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diff --git a/76637-h/76637-h.htm b/76637-h/76637-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..469b260 --- /dev/null +++ b/76637-h/76637-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,5302 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html> +<html lang="en"> + +<head> + +<link rel="icon" href="images/img-cover.jpg" type="image/x-cover"> + +<meta charset="utf-8"> + +<title> +The Project Gutenberg eBook of Wee Willie Paterson, by W. Grant Stevenson +</title> + +<style> +body { color: black; + background: white; + margin-right: 10%; + margin-left: 10%; + font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; + text-align: justify } + +p {text-indent: 1.5em } + +p.noindent {text-indent: 0% } + +p.t1 {text-indent: 0% ; + font-size: 200%; + text-align: center } + +p.t2 {text-indent: 0% ; + font-size: 150%; + text-align: center } + +p.t2b {text-indent: 0% ; + font-size: 150%; + font-weight: bold; + text-align: center } + +p.t3 {text-indent: 0% ; + font-size: 100%; + text-align: center } + +p.t3b {text-indent: 0% ; + font-size: 100%; + font-weight: bold; + text-align: center } + +p.t4 {text-indent: 0% ; + font-size: 80%; + text-align: center } + +p.t4b {text-indent: 0% ; + font-size: 80%; + font-weight: bold; + text-align: center } + +p.t5 {text-indent: 0% ; + font-size: 60%; + text-align: center } + +h1 { text-align: center } +h2 { text-align: center } +h3 { text-align: center } +h4 { text-align: center } +h5 { text-align: center } + +p.poem {text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 10%; } + +p.thought {text-indent: 0% ; + letter-spacing: 2em ; + text-align: center } + +p.letter {text-indent: 1.5em; + margin-left: 5% ; + margin-right: 5% } + +p.footnote {text-indent: 0% ; + font-size: 80%; + margin-left: 10% ; + margin-right: 10% } + +.smcap { font-variant: small-caps } + +p.transnote {text-indent: 0% ; + margin-left: 10% ; + margin-right: 10% } + +p.intro {font-size: 90% ; + text-indent: -5% ; + margin-left: 5% ; + margin-right: 0% } + +p.quote {text-indent: 1.5em ; + margin-left: 0% ; + margin-right: 0% } + +p.finis { font-size: larger ; + text-align: center ; + text-indent: 0% ; + margin-left: 0% ; + margin-right: 0% } + +p.capcenter { margin-left: 0; + margin-right: 0 ; + margin-bottom: .5% ; + margin-top: 0; + font-weight: normal; + float: none ; + clear: both ; + text-indent: 0%; + text-align: center } + +img.imgcenter { margin-left: auto; + margin-bottom: 0; + margin-top: 1%; + margin-right: auto; } + +</style> + +</head> + +<body> +<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 76637 ***</div> + +<p><br><br></p> + +<p class="capcenter"> +<a id="img-cover"></a> +<br> +<img class="imgcenter" src="images/img-cover.jpg" alt="Cover art"> +</p> + +<p><br><br></p> + +<p class="capcenter"> +<a id="img-front"></a> +<br> +<img class="imgcenter" src="images/img-front.jpg" alt=""WE'RE WAITING ON YOU, MUM," HE SAID TO HIS PARTNER <i>By Henry W. Kerr; R.S.A.</i>"> +<br> +"WE'RE WAITING ON YOU, MUM," HE SAID TO HIS PARTNER<br> +<i>By Henry W. Kerr; R.S.A.</i> +</p> + +<p><br><br></p> + +<p class="capcenter"> +<a id="img-title"></a> +<br> +<img class="imgcenter" src="images/img-title.jpg" alt="Title page"> +</p> + +<h1> +<br><br> + WEE<br> + JOHNNIE<br> + PATERSON<br> + <span style="font-size: smaller; font-weight: normal">& OTHER HUMOROUS SKETCHES</span><br> +</h1> + +<p><br></p> + +<p class="t2"> + BY W. GRANT STEVENSON, R.S.A.<br> +</p> + +<p><br><br></p> + +<p class="t3"> + T. N. FOULIS<br> + EDINBURGH, LONDON & BOSTON<br> + MCMXIV<br> +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p class="t4"> + <i>New Edition, with additional sketches,<br> + published September 1914.</i><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p class="t4"> + Printed by BALLANTYNE, HANSON & Co.<br> + at the Ballantyne Press, Edinburgh<br> +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p class="t3b"> +PREFACE +</p> + +<p> +Laziness and modesty are my +excuses for publishing the following Stories. +</p> + +<p> +Being frequently accosted by friends and +strangers, who say, "Would it be too much to +ask you to write out one or two of your Stories +for me, as I occasionally do a bit of reciting +myself? and if you wrote out one or two for me I +would be obliged," I feel that my spare +evenings would be rendered monotonous by the +repetition of writing them, and at the same time +I have a diffidence in refusing; it has therefore +occurred to me that an easy and pleasant way +out of my embarrassment would be to have +them printed, so that I could present copies to +the gentlemen who honour me by their requests. +Had it not been for chronic laziness I should +have responded to a flattering letter from a +gentleman in Natal, who wrote: +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p> +"DEAR SIR,—When in Edinburgh I had the pleasure of +hearing you give some of your Stories, and if you would +kindly write me out a few I would give them to the best +of my ability,—and I am considered rather good at +reciting,—and they would be greatly appreciated by the fellows +here." +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p> +I have not answered the request, though the +postage has been reduced from sixpence to +twopence-halfpenny, and I often think how +ashamed I should be if the stranger were to +revisit Edinburgh and upbraid me for my want of +courtesy. We are told to "be kind to strangers," +and I have missed an opportunity. +</p> + +<p> +With one or two exceptions, the Stories have +appeared in the <i>Edinburgh Evening Dispatch</i>, +and are here reprinted with the kind +permission of the Editor. W. G. S. +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p> +This the Fourth Edition of +<i>Wee Johnnie Paterson</i> is being issued in +compliance with repeated requests, in more +convenient form and with new stories added. +The authorship and paternity of "David and +Goliath," having undergone various vicissitudes, +is here inserted in compliance with perennial +demands. W. G. S. +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p class="t3b"> +THE LIST OF CONTENTS +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p class="noindent"> +<a href="#chap01">WEE JOHNNIE PATERSON</a> +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +<a href="#chap02">BOYS</a> +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +<a href="#chap03">AN AMATEUR COOK</a> +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +<a href="#chap04">THE M'CRANKYS AT A PARTY</a> +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +<a href="#chap05">BURNS'S ANNIVERSARY AND THE MILDNESS OF THE SEASON</a> +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +<a href="#chap06">JOHNNIE GIBB'S FUNERAL</a> +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +<a href="#chap07">SPRING CLEANING</a> +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +<a href="#chap08">A MARRIAGE</a> +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +<a href="#chap09">AFTER-DINNER SPEECHES</a> +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +<a href="#chap10">"HOW D'YE DO?"</a> +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +<a href="#chap11">M'CRANKY'S BRACE OF GROUSE</a> +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +<a href="#chap12">M'CRANKY'S DECEPTIONS ABOUT GOLF</a> +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +<a href="#chap13">MRS. M'CRANKY AT THE INTERNATIONAL FOOTBALL MATCH</a> +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +<a href="#chap14">MR. M'CRANKY</a> +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +<a href="#chap15">THE SINGING LESSON</a> +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +<a href="#chap16">DAVID AND GOLIATH</a> +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p class="t3b"> + LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS<br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p class="noindent"> + <a href="#img-front">"WE'RE WAITING ON YOU, MUM," HE SAID TO HIS PARTNER</a> ..... Frontispiece<br> + <i>By Henry W. Kerr, R.S.A.</i><br> +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> + <a href="#img-013">"DROPPING A COPPER INTO THE DISH OF A BLIND MAN</a><br> + <i>By Henry W. Kerr, R.S.A.</i><br> +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> + <a href="#img-029">"THE CONFOUNDED PAN WAS LEAKING, AND I HAD NOT NOTICED IT"</a><br> + <i>By J. A. Ford</i><br> +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> + <a href="#img-055">THE BRIG O' DOON</a><br> + <i>By J. Marjoribanks Hay</i><br> +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> + <a href="#img-067">"I'M JUST WASHIN' SOME PEENIES"</a><br> + <i>By R. M'Gregor, R.S.A.</i><br> +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> + <a href="#img-080">TWO HAPPY HUSBANDS</a><br> + <i>By R. B. Nisbet, R.S.A.</i><br> +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> + <a href="#img-115">"I'M FAIR LAME WI' THAE RHEUMATICS"</a><br> + <i>By W. Grant Stevenson, R.S.A.</i><br> +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap01"></a></p> + +<h3> +WEE JOHNNIE PATERSON +</h3> + +<p> +Mrs. Johnstone was a woman +who had a bad habit of being unable to tell one +story at a time; she was always branching off +with parenthetical observations. One day she +came to me in a state of great excitement and +said, "Isn't this an awfu' thing that's happened +to wee Johnnie Paterson?" +</p> + +<p> +"I haven't heard about it," I said. "What is +it?" +</p> + +<p> +"Weel, I'll tell ye hoo it happened, John—tuts, +excuse me ca'in' ye John—that's my man's +name, ye ken; an' when a wummin's been mairrit +for three-an'-twenty year—ay, it's a lang +time! though I couldna wish a kinder or a +better man than John—no—imphm; an' d'ye +ken, we've seen some gey ups an' doons since +I was mairrit. D'ye ken, I mind when the sugar +was a shillin' the pund an' the loaf was +eleven-pence—imphm; ay, bit that's no what I was +tellin' ye though. What was't I was sayin', +again? Ouay, aboot wee Johnnie Paterson. I'm +sorry for the laddie, though he's a wild laddie +tae. I'll tell ye hoo it happened: I was jist gaun +awa' doon for a penny wuth o' soor milk tae the +bairns an' John—for he's rale fond o' a drink o' +'soor dook,' as he ca's 't. He says he wudna gie +a drink o' soor dook for a' yer beers; an' I'm +share it's a great blessin', an' a hantle cheaper. +There's Tam Wud's wife: I dinna ken hoo she +manages to bring up her bairns, for Tam never +gangs hame wi' his wages sober on a Setterday +nicht; but I'm thinkin' the grocer kens, puir +man! an' d'ye ken that's a thing I wudna like +tae dae—no—imphm. Aweel, ay, bit that's no +what I was gaun tae tell ye though. What was't +again? Ou ay, aboot wee Johnnie Paterson, +puir laddie! D'ye ken, I'm rale sorry for the +laddie's mother tae. I'll tell ye hoo it happened: +I was jist gaun awa' doon for the penny wuth o' +soor milk, as I was sayin', tae Mrs. White, puir +body! for d'ye ken, I aye like tae get my milk +fae Mrs. White, for she deserves great credit +for the way she's brocht up her family since her +man was killed, seven