite sure that ye haena allowed the days o' grace in Templeton's bill
to expire? There's indorsers there; and if it is as I suspect, ye've
lost recourse, and may be liable for the debt."
"Mercy on us!" cried the terrified Andrew. "It's impossible. Dinna
say't. Let me count." (Using his fingers). "Count, deacon--count,
man."
"I think we had better see the bill itsel," cried the deacon. "Where's
the key?"
"Here it is," replied the simple boxmaster, taking it out.
"Give it to me," said the deacon, taking it out of Andrew's hand;
"we'll sune see if the bill's past due."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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