year since, an' left her +wi' five sma' bairns. Puir Tam White! he was +comin' hame yae day wi' a cairt o' gress for the +kye, an' disn't yin o' the wheels come aff, an' +here was Tam landit on the croon o' his heid on +a stane, an' he was fund lyin' deid—through +pure laziness—ay, for if he hadna been sittin' +on a loadened cairt he couldna a' been cowpit +aff, ye ken. Aweel, ay, bit that's no what I was +gaun to tell ye though. What was't I was—ou +ay—aboot wee Johnnie Paterson. I'll tell ye hoo +it happened: here am n't I gaun awa' doon for +the pennywuth o' soor milk, as I was sayin', an' +I had my wee bit bairn wi' me, an' it began tae +whine an' greet, an' I couldna think what was +wrang wi't, for it's a guid bairn for usual; an' +when I lookit at the shawl that's roond it, isn't +here a preen stickin' in't, and ye couldna expec' +the bit bairn tae be guid, an' me makin'a +preen-cushion o't. Ay! it's as guid a bairn's ever I +had, an' I've had five; but three o' them's deid. +Yin deid wi' its teeth, an' yin deid wi' its inside, +an' yin deid wi' its granny, but it's a rale healthy +place this though; they tell me it's eleven +hunder feet aboon the level o' the sea. But I'm +thinkin' that's jist a kind o' guess wark, for +there's nae sea here tae measure fae; ay, ye'll +find it a quiet place this, but d'ye ken it's +naething tae the shepherd's hoose up the water; +they're seven miles fae onybody, an' their wee +bit lassie—a bairn twa year an' a half auld—she +never had seen onybody in her life but her +faither an' her mother, an' yae day there was a +man gaun fishin' up the water, an' when she +saw um she ran awa' into the hoose an' cries, +'Mother! there's something comin' up the water +the same shape's my faither.' Ay, ye'll find it +an aufu' difference fae Edinburgh. I never was +in Edinburgh but yince. Me an' John—that's +my man, ye ken—gaed awa' in tae see oor +auldest laddie Johnnie, a sojer up at the Castle +yonder; an' when we gaed awa' up, here he's +walkin' up an' doon at the front door, an' I says, +'What are ye walkin' aboot there for, Johnnie? +Wull they no let ye in?'" +</p> + +<p> +"'Let me in! wummin; I'm walkin' here for +a century.'" +</p> + +<p> +"So John—that's my man, ye ken—he says, +'Are ye no comin' doon tae the Lawnmarket +for a refreshment?'" +</p> + +<p> +"'Mun,' says he, 'I canna leave my post.'" +</p> + +<p> +"'Ta, gie that laddie a penny tae haud yer +gun.'" +</p> + +<p> +"Aweel, we gaed awa' doon tae the Lawnmarket, +an' d'ye ken there was the awfu'est row +ever ye heard tell o' when we gaed back, for +leavin' the Castle in chairge o' a wee laddie. +Ay, bit that's no what I was gaun tae tell ye +though. What was't I was sayin', again? Ouay, +aboot wee Johnnie Paterson. I'll tell ye hoo it +happened. I was gaun awa' doon for the pennywuth +o' soor milk, as I was sayin', an' jist as I +was gaun roond by the back o' the auld quarry—d'ye +ken, I aye said they should pit a palin' +roond that place—here's a' the bairns comin' +up greetin,' an'—is that a gig comin' up the +road? That'll be the doctor's cairrage, I wager +ye. I'll awa' doon an' see what he says is wrang +wi' um." +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p> +And that is all I ever heard about the +"fearful accident." +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap02"></a></p> + +<h3> +BOYS +</h3> + +<p> +'Boys will be boys'; it is a great +pity, but it is an evil we have to face. There is +a great difference between the boys of last +generation and the present,—not in favour of the +latter. They have all the faults of their fathers, +with new ones added. It is rather hard on the +men of to-day, that when they were boys they +were scarcely allowed to speak "in company," +and now they never get a chance if there is a +boy present. +</p> + +<p> +With the improvement in education, the boy +of to-day knows all about everything, and he is +eager to make his elders as wise as himself. I +have just had a week's experience with one of +these walking encyclopædias, and my head is a +jumble of statistics, chemistry, and general +information, imparted from my nephew, who has +been living with us. The first night he came I +thought I would interest him by developing +some photographs taken on a cycling tour. It +did not strike me at the time that being a boy of +to-day he knew everything, and I had at once +to change the role of instructor for that of pupil. +I was just about to start explanations of the +process, when he said, "Yes, I know; Franky Scott +in our class takes photographs; do you prepare +your own plates?" "No," I said, "I buy +them." "Oh! you could make them cheaper; I'll tell you +how it is done. Nitrate of silver and bromide of +potassium throw a white precipitate on the +plate; the nitrate, being sensitive to light, +receives a black impression of anything thrown +on it; and if you want to know any more about +it, I'll write to <i>The Boys Own Paper</i>." To +preserve my dignity I had to pretend that I knew +all about it, but hadn't time to prepare plates. I +am sure, however, that before the week was over +he saw through me, and felt that if he only had +me under his care for a month or two he could +make something of me. +</p> + +<p> +Two ladies, who had come from Ayr to see +the Exhibition, called on us, and in the course +of conversation one asked when we were going +to visit them at Ayr. But before I could reply +the "encyclopedia" said, "Ayr, on the river +of that name, celebrated in connection with +the——" +</p> + +<p> +"Hold your tongue," I broke in; but I +heard him mumbling, "Poet Burns; population +24,000." +</p> + +<p> +When they spoke of going to the Forth +Bridge he set off again. "Its greatest span is +1710 feet, height above water 361 feet, while +its total length is 2766½ yards." +</p> + +<p> +He seemed delighted when it was arranged +that he should go to the Exhibition with the +ladies; and so was I, as I was not going. No +doubt he was thinking of the amount of information +he could give them, acting as guide; but +he was rather crestfallen when he came home +and told me that he stupidly, at their request, +took them to the Women's Section, and could +not get them out. He wanted to explain +dynamos to them. +</p> + +<p> +I remember when I was his age my ambition +was to be an engine-driver, but he says he would +like to be a professor of chemistry. +</p> + +<p> +I think teachers nowadays make a mistake +in adding logic to their subjects for study; there +is more than enough of it inherent in boys. One +night his mother was telling him how bad he +had been, and asked if he would try to be good. +Of course he promised. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, will you begin to-morrow?" +</p> + +<p> +"Oh! that's awfully soon," he said. +</p> + +<p> +Ages may come and go, but boys will remain +the same as far as anything bad is concerned. +Give a boy an apple, and he will not enjoy it to +the full till he finds another boy beside whom +he can eat it, the other boy's envy bringing out +its full flavour. +</p> + +<p class="capcenter"> +<a id="img-013"></a> +<br> +<img class="imgcenter" src="images/img-013.jpg" alt=""DROPPING A COPPER INTO THE DISH OF A BLIND MAN" By Henry W. Kerr, R.S.A."> +<br> +"DROPPING A COPPER INTO THE DISH OF A BLIND MAN" <br> +<i>By Henry W. Kerr, R.S.A.</i> +</p> + +<p> +The other day I was going to Glasgow; and +having no desire to go via Queensferry on the +North British line, I went to the Caledonian +Station. As I had a few minutes to spare, I was +looking through the railings to the Lothian +Road, when my attention was drawn to a boy +dropping a copper into the tin dish of a blind +man who was reading the Bible. The reading +suddenly stopped; but before the man could +put his hand in the dish the penny was quietly +withdrawn, dangling at the end of a string. +The operation was repeated, and the third trial +convinced the man that he was being "sold." "There +he's coming again!" said the boy. The +man grasped a heavy stick, and just as a +minister was passing he received a firm broad cut +across the middle of his vest. As soon as he +recovered he looked about for a policeman to give +the man in charge, but I hurried down and +explained to him. I may have been mistaken, but +I thought I recognised him from a sketch I had +seen as one who had taken a prominent part +in the Queen's Park Demonstration, and I +strangely seemed to forgive the boy, who +however had not waited for pardon. +</p> + +<p> +My nephew was not long in the house till he +had examined everything, and among other +things he fished out an old album with a musical +box attached. I had put it aside some years ago +as broken. "Put it out of the way," I said, "it's +useless." But this only added to his curiosity: +he took it to another room, and soon brought it +back, playing at a furious rate, as if glad at being +released, and anxious to make up for lost time. +I hate musical boxes. One never knows what +they are playing, and, like boys, they seem +anxious to exhibit all they know. An +explanation of what had been wrong was given to me +in a tone which showed my informant saw that +mechanics was another thing I knew little of. +The disconnecting action of the swivel +had—something or another, I forget what; but all that +was required was—something else. I said I had +never bothered about it, which was quite true; +but I am sure he felt I could not have mended +it if I had tried. +</p> + +<p> +The pace of the tunes gradually got slower, +and what at first seemed to be a hornpipe was +now like a dead march. Then it seemed to be +going to sleep, and a note only came out now +and then, and it slept, but not for long; he had +found that the key of the dining-room clock +fitted it, and he wound it up again. +</p> + +<p> +"Oh! take it away," I said; and he went off to +the next room, but no doors could keep out the +sound. +</p> + +<p> +A happy thought occurred to me: I would +give him a pistol to keep him quiet. (When I +was a boy I was the envy of all my companions, +being the possessor of a shilling muzzle-loader. +But here was a breech-loading Tranter: how +much greater would be his delight!) I called +him and said, "There's a pistol and a box of +cartridges; go out to the garden and see if you can +shoot a crow." I expected he would receive it +with delight, but he looked at it with the air of a +connoisseur and said, "Franky Scott has a +pin-fire." I explained that this was a later and better +invention, and he seemed pleased that he would +be able to "take the bounce" out of Franky +Scott when he saw him. He seemed to be having +good sport, judging by the number of shots he +was firing, and it was not much of an improvement +on the musical box. When he came in to +dinner he said it was a "stunner." He did not +shoot well at first, but after a little he could +strike the label on a box, and some of the bullets +went right through. +</p> + +<p> +A horrible suspicion came across me, and I +rushed to the back garden, hoping I was wrong; +but I wasn't. (One day, in going through the +Exhibition, I was induced to taste a celebrated +blend of whisky. I had praised it, of course, and +could not go away without ordering a case, and +it was taken outside to be unpacked.) I got a +hammer and chisel, and injured several fingers +in my hurry to see the extent of the damage. +The man had told me there was not a headache +in the case; and he was right,—there was a little +in the bottom of one or two bottles. +</p> + +<p> +Of course the boy was sorry, but not for long. +"Talking of whisky," he said, "d'ye know there's +four times more alcohol in absinthe? Sulphate +of iron is mixed with it, and that's what gives +it the semi-opaque look when mixed with +water." +</p> + +<p> +The ladies were at dinner with us, and one was +praising the chutney. "That's the real Indian +stuff," she said. "Mrs. Hood, a friend of ours, +tried to make it, but it was a failure." +</p> + +<p> +Of course the boy knew all about it. "I know +how it would be: she would use apples instead of +the Indian mangel, and it would be too sweet." +</p> + +<p> +"How do you know?" I asked. +</p> + +<p> +"Because Franky Scott—that's a boy in our +class——" +</p> + +<p> +"That'll do." +</p> + +<p> +"Well, his father——" +</p> + +<p> +"Now, hold your tongue"; and I was pleased +to think that Franky Scott would have the pride +taken out of him about that pistol. +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p> +After all, I daresay my nephew is good enough +as boys go. But then, look how boys go! +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap03"></a></p> + +<h3> +AN AMATEUR COOK +</h3> + +<p> +I wonder if any man is as clever +as he imagines himself. I know I have not +the confidence in myself I had a month ago as +an amateur cook. I think it was my friend +Davidson who first put the idea in my head to try +my hand at cooking. The way he would +describe the cooking of steaks on his yacht would +make any one's mouth water, and it seemed to +be always steaks they had. I asked him how +he learned to cook, and he gave me the secret +in one lesson. He said, "You just use plenty +butter; that's how women can't cook properly: +they grudge butter." It is five or six years +since he first told me about his wonderful +powers as a cook, and every time he has repeated +his achievements—which has not been seldom—I +have longed for an opportunity to distinguish +myself, possessed as I was with the key to +cooking. Davidson always got quite enthusiastic +on this subject. He would say, "Man, when +it was my turn, the fellows could hardly be +kept on deck after the onions began to brown +and the smell went up; and the doctor used +to stand with a big rolling-pin to keep Jamie +and the rest of them back, and every minute +they would be crying down that it would do +fine." +</p> + +<p> +I don't know anything about yachting, and +any time I have been over two hours at sea I +had no taste for food. I always had more than +I wanted. I remember going to Dublin, and at +breakfast a tureen of ham and eggs was placed +beside me, but by the time I had helped the +company I had to go on deck and admire the +prospect. An idea occurred to me, however, to +get some companions to join me on a holiday +with a caravan. "I would attend to the +cooking," I said; but I never got any one to agree. +I believe now if I had promoted each one to the +office of cook I would have been successful, for +I think every man—who has not tried it—is +sure he is a born cook. +</p> + +<p> +"Everything comes to him who waits"; and +I got an opportunity to try my skill last +month. +</p> + +<p> +It came about in this way: we had taken a +house in the country for August; and as the +date approached, I found that business would +prevent me from getting away for about a +week. "But that need not prevent you and the +girls from going," I said to my wife. "There's +no use of having the house empty." +</p> + +<p> +"But what will you do for food?" she said. +</p> + +<p> +"Oh! I can easily make my breakfast, and I +can dine at the club if necessary." +</p> + +<p> +After some talking, I got them persuaded to +leave me. +</p> + +<p> +"Well," said my wife, "I must tell you where +the things are. The tea is in a japanned box on +the kitchen dresser. You put in a teaspoonful +for yourself and a spoonful to the teapot." I +wondered why the teapot should have equal +shares with me, but said nothing, as Davidson +had not said anything about tea. +</p> + +<p> +"There's cold meat in the pantry, and some +tongue and sausages, and I'll leave word at the +dairy about the cream. Oh! and the coffee is in +a tin on the top of the kitchen fireplace; put in +two tablespoonfuls, and boil a breakfast-cup +of milk. You'll get clean underclothing in the +second drawer of the wardrobe, and shirts in +the drawer above, and the collars in the middle +drawer of the dressing-table." +</p> + +<p> +There were several more injunctions thrown +away on me, for my mind was on the cooking +of a steak, and I fancied I could smell fried +onions. +</p> + +<p> +When I came home the first night I tried to +persuade myself that I rather liked the hollow, +echoing sound of my footsteps in the lobby. The +house had a dismal appearance; the furniture +was rolled up in sheets. However, I had the +consolation of being able to smoke in rooms +hitherto prohibited. I could not hurt the +curtains,—they were down; and I could not +expectorate on the carpet,—it was up; but I +could put my feet on the mantelpiece,—it was +left: so were the marks of my boots. I tried to +read, but the stillness of the house was oppressive, +so I went to the club to get some one to +speak to. +</p> + +<p> +When I returned, the house seemed more deserted +than before. I wasn't afraid to sleep in +the house by myself, but, just for the fun of the +thing, I looked under the beds, but there was no +one there, as of course I knew. +</p> + +<p> +I intended rising an hour earlier than usual to +make breakfast, and was wakened by the bell +ringing, but fell asleep. I think it was the bell +which wakened me again, and I rose and, after +dressing, started to light the fire. It was not till +after considerable rummaging that I found the +firewood, and it was a good while longer before +I could get it to burn. I must have used at least +half a dozen newspapers before the wood took +fire; and as I had not time to wait on the coal +burning, I used several bundles of sticks. The +coffee wasn't a success. I had put in three times +as much water as was necessary, and it was the +colour of beer. I couldn't find the milk,—at +least not then; but I found it when I was hurrying +out, knocking it over with my foot. It had +been laid at the door with the morning paper on +the top of it, and I left a stream meandering +down the steps. +</p> + +<p> +On my way along the street I fancied I was +being looked at more than was necessary, and +found, by a mirror in a shop window, that my +face was peculiarly tattooed with black marks +through using my hands for a handkerchief +while sweating over the fire. +</p> + +<p> +My great success—the steak—was yet to +come off. I would have it for supper, and went +into a butcher's shop for it on the way home. I +had never been in a butcher's before, and did +not know what to ask for. I said, "A piece of +beef, please." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, sir; where off, sir?" +</p> + +<p> +I am not up in the anatomy of the cow, so I +said, "Oh! the place you make steaks of." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, sir; how much shall I give you, sir?" +</p> + +<p> +A waiter would have known, and gone off +shouting "Steak one," but I had to indicate the +size with my hands. I didn't like the way he +handled the meat,—he did not use a fork. +</p> + +<p> +"Can I send it for you, sir?" +</p> + +<p> +"Oh no," I said, "I'll take it with me." +</p> + +<p> +He wrapped it in a piece of old newspaper, +and I nearly let it drop when I got it in my hand, +it was so damp and flabby, like carrying a frog +by the middle. There was no use trying to +persuade myself that people would think it was a +bunch of flowers; it was hanging limp down +each side of my hand, and I had not gone far till +the blood oozed through the paper. I felt like a +cannibal. Of course the fire was to light again; +and as I did not like the kitchen range, I lit the +dining-room fire. +</p> + +<p> +I think Davidson would make a capital +recruiting sergeant, he is so good at showing the +bright side of things: he never alluded to the +difficulty and pain connected with slicing onions. +After getting the outer coat off I had to hold the +onion at arm's length, my eyes were nipping so +badly; then they are so slippery inside that it is +almost impossible to keep a hold while cutting +off a slice. Sometimes the knife went down with +a bang on the table, and the onion would shoot +out of my hand to the floor. +</p> + +<p> +The fire had plenty of time to burn up before +the operation was concluded, and I was now +ready for my great triumph. There was a very +disagreeable feeling in unfolding the steak,—it +felt so dead; but I dug a fork in it and landed +it in the pan. I had no compunction about the +onions; they had made me suffer. +</p> + +<p> +There is a sort of musical sound in the fritter +from a pan; and I waited for the tempting smell, +but it was not what I expected. It brought to +mind the days of my boyhood when I was in a +smithy and a hot shoe was being applied to a +horse's foot. Hang it! the butter. "Where on +earth is the butter?" I searched all the presses +for it, and at last found it on the table beside me. +I quickly put in a large piece, and in a second +the fire blazed up the chimney. The confounded +pan was leaking, and I had not noticed it at first. +</p> + +<p class="capcenter"> +<a id="img-029"></a> +<br> +<img class="imgcenter" src="images/img-029.jpg" alt=""THE CONFOUNDED PAN WAS LEAKING, AND I HAD NOT NOTICED IT" <i>By J. A. Ford</i>"> +<br> +"THE CONFOUNDED PAN WAS LEAKING, AND I HAD NOT NOTICED IT" <br> +<i>By J. A. Ford</i> +</p> + +<p> +The steak was ruined: one side was like charcoal, +and the other quite raw. It was annoying. +If I only had another steak and another pan, +and some one to slice the onions, I could now +do it all right. As it was, I had to wash myself +and hurry out of the house to get away from the +smell. +</p> + +<p> +The next morning I made my final attempt +at cooking. I remembered about the milk, and +took it and the paper in, reading the news while +the milk boiled. It took so long that I forgot +about it, till it suddenly boiled over, and the +grate and the fender were in a fearful mess, and +the fire nearly out, before I could lift it off. +</p> + +<p> +I remembered, now it was too late, that I +was to be careful not to allow the milk to boil, +but the thought of the steak had put everything +else out of my head. I gave it up in despair, and +breakfasted at the club. I think Davidson has +been drawing on my credulity: there is more +than butter in cooking. +</p> + +<p> +That night I thought I would go to another +bedroom, as my bed required making; and it was +not till I had screwed out the gas and jumped in +that I found there were no blankets. I couldn't +find matches, and had to grope my way to my +own room, knocking my toes several times on +the way; and when I did get into my own bed, I +had great difficulty in arranging the blankets to +cover my feet and shoulders simultaneously. +</p> + +<p> +I have often noticed that creaky doors seem +to wait till one gets warm in bed before they +begin, and I have as often made up my mind +that it is best to get up at the first creak and go +to sleep, and as often I have not acted up to my +resolution. I was just cozy when a door started +to serenade me—"cre-a-k, bump." +</p> + +<p> +"Another creak," I thought, "and I'll get +up." I waited, and had the encore. "I'll give it +another chance; it's a pity to get up, as I might +not get the blankets arranged again." I gave +it several more chances, and it took every one. +I seemed to bump against everything in the +house when I got up. Before I could find out +the creaker I stood shivering in the lobby, but +there was not a sound. However, now that I +was up, I determined to find it out. At last it +betrayed itself, and I secured it. I had no idea +now where I was, and got myself badly bruised +before getting to my room; and I locked the +door next morning, and took a room in the club. +</p> + +<p> +When I did go to the country I never enjoyed +myself less. I felt like a culprit whose crime +was soon to be discovered. I would hear more +about it on our return; but I did not expect to +hear so much about it as I did. I had no idea I +had done so much damage. +</p> + +<p> +"You have broken three cups of the marriage +set—a present from mamma. I wouldn't have +had them broken for the world; they can't be +replaced. You have scratched the mantelpiece +with your boots, and it will never look decent +again: and, I declare! if you have not been +cooking on the dining-room fire, and ruined the +grate and fender. And the girl tells me you have +cracked the stewing-pan. I might have known +better than leave a man in the house: there's not +a clean dish in the house, and—oh! this is too +bad; look at the tablecloth—spoiled!" I looked +at it, and it was not attractive, I must +admit—there were rings of soot on it from the +coffee-pot, and a variety of stains. +</p> + +<p> +I brought philosophy to bear on the subject, +and said, "Well, there's no use crying over +spilt milk." +</p> + +<p> +"But it's not milk—it's coffee, and wine, and +soot," replied my wife, "and it will never come +out." But it only shows, as I had often thought, +that women have no philosophy. +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p> +However, I shall never try cooking again, +one reason being that I shall not be allowed. +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap04"></a></p> + +<h3> +M'CRANKYS AT A PARTY +</h3> + +<p> +"Mr. and Mrs. Gibson at home, +Friday 17th," Mrs. M'Cranky read from an +invitation card she received by the morning post. +</p> + +<p> +"Where have they been?" said M'Cranky, +looking up from his Scotsman. +</p> + +<p> +"It's an invitation for us, dear, and we'll have +to go, because we've promised for a long time +to call on them, and the dress I got for Annie's +marriage will do nicely with a little——" +</p> + +<p> +"Humbug! If there's anything worse than +the worry of having a party at home, it's having +to go out to one, getting into cold clothes when +one is just feeling comfortable after dinner, and +being expected to keep up a continual smile for +four or five hours; and then, when we're leaving, +thank the people for a very pleasant evening +when we've just been dying to get home +for a smoke. You just write and say that——" +</p> + +<p> +"No, dear, I can't say that; we must go, for +Mrs. Gibson's expecting us, and I said we were +not engaged." +</p> + +<p> +"How on earth could you say that when +you've just this minute got the invitation?" +</p> + +<p> +"I met Mrs. Gibson the other day, and she +told me she was going to invite us, and hoped +we would be able to come; and I said we would +be very happy, and I knew you were not engaged." +</p> + +<p> +"And if you accepted the invitation, what's +the use of her writing?" +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, that doesn't count, you know; and she +told me they were getting a neat card printed, +and of course she would want me to see it; and +I've to go down the night before to show her +how to make a cream I got the recipe for from +Aggie, and I've to tell her how the Gray's table +was laid out, for she heard it was very much +admired: so it would never do not to go." +</p> + +<p> +"I see; it's all settled before you get the +invitation. Well, mind you will leave at eleven." +</p> + +<p> +"Whenever you like, dear," said Mrs. M'Cranky, +knowing that if he got seated at +whist he would not be in a hurry to leave. +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p> +"Will you take lunch at the club to-day, +dear?" said Mrs. M'Cranky on the morning of +the 17th, "and I'll just take something light at +home." +</p> + +<p> +"What's up now? There's no use turning up +the house, for we'll be going away soon, and +last year when you had the painters in you said +you wouldn't require——" +</p> + +<p> +"I'm not going to touch the house, dear. +This is the night of Gibson's party, and there's +to be a nice supper. I was down last night +helping her, and I've ordered the cab for half-past +seven, for I've to see how the table looks." +</p> + +<p> +Mr. M'Cranky kept up a fusillade of grumbling +while dressing, but Mrs. M'Cranky was +too excited to take any notice; and when the cab +had deposited them at the door Mr. M'Cranky +said to the driver, "Eleven o'clock." "Right, +sir," said Jehu. Mrs. M'Cranky had left word +at the office that they were to be called for at +one o'clock, so she pretended to look inside the +cab to see if she had left anything; and while +M'Cranky was going up the steps she said to +the driver, "You understand," and he replied +with a knowing look, "All right, mum." +</p> + +<p> +As they were about the first to arrive, the +time was occupied by looking over the albums, +with explanations by Mr. Gibson as to who the +photographs represented, with the relationship +between the young lady on the present page +and the old gentleman two leaves back, which +seemed to be of great interest to the spectators. +Then there were the curiosities to be shown. +"This," said Mr. Gibson, lifting a fusty-looking +thing from a bracket, "is a spider's nest, sent +by my son Tom from Queensland. He is in a +bank there, and getting on very well. He's +engaged to that young lady I showed you the +photograph of"; and as he threatened to +produce the album again, the gentlemen all said +they remembered—"Nice-looking lady." +</p> + +<p> +"This is a carved box Jim, my eldest son, +sent from India,—beautiful carving. I got a +paper from him the other day with an account +of a concert he had been performing at. I +wonder if I could lay my hands on it! Oh yes, here +it is," said he, producing it from where he had +carefully laid it a few minutes before. "My +family are all musical," he continued. "You'll +hear my girl to-night; she plays the violin, and +is getting on very well, I believe. She is to +perform at a Primrose League meeting to-morrow +night." +</p> + +<p> +As this was said as if to convey an idea of the +esteem in which she was held as a violinist, the +gentlemen said "Oh!" or "Indeed!" There +were occasional painful pauses in the conversation, +for, though the gentlemen had been introduced, +no one could have told another's name; +and each seemed to wait for the others to begin, +till one ventured to start abusing the weather, +and our unfortunate climate was subjected to a +prolonged and severe criticism. +</p> + +<p> +"Any of you gentlemen care for a hand at +whist?" the host asked. And when some said +they "didn't mind," and others that they would +be "very pleased," he said, "I think we could +manage two sets." Of course the ladies had to +be asked, and they expressed their willingness, +but said they could not play very well. +</p> + +<p> +The two tables were placed very close to +each other, as there was not much room. The +gentlemen apparently looked on the game as a +very serious affair, and the ladies regarded it +lightly and as a secondary matter. The cards +were just dealt, and play about to begin, when +Mrs. Gibson came across the room and whispered +something to her husband, who said, +"'M? Oh yes, we're to have a violin duet from +Mr. Morrison and Miss Gibson." +</p> + +<p> +Conversation was immediately suspended, +and about ten minutes spent in preparation: the +violin cases were brought in, and the instruments +carefully unpacked; then patent folding +stands were produced and arranged; a few +minutes more were spent looking over the music +and selecting a piece; the young lady who was +to play the accompaniment was handed her +share, which did not count in the performance, +although it turned out that she had most to do. +She had evidently been rehearsing with them, +for she at once sounded "A," and the violinists +commenced tuning, by putting their instruments +out of tune and then making them right. +The pianiste had about a page to play before +the violins came in, but the young lady and +gentleman managed to fill in the time by stuffing +handkerchiefs into their necks, and seeing +that the varnish on the back of the violins was +all right. It was evidently a handicap, for +Mr. Morrison gave Miss Gibson a start of three +bars; but any one could see that he had her in +hand, for he passed her about the sixth +hurdle—so to speak—and waited on. And after a +scramble home, Miss Gibson was allowed to +win by a neck. +</p> + +<p> +Whist was at once started, but the long silence +was too much for the ladies. "How d'ye +do?" said one, recognising a friend at the next +table; "I did not notice you come in." +</p> + +<p> +"No, we were rather late. My husband is +very busy just now, and we could not get away +any sooner; and I——" +</p> + +<p> +"It's you to play," said Mr. M'Cranky, who +was annoyed at having to play with ladies, and +impatient to begin, as he had a good hand. He +had managed to say quietly to his opponent +during the duet, "Do you care to have a modest +sixpence on?" and the gentleman had agreed; +and when he added "Shilling rub?" he had got +a nod of assent. So he was now eager for the +fray. +</p> + +<p> +"We're waiting on you, mum," he said to his +partner. +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, I beg pardon; are diamonds trump?" +</p> + +<p> +"No, clubs are trump, and diamonds are led." +</p> + +<p> +"Oh yes, I haven't got my hand arranged. +That was a very nice duet. Miss Gibson plays +remarkably well, and only been about a year +at it, I believe. I was advising Mrs. Gibson to +send her to Germany. I believe the——" +</p> + +<p> +"Your smallest diamond, please." +</p> + +<p> +"I beg pardon; trump is led!" +</p> + +<p> +"No, clubs are trump. Just put down a small +diamond," said M'Cranky, who held the ace +and king. +</p> + +<p> +The lady seemed to feel she had done her +duty when she followed the instructions given, +and, without waiting to see the result, turned +to her friend at the next table and said, "Did +you see Miss Young at church on Sunday? I +thought she wasn't looking very well." +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, she's always pale, you know," her friend +replied. "I don't think there's anything wrong +with her." +</p> + +<p> +"Ah, I don't think she is very strong. Her +mother should——" +</p> + +<p> +"We're waiting on you, mum," said M'Cranky, +with ill-concealed displeasure. "I took that +trick with the king, and led a small trump," and +he put an emphasis on "king," which was +entirely lost on his partner. +</p> + +<p> +"What should I play, then? I've a nice one +here, but I'm afraid it will be taken." +</p> + +<p> +"Never mind, third in hand; play your best." +</p> + +<p> +"But it's not the best; there are two better +than it." +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, you mustn't tell your hand," the opposing +gentlemen said. "Whist, you know." +</p> + +<p> +"I'm sure I never mentioned a card." +</p> + +<p> +The play had not proceeded far in this fashion +when Miss Gibson was announced to give a +reading, and the game had to be stopped while +that lady gave a thrilling recitation of the +"Life-boat," making great use of her eyes and +eyebrows, after the style of Irving. When it was +finished there was some doubt as to who was to +lead, one saying, "It's me to lead; don't you +remember I took your knave, and——" +</p> + +<p> +"No, no; that was the trick before. I trumped +the last trick." +</p> + +<p> +The game finished by M'Cranky having +three tricks, and informing his partner that +they would have been game if she had not +trumped his knave of clubs, which was "the +best in the house." But she was quite delighted +with the result. +</p> + +<p> +After the first game the ladies seemed to +think they had had enough of it, and resigned +their positions in favour of the gentlemen, whose +play, conducted on more scientific principles, +was interspersed with violin solos or recitations +by Miss Gibson, the latter being of a sufficiently +tragic nature to give scope to her facial and +vocal expression. One was about a level-crossing,—a +fruitful subject for the reciter. There are +several recitations on this topic, and they have +all the same tragic end: a little girl gathering +primroses, which grow so plentifully between +the rails, is about to be run over by the down +express, when Joe or Jim—both drunkards—rushes +down the bank and saves her life at the +expense of his own; and there is as much sameness +in the treatment as in the subject, the first +line being in this style: "Not heerd o' Jim? +Well, I'll tell ye, lads." +</p> + +<p> +Mr. M'Cranky left the card table rather +reluctantly shortly after one o'clock; and though +he had a long smoke when he got home, he was +first in bed, leaving Mrs. M'Cranky looking at +herself in the wardrobe mirror as if preparing +to go out. +</p> + +<p> +"I wonder when it's coming off," she said, +giving expression to her thoughts. +</p> + +<p> +"That's just what I'm thinking," said M'Cranky. +</p> + +<p> +"How strange, dear, we should think of the +same thing; but I don't know how he'll be able +to keep a wife." +</p> + +<p> +"What are you talking about?" +</p> + +<p> +"Mr. Morrison and Miss Gibson. Wasn't it +their marriage you were thinking of?" +</p> + +<p> +"No; it was your dress. Are they to be married?" +</p> + +<p> +"Of course, that was what the party was for." +</p> + +<p> +"Who told you?" +</p> + +<p> +"Nobody; but any one with half an eye could +see it. You men never can see anything." +</p> + +<p> +"That was a fearful duffer I had for a partner +at whist—lost nearly every game. Who is he?" +</p> + +<p> +"He's in a bank in St. Andrew Square—a +good position—and lives in a fine house at +Murray field." +</p> + +<p> +"How do you know?" +</p> + +<p> +"Because his wife said it was a long way for +her husband to go in the morning from +Murrayfield to St. Andrew Square." +</p> + +<p> +"I see, and you fill in the details." +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, you men don't understand anything." +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap05"></a></p> + +<h3> + BURNS'S ANNIVERSARY & +<br> +THE MILDNESS of the SEASON +</h3> + +<p> +Within the last few weeks, +letters have been sent to the papers giving +various proofs of the mildness of the season, +some containing flowers which seem to have +no right to be blooming at this time, and others +alluding to the appearance of lambs as if they +were sunflowers. I can, however, give an +experience which, taken in conjunction with the +influenza epidemic, is a better proof of mildness +in the weather than all the parcels of premature +flowers. +</p> + +<p> +My friend Mr. Stewart, an Ayrshire farmer, +has for some years been pressing me to pay him +a visit, and I lately accepted his invitation to +have a week with the hounds. The week is +extending, but I am not allowed to leave, Stewart +having always some excuse for delaying my +departure. "Ye canna gang on Monday," he said; +"that's the nicht o' the curlin' denner, an' I've +got the tickets"; and so he lured me from day +to day like a will-o'-the-wisp. At last, when +the week had expanded to a fortnight, I +determined to be firm and go. I had a nice little +speech arranged to thank my host for his great +kindness to me; and at night, when we were +having our smoke and a glass of toddy, I cleared +my throat with that peculiar cough which is the +general precursor of a speech. But the cough +seemed to put him on the alert, for I had only +got the length, "Well, Mr. Stewart, I've +enjoyed my visit very——," when he interrupted +me by saying, "Noo, nane o' that nonsense. +Man, I wunner to hear ye; the hounds'll be here +on Wednesday, an' I've got tickets for the Burns +nicht on Friday, an'——." Then he seemed +to think that was far enough to make me look +forward for the present, so he finished by +saying "Ta!" which might mean anything. +</p> + +<p> +My speech and fortitude vanished. I was as +clay in the hands of the potter. "Friday is not +the anniversary of Burns's birthday," I said; +"it's Saturday." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes; but then, ye see, Saturday's an +awkward nicht, an' Friday suits better." +</p> + +<p> +Subsequent events showed me that the shortness +of Saturday night was its awkward point; +and I may here say that the Ayrshire men can, +and do, stand a large quantity of whisky. And +in this respect, feeling myself like an amateur +among professionals, I determined to be careful +on Friday night, and take nothing before going; +and when I make up my mind to anything, I am +very determined. +</p> + +<p> +I was rather astonished when, about two +o'clock on Friday, Stewart said, "We'll better +be off, then." +</p> + +<p> +"Why are you going so soon?" I inquired; +"the meeting will not be till night." +</p> + +<p> +"Ay, but we're to meet some o' the chaps at +Maclean's to hae a bit denner at fower, so we'll +just tak' a bit tastin' an' set off." +</p> + +<p> +"How far is it to town?" I asked. +</p> + +<p> +"Better than three miles," he replied; and, +looking back on our return, my conviction is +that it is considerably worse than three miles. I +remembered my determination to take nothing +before going; but Stewart had the "tastin'" +poured out, so I took it, thinking I would walk +it off. We met about a dozen gentlemen at +Maclean's, and had a splendid dinner, and I had +to revoke my decision in favour of the wines set +before us. +</p> + +<p> +"When do we meet?" I asked of the gentleman +next me. +</p> + +<p> +"At eight," he replied. +</p> + +<p> +"And how can we be expected to dine again +at eight?" +</p> + +<p> +He laughed, evidently at my simplicity. +</p> + +<p> +"We havena time for denner on a Burns +night," he said. "The haggis is just put round +for the look o' the thing." +</p> + +<p> +I now understood more fully the awkwardness +of a Saturday night. Looking back on +Friday night, I find my memory a little more +vague than usual: for instance, I should have +mentioned that we made two calls on the way +to Maclean's. As we approached the town, +Stewart said, "This is Young's hoose; he's +gaun; we'll just look in for him." +</p> + +<p> +"I was just on the look-out for ye," said that +gentleman. +</p> + +<p class="capcenter"> +<a id="img-055"></a> +<br> +<img class="imgcenter" src="images/img-055.jpg" alt="THE BRIG O' DOON <i>By J. Marjoribanks Hay</i>"> +<br> +THE BRIG O' DOON <br> +<i>By J. Marjoribanks Hay</i> +</p> + +<p> +"Nothing for me, thank you," I said, seeing +him lay down three glasses, and remembering +my determination. Mr. Young evidently did +not hear me; and when I saw him filling the +third glass, I thought I would just taste, as the +people here are very touchy on the point of +hospitality. So I said, "That'll do for me, thank +you; thanks, thanks, thanks." By this time my +glass was the same as the rest. So I had to +console myself by thinking I would be none the +worse of it after the journey. +</p> + +<p> +"We're to look in for Calder on the road," +said Mr. Young. +</p> + +<p> +Calder was in his office, and after a few +words he raised his eyebrows with a look of +interrogation, and pointed with his head in a +direction evidently understood by his +companions, for Stewart, in reply to the unasked +question, said, "Oh, I don't know if it's worth +while." +</p> + +<p> +It was evidently thought worth while, however, +for we proceeded to a small room in the +back of the premises, and Mr. Calder said, +"Weel, what is't to be, then?"—a stupid question +I have noticed almost invariably asked, as +the answer is always the same: "Oh, just the +auld thing; it's the safest." +</p> + +<p> +"Help yersels, then," said Calder, "the time +I'm putting on my coat." Stewart assisted, +asking us to "say when," and, perhaps through +force of habit, he addressed himself while taking +his own allowance, as if some one were giving +him more than he wanted and he was +remonstrating. "Hoot-toot-toot!" he said, but he did +not pour any back. +</p> + +<p> +There was a very heavy toast-list to get +through at the meeting, but I don't remember +much that was said. One thing I noticed, +however, was that every speaker gained frequent +applause by finishing his sentence with "Robbie +Burns," or "Immortal Bard," or a quotation. +Another thing I observed was that the speakers +had their speeches in print, having got proofs +from the local weekly paper, and these were read +as a schoolboy would an essay. Some had their +speeches cut up into parts the size of the toast-list, +and might be supposed to be only looking at +it while reading their speeches; but one +gentleman made no attempt at deceit,—he simply +rose with the long strip like an old ballad, and +started: "Mr. Chairman, Croupier, and Gentlemen, +in the too brief life of our immortal +bard——Waiter, take the top off that lamp. I can't +see. Thank you; that's better. In the too brief +life," &c. Although I can't remember much that +was said, I must have paid great attention at +the time, as I entirely forgot my resolution. +During the evening the secretary read a pile of +telegrams about two inches thick, and mostly +in rhyme,—and good rhyme too, and all the +same rhyme, the rhythm being something like +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + "Ta rumpy tumpy tump returns,<br> + Ta rumpy tumpy Robbie Burns."<br> +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +There was one exception, which was greeted +with great applause in acknowledgment of the +new vein the writer had struck. It was "Ta +rumpy tumpy tumpy turns" in the first line,—the +second, of course, being the same as the +others. +</p> + +<p> +The meeting broke up about one in the +morning, and as I was putting on my topcoat I +observed some waiters busy arranging tumblers, +&c., in the next room, and wondered what meeting +there could be at that hour. It was +ourselves! A new chairman and croupier were +elected, and we began again. I don't know +when this meeting broke up, for my watch had +stopped. It was a dark night, or morning rather, +when Stewart and I set out for home; and I +should think we would be about half-way when +I grew very eloquent in praise of Burns, and I +had just finished what I thought a grand +quotation, and was waiting for Stewart's approbation, +when I discovered I had lost him. This caused +me the greatest concern, for I thought he had +taken what some people would call "just plenty," +and others "too much." So I immediately sat +down to look for him. I felt a little overcome; +and though the grass was damp and there was +a cold wind whistling through the hedge, I must +have waited a considerable time without finding +Stewart. So I determined to go without him. +I had gone about a mile, I should imagine, and +was thinking I must be near home, when I heard +in the distance a glee-party singing "We are na +fou." As we approached I heard the rumble of +a trap, which turned out to contain some of the +party who had been detained by a second +adjournment. They recognised me in passing by +the light of their lamps, and pulled up, asking +where I was going. I said, "To Brewlands," +the name of Stewart's place. I think they +laughed, and told me I was going the wrong +way, and that if I had gone a little farther I +would soon have been at the hotel. I did not +want them to know I was not aware of where +I was going, and explained I was looking for +"Brewlands," the name Stewart usually gets, as +farmers are generally called by the name of +their farm. +</p> + +<p> +"Jump in," they said, "there's nae fear o' +him; he can aye find his way hame. We'll tak' +ye up an' see if he has onything in the bottle." +</p> + +<p> +They were right. When we arrived at the +farm we saw a light in the dining-room, and +Stewart, evidently hearing the sound of the +wheels on the gravel, came out, and when he +found I was one of the company he said, "Whaur +hev ye been? Man, I was jist comin' oot to look +for ye. I didna miss ye till I was near hame, an' +I thocht I wad jist gang in for a lantern." +</p> + +<p> +He had evidently not had time to get the +lantern, but I noticed he had found time to take +a dram, as the bottle was on the table, and a +tumbler with what appeared to be whisky and +water in it. +</p> + +<p> +Stewart's version of the affair was quite +different from mine. He explained to the party +that he was reciting some o' Robbie's fine bits +to me when he became aware that he wasn't, +for I was not there. "An' noo I think on't," he +said, "I fancy I dae mind o' a sound like you +sittin' doon suddenly on the roadside." +</p> + +<p> +Feeling rather cold I thought I would be the +better of a little spirits, and being overcome I +fell asleep in the arm-chair, while Stewart and +his companions began another adjournment. +I must have been completely worn-out with +fatigue, for I don't remember getting to bed. +</p> + +<p> +Breakfast was considerably later than usual +next morning, and Mrs. Stewart asked when +we got home. I did not know what to say, but +Stewart did. He said, "It would be efter twelve, +wouldn't it?" as if we were not sure. I said in +the most doubtful tone I could raise, "I daresay +it would." +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p> +I think there must be some truth in the proverb +that there is a special providence for children +and a certain class of men, for Stewart was +quite fresh in spite of his exposure the previous +night; and if not to this cause, to the mildness +of the season must be ascribed his immunity +from influenza. +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap06"></a></p> + +<h3> +JOHNNIE GIBB'S FUNERAL +</h3> + +<p> +"Are ye in, Mrs. Broon?" +</p> + +<p> +"Ay, come awa' in, Mrs. Mitchell." +</p> + +<p> +"Eh no, I mannie come in," says Mrs. Mitchell, +coming in all the time, "for I've jist left my +tatties on the fire, an' whaur there's bairns, ye +ken, yin's aye feared." +</p> + +<p> +"Ay, that's true. I'm jist washin' some +peenies, for I declare when ye hev a family ye need +never sit doon." +</p> + +<p class="capcenter"> +<a id="img-067"></a> +<br> +<img class="imgcenter" src="images/img-067.jpg" alt=""I'M JUST WASHIN' SOME PEENIES" <i>By R. M'Gregor, R.S.A.</i>"> +<br> +"I'M JUST WASHIN' SOME PEENIES" <br> +<i>By R. M'Gregor, R.S.A.</i> +</p> + +<p> +"Ay, that's true. I dinna ken hoo some +women aye manage to be at their doors or in +their neebors' hooses, for I can tell ye I never +devauld fae workin' fae mornin' to nicht; but I +was jist thro win' oot some dirty water the noo, +an' I see they're getherin' for Johnnie Gibb's +funeral, puir man." +</p> + +<p> +"Ay! it's an awfu' thing that sudden death." +</p> + +<p> +"Eh, haud yer tongue, it is that; it's enough +to kill a horse." +</p> + +<p> +"Ay, bit there's nae use tryin' to gang against +Providence." +</p> + +<p> +"Eh no, especially wi' some o' they +new-fashioned troubles." +</p> + +<p> +"Ay! but it'll mak' an awfu' difference in that +hoose, for Mrs. Gibb's a wumman o' this kind,—an' +mind I'm no sayin' onything against the +wumman aither, for she's a guid enough wumman +maybe, but yin canna keep their een shut +a'thegither an' no see that Johnnie wusna +attended to as he micht a' been." +</p> + +<p> +"Ay, that's true; as I often say to my man, +'Hoo wud ye like to hae yer ain tea to mak' +efter comin' in fae a hard day's wark?' I'm +share my man wudna dae't, an' I wudna ask +um; but it disna look weel to see a man plouterin' +aboot an' dain' women's wark; an' we've +heard o' sic things,—atween you an' me, an' it's +no gaun ony farrer,—we've heard o' sic things +as gettin' a gill fae the grocer, an' tellin' um to +mark it doon, 'Bread, sixpence.'" +</p> + +<p> +"Ay, Johnnie was a simple man, an' we +shouldna say onything against the corp ahint +his back that we couldna say to his face; an' if he +could dae ye a guid turn, ye had jist to ask it. +I'm share it's no a fortnicht sin' my man was +plantin' tatties in the back gairden, an' Johnnie +lookit ower the hedge, an' he never said onything +but jist 'Try they,' an' he put six Dalmahoy +earlies in my man's hand. Ay! it's a lesson +to us a'; as I aye say, If ye havena a guid word +to say o' onybody, 'od sake haud yer tongue,—there +they're comin'! Wha's that young man in +the front?—that's no their auldest son Jamie, +is't? It's jist him; ay, my Alec telt me he met +um comin' ower fae the station this mornin' +tryin' to talk English, an' him naething but in a +draper's shop. Says he, 'I could hardly get away +this morning, we're so thrang in our estaiblishment.' Ay, +there's nae fear o' him talkin' shop; +an' see what a graund hat he's got, an nae weepers +on't, an' him the corp's son; an' black kid +gloves tae, instead o' white cotton yins; an' see +what a grand coffin they've got tae,—they mun +get it oot o' Edinburgh, as if Wull Binnie couldna +mak' them a guid enough yin. I can tell ye, +the yin he made to me when my grandfaither +deid was as guid a coffin as a man need pit on +his back, a' covered ower wi' big brass-heided +nails like a jail door; an' she's gaun to gie them +a graund denner tae when they come back, +mair like a mairrage than a funeral. She was +ower to me for the len' o' hauf-a-dizzen knives +an' forks an' as mony spoons, an' a' among the +neebors tae for a cruet-stand; dash't, d'ye ken, +when she cam' to me I didna ken what she +meant, so I says, 'Eh I'm rale sorry, but I doot +mines is ower sair torn.' +</p> + +<p> +"'A cruet-stand,' says she, 'for haudin' +mustard an' catshup, ye ken." +</p> + +<p> +"'Oh! a cruet-stand,' says I, pretendin' I +hadna heard her; 'eh no, I never had onything +that way bit a pepper-an'-saut dish.'—Hev +ye seen her new murnin' goon an' weedy's kep?" +</p> + +<p> +"That wad be the bundle Jamie brocht oot +ablow his oxter; I was wonderin' what it was. +Weel, I'm share she micht a' gien Maggie +Simpson the job to mak' it; though maybe +Maggie's better athoot it, an' couldna wait lang +enough for her siller. I declare there she's +comin' ower to show aff her graund new frock.—Come +awa' in, Mrs. Gibb; we wus jist sayin' +hoo sorry oo wus for ye, an' what a consolation +it wud be to ye to see sic a wiselike turn-oot at +the funeral." +</p> + +<p> +"Ay! it's a sad day for me. Hoo d'ye like my +frock? Jamie brocht it oot; rale mindfu' o' um, +wasn't it?" +</p> + +<p> +"Eh ay, it jist looks as if it had been made +for ye; it's easy seen it's no Maggie Simpson's +dain'. I'm share it's just spoilin' guid cloth to +gie her a goon to mak'." +</p> + +<p> +"I've jist come in to see if ye wad len' me +yer tureen for the soup." +</p> + +<p> +"Oh ay; John keeps his nails an' things in't, +but I'll gie't a bit dicht oot for ye." +</p> + +<p> +So away went Mrs. Gibb, saying to herself, +"Haverin' bodies! nae doot they've been +speakin' aboot me." +</p> + +<p> +And Mrs. Mitchell said, "I mun awa' tae for +I've jist left my tatties on the fire; that's the +warst o' gaun to Mrs. Broon's hoose,—there's +nae gettin' oot o't." +</p> + +<p> +And Mrs. Brown said to herself, "Thank +guidness, that's Mrs. Mitchell awa' at last; there +that graith cauld. I thocht I'd never see her +back,—bletherin' besom." +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap07"></a></p> + +<h3> +SPRING CLEANING +</h3> + +<p class="poem"> + "Now spring returns, but not to me return<br> + The vernal joys."<br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p> +I wonder if the poet's wife +had an attack of cleaning fever when he +composed the above sentiment; if so, I can feel with +him, as no doubt most householders can at present. +I thought our house was in first-rate order, +but my wife said I knew perfectly well it was in +a filthy state, and that most of the rooms +required papering. It seems she had called on a +neighbour, and found the house handed over to +the painters. So, not to be outdone in this +respect, she went straight to the landlord and +wrestled with him, as did Jacob of old, the +blessing going the length of papering the +drawing-room and lobby. I knew nothing of this till +yesterday morning, when I heard whistling, +which I rightly judged to be too good to emanate +from our domestic. It was the painters; they +make themselves at home wherever they go. +On emerging into the lobby, I found it heaped +up with furniture, and to get to the bathroom I +had to traverse three sides of a square. I enjoy +my morning ablution, especially at this season, +and was consequently annoyed to find the bath +heaped up with pictures, &c.; in fact, every part +of the house seemed crowded with furniture. +</p> + +<p> +After dressing, I thought I would look into +the drawing-room to see what was being done, +but on approaching the door I heard "three," +"pass three," and looking through the keyhole +I saw the painters sitting astride a plank +playing "nap." I turned the handle, but found the +door was barricaded by a pair of steps being +placed against it, another pair, connected with +a plank, being at the far side of the room. I +shouted through the door that it was "all right," +and went away to get breakfast, but found the +dining-room empty, with the exception of the +girl, who said, "If ye please, yer to take yer +breakfast in yer ain room." She had a strange +get-up. Her head was in the Arabian style, +wound up in a red handkerchief, and her apron +was made out of a sack with an announcement +on it about somebody's dog biscuits. Breakfast +was set on a little gipsy table, and I had hardly +got started when I noticed the <i>Scotsman</i>; and, +wishing to see what number had visited the +Exhibition and how the voting had gone in the +Assembly, I half rose to reach for the paper, +when my knee caught the table and landed the +contents on the floor. I tried to explain how +easily a three-legged table was upset, but my +wife said she had told me often not to read at +breakfast. She could never get a word out of +me when I got a paper in my hand. +</p> + +<p> +I had to get out of the house sideways, by a +step known in military tactics as "right close," +wedging myself past piles of chairs dressed in +white pinafores trimmed with red braid. I did +not think the house could have held so much +furniture; it looked like an auctioneer's store-room. +</p> + +<p> +On returning to dinner I was told there was +not much, as there had been little time to cook. +The gipsy table was again in requisition; but +as it was too small to hold the various items, a +couple of chairs were used as sideboards. When +we were at dessert the girl entered and said, +"Gif ye please, the wumman says she aye gets +a little speerits." +</p> + +<p> +"What woman says that?" I asked. +</p> + +<p> +"It's the widow, dear, who is washing the +floors," my wife explained. +</p> + +<p> +It seems strange that it is always widows +who do that sort of work, and strange that they +and ministers always call a glass of whisky "a +little spirits." I suppose it does not sound so +bad, though it sounds ungrammatical. One +would think it should be "a little spirit," though +perhaps that is ambiguous; but those who call +soup or porridge "them" might as well say "a +few spirits," though perhaps that expression is +misleading too, and might turn the thoughts to +those who entered the herd of swine. +</p> + +<p> +After dinner I was shown a book of patterns +for wall-paper. "This is what I was thinking +of for the drawing-room," said my wife, showing +me one with an elaborate design; "or this," +a much quieter pattern. I said I preferred the +quiet one, but was told the other was more +expensive, and the landlord was to pay for it, +which seemed unanswerable logic from a woman's +point of view. As we could not come to +an agreement about it, we voted; but as the +votes were equal—one on each side—my wife +threw in her casting vote in favour of the +expensive pattern. +</p> + +<p> +I can't help feeling that I am worse than useless +in the house at present. I am positively in +the way,—something to be tolerated, which is +rather humiliating for one who should be the +head of the house; and, what makes matters +worse, my wife and the girl are extra friendly, +and talk over their plans, completely ignoring +me, unless it is to ask me to balance myself on +the chimney-piece and hand down a large picture. +What a fine time of it landlords would +have if men were masters of their own houses! +I used to do all that was required for the house +at my own expense when I was a bachelor, +though I don't remember doing anything. +</p> + +<p> +There is a fearful smell in the house just now, +and my wife is astonished that I do not like it. +It smells to me like the stuff I use for rheumatism; +it is furniture polish, and women seem to +revel in it. Sometimes the aroma is changed to +ammonia or spirit of salt; but the blends are all +sickening to me, and it permeates the house to +such an extent as to make everything one eats +seem flavoured with it. I am quite lame with +bruising my legs on fenders, &c., which stick +out in all unexpected places; and as I couldn't +get a comfortable seat in the house I sauntered +along to the club, where I met Watson, and was +narrating my troubles to him, when he said, +"Oh, man, they're all the same just +now,"—meaning women. "I'll tell you what," he +continued confidentially; "what do you say to a +few days fishing?" I thought it a first-rate idea, +but did not know what my wife would say, as +the last time I went with Watson I stupidly left +the hotel bill in my pocket; but my wife didn't, +and told me I should be ashamed, as there was +more for beer and whisky than for our food, and +she could have got a bonnet or something with +half of what I had, what she termed, "thrown +away on drink." I told Watson I would see—with +the mental reservation, my wife—and let +him know in the morning. Watson seemed to +be reading my thoughts, for he said, "They'll +be glad to get rid of you at home." +</p> + +<p class="capcenter"> +<a id="img-080"></a> +<br> +<img class="imgcenter" src="images/img-080.jpg" alt="TWO HAPPY HUSBANDS <i>By R. B. Nisbet, R.S.A.</i>"> +<br> +TWO HAPPY HUSBANDS <br> +<i>By R. B. Nisbet, R.S.A.</i> +</p> + +<p> +I did not think my wife would have cared to +let me go again with Watson, for she thinks he +makes me drink more than I otherwise would, +and I know Watson's wife thinks I lead her +husband astray in the same manner; but to my +surprise there was no objection offered. On the +contrary, I was told that I would be the better +of a rest. I may be wrong, but I felt that it was +said in a tone which implied, "Thank goodness, +we'll get rid of him, and then we won't have to +bother about dinner." At any rate we're both +pleased, and there will be two happy husbands +enjoying fresh air, and two insanely happy +wives revelling in turpentine and bathbrick +to-morrow. +</p> + +<p> +Watson gave me a tip which I must not +forget: he said, "Mind, when you go home, to take +notice of the great improvements, though you +won't see any difference." And another thing +I must mind, is to burn the hotel bill. +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap08"></a></p> + +<h3> +A MARRIAGE +</h3> + +<p> +It is strange, that with all +the facilities for marriage of recent years the +young man of the period is getting more difficult +to tempt. He can get married for half-a-crown, +but he can hardly be induced to get married for +anything. Up till last generation a marriage in +a family meant a dancing and rejoicing till long +past the small hours,—it is now compressed into +a sort of five-o'clock tea; and one can have +sympathy for the old man who said, "I dinna care +for yer new-fangled mairrages. Gie me an auld +Scotch funeral." One of this sort told me on his +return that I had made a great mistake in not +going. "It's the best funeral I've been at this +lang time,—as much as ye could pit yer haun' +tae." The village grocer had died, and I, as a +summer visitor, had been invited. +</p> + +<p> +I do not, as a rule, care for being present at +either ceremony, but had accepted an invitation +to a marriage the other day; and as I am not +famous for punctuality, various friends wrote +reminding me that the hour was 2.30 sharp, so +I determined to surprise them by being in time, +allowing myself half an hour to go from +Haymarket Station to Newington. Happening to +notice a train at the platform, I rushed downstairs +without taking time to get a ticket in case +I should miss it, and thinking it would be quicker +and cheaper than a cab. I sat fully ten minutes +beside two gentlemen, who seemed as impatient +as myself, judging by the number of times they +looked at their watches. "We'll never catch it," +said one. I knew I would catch it if I stayed any +longer, and asked a passing guard when the +train was to start. "As soon as the signal's +down," he said. +</p> + +<p> +I had still about a quarter of an hour to spare, +so I got out and took a car along Princes Street. +The car was full, but that was no concern of the +driver's. He stopped for every lady who hailed +him; and after the conductor had explained to +each one that the car was full, and that he was +not going her way at any rate, and when she +would get a car, and that she would know it was +for Portobello by the name on the notice-board, +we proceeded. By the time we got to Frederick +Street my patience and time were about +exhausted, and I now saw the folly of not walking, +as I had originally intended. +</p> + +<p> +I was despairing of being in time, but got a +hansom, trusting to the ceremony being a little +late, paying the driver on the way in order to +save time, and the moment he drew up I hurried +into the house. +</p> + +<p> +I am rather absent-minded; and when the +girl showed me to the room, I felt the driver had +put me down at the wrong number. I had been +too hurried to notice it, and had evidently come +to a house where a funeral company had met. +The girl had that "don't-make-a-noise" sort +of air about her. She pointed, Quaker-like, to +where I was to deposit my hat, and then opened +the room door quietly. I entered on tip-toe, and +was confirmed in my surmise. The company +were standing round the room looking at the +carpet. I noticed a vacant place, and took it, +placing my hands at my back like the others, +and helping to do the carpet-staring, all the time +wondering what I should do. I should explain +my mistake and retire, but I did not like to +break the silence. My thoughts were broken +by a friend coming over and shaking hands, +and I was glad to recognise him, as I knew he +was to be at the marriage too. "What are we +to do?" I asked, hoping he would see a way +out of the difficulty and the house. "You should +shake hands with the hostess," he said, pointing +at my back. I turned and saw a group of +ladies, and was glad to find I was in the right +house. +</p> + +<p> +The bride was just expected in, hence the +silence. She came in leaning on her father's +arm, looking very pale, and trembling as if she +was being led to execution; but her father did +not seem to care much, and I noticed as he +passed that his tie was creeping up the back of +his head, but had been brought to a halt by his +ears. I sympathised with him, as I often wear +mine there. I envy men who are always tidy +about the neck, and have bought every patent +I have seen, but can't keep my ties in subjection. +The bow of a dress-tie will not remain in +the centre, but if I allow it to nestle under my +ear it will remain there all right. The ladies +tell me I should get a wife, but I shall try some +more patents first. I have been asked by ladies +several times since the marriage what the bride +had on, and they seem annoyed that all I can +remember is that she wore a large white bouquet. +That tie occupied too much of my attention, +with the maker's name on a label just over +the bump of philo-progenitiveness. +</p> + +<p> +The bridesmaids followed in the procession, +and then the minister, with papers in his hand, +like the warrant for execution. After the principal +parties had got into position, the minister +began in deep tones, "We are met on this solemn +occasion" (all the company seemed to feel it, +for they still looked at the carpet as if they had +dropped a pin and could not be happy till they +found it), and concluded by asking if any of the +company objected to the marriage. There being +no objections, he then asked the bride and +bridegroom if they were willing to take each other as +they stood, as if he didn't know that was why +he was there. During the ceremony the bride +was sobbing, and perhap she thought she wanted +to back out of it. I don't understand what she +was crying about, as I happen to know she had +been looking forward to the marriage for two +years. The couple, having assented to the +marriage, were told to join hands; and here a +slight hitch occurred which I have noticed +before at marriages. The bride and bridegroom +had on gloves, and both seemed too nervous to +be able to take them off themselves, and had to +get it done for them. +</p> + +<p> +I thought it stupid of them wearing gloves +indoors, and said so to the person next me; but +he said, "They must wear gloves, because the +groomsman and bridesmaid have to take them +off." "But why?" I asked. "Just because it's +always done," he replied in a tone which seemed +conclusive. +</p> + +<p> +I now remembered that the gentleman who +shook hands with me on entering had on gloves, +and I had asked him if he had a sore hand; and +I now observed that all the guests wore gloves, +and seemed uncomfortable in them, as if they +did not fit about the joints, and that they +appeared to be greatly relieved when the cake and +wine were passed round and they could take +them off. Everyone seemed to think they could +now change their funereal face for a more +natural one, and the bride was passed round to be +kissed. She was quite bright now, though there +were still two little diamond tears trembling on +her eyelids. +</p> + +<p> +The minister was asked to take a refreshment, +but said "No; the bread I will take, but +the wine I will not touch." I thought he might +have had sense enough to know the difference +between bride's cake and bread, and wondered +if he refused the wine thinking it might be of +the kind supplied at sacraments. As soon as +the minister left, the company indulged in a +general clatter. It must be nice to be a minister, +and know you are awing the company with +your presence. And yet I don't know: I believe +I would as soon remain as I am, and receive the +friendly slap on the shoulder, and hear the +informal words, "Hullo! old man, what a' ye +gonny have?" +</p> + +<p> +The bridegroom replied briefly to his toast, +as the brougham was waiting to take his bride +and him to the station, and of course he +managed to say "My wife and myself," as if it were +an old affair; and the conclusion of the speech +seemed to be the signal for the production of +rice, which was poured liberally about them,—a +barbarous joke, not possessing even the +quality of originality. +</p> + +<p> +One can imagine the couple in a railway carriage +trying to look as if nothing had happened, +and their discomfort on observing side looks, +smiles, and whisperings from those on the +opposite seat, who have noticed some rice which +has trickled down his trousers to the floor. +With guards and porters, I believe, subterfuge is +useless: the new trunks, &c., tell too plainly, +and they have to be liberally tipped. +</p> + +<p> +The floor of the dining-room was covered +with rice, and an idea occurred to me which +might be taken up profitably. We see forms, +&c., advertised for balls: why should not +poulterers announce, "Hens supplied for +marriages!" They would clean the carpet in a few +minutes. +</p> + +<p> +Human nature is a strange thing. A hearse, +or a brougham with a slipper tied behind, will +collect all the women in the neighbourhood, +except the better-bred ones, who are peeping out +from behind the curtains. A man takes no +interest in either, but there will be a crowd from +morning till night when a gas pipe or telegraph +wire is being laid. +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p> +Well, each to his taste: Dress for the ladies, +a drain for the men, the bride for the +bridegroom, and may they be happy! +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap09"></a></p> + +<h3> +AFTER-DINNER SPEECHES WITH HINTS +</h3> + +<p> +No one of a philanthropic +nature can think but with pity and sympathy of +the mental sufferings of those who have toasts +to propose or reply to. True, there are some +who could not go home happy from a meeting +unless they had aired their eloquence; but they +are a small minority. Ministers are usually +swift in getting on their feet, and slow to sit +down; and though they have "the gift o' the +gab," to some, if not all, it is an infliction—not +less probably than to their brethren in the +laity—to have to speak, as they know that something +better will be expected of them. Talking +with a country minister recently, he said: +</p> + +<p> +"I was once at a Burns Dinner in Edinburgh, +and when we were at the soup I got a note +handed from the chair, saying I had been put +down for a toast in place of some one who was +absent. Well, sir, I laid down my spoon and +never touched my dinner." (This was said in a +tone of sad reflection.) "But," he added, +brightening up, "I picked on two lines of quotation +the chairman had left out, and I gave them +twenty minutes of it,"—the cheery expression +of his face showing that the lengthened speech +was not given as revenge for the loss of a dinner, +but with pride in his "gift." +</p> + +<p> +There are "Practical Letter Writers" and +books on Etiquette, but no one seems to be +bold enough to publish a book of Speeches +suitable for the many exigencies of those who "go +out." The "Practical" or "Complete" Letter +Writer usually was filled with such subjects as +"To a Duchess on refusing an Invitation," or +"From the Same to the Same," and has of course +long since retired to a well-merited oblivion; +but a "Practical" Speech Maker would be sure +to go into many editions, and relieve many a +sufferer from one of the chief miseries of +civilisation. In the meantime, however, as we are +now into "the season," a few hints may be +found useful. +</p> + +<p> +Be careful, then, not to pause after saying +"Mr. Chairman," as, when it is followed by +"and gentlemen," it might seem an invidious +and undesirable distinction. +</p> + +<p> +Begin by saying, "The toast which has been +entrusted to me" or "put into my hands"—both +expressions being classic—"is perhaps the +most important on the list." This will command +attention, especially from those who have to +speak after you, as they naturally look on theirs +as the most important; and though they may +afterwards claim the distinction, you will have +gained your object. +</p> + +<p> +Should your name be on the toast-list, say +you "could have wished the toast had been put +into better hands," and pause to allow the +company to say "No, no; not at all"; but should you +be informed during the evening of the toast +expected of you, say "I had no idea when I came +into the room that I should be called upon to," +&c. This is also classic, and affords an ample +opportunity of showing your powers as an +extempore speaker. Borrow a piece of paper and +a pencil from your neighbour, and during dinner +jot down a few ideas on the subject; and when +you have said, "The toast which I have to +propose," pause, then say, "is—ah—" then lift the +card as if you had given the subject no thought, +and could speak on any topic at a moment's +notice, whereas in reality the menu is to hide +your notes. +</p> + +<p> +It would require a clever statistician to give +an approximate idea of the number of times +speakers will begin a sentence without seeing +their way to the end, trying to conclude +with, "And thanking you all, gentlemen, for +the kind way my health has been proposed +and received,—" only to find they are in a +corner, with no way out except by saying, +"Shall sit down," which is not a graceful finish. +Some, no doubt, wriggle out by saying, "Can +only thank you again,"—a tautological weakness. +</p> + +<p> +In returning thanks, the speaker, after gaining +a character for modesty by alluding to the +"too flattering terms in which my health has +been proposed," can trade on it by praising +himself still further. No doubt, the conclusion +of a speech is the difficult part, but it can be got +rid of by thinking of a subject or person omitted, +and saying, "I beg to propose a toast which +should have been given earlier in the evening," +and then handing the difficulty on to other +shoulders. +</p> + +<p> +If a speaker before you has made a joke +which has taken well, repeat it, and get up a +second laugh in your own favour, and the +originator is flattered at being quoted, while you +share the honours with him. +</p> + +<p> +Should you be in the position of finding that +your ideas have flown, or that they have not +arrived, fix on the one who has made the best +speech, and say he has anticipated you in +everything you were about to observe. This will +arouse sympathy for you under the trying +circumstances, reflect credit on you as a speaker, +and exonerate you from further remarks. +</p> + +<p> +As your toast will probably be pretty well +down the list, the company will not be difficult +to please, or critical, so you need not let your +nominative trouble you. I have often felt the +deepest sympathy for the poor reporters who +have to take home the tangled mass of some +great man's speech and unravel it into +grammatical order; and one is often astonished next +morning to read an interesting speech extracted +from chaos. +</p> + +<p> +If some distinguished person—say, Sir +Henry Irving—accepts an invitation to sup +with a club, it will be the duty of the committee +to see that a full toast-list is prepared, as, after +the strong mental strain he has just come +through, it will be a relief and a rest to him to +have his mind diverted to such subjects as +"The Provost and Magistrates of Edinburgh," +"Our Educational Interests," "Our Mercantile +Interests," "The Clergy," &c., and you can +afterwards give your friends an idea of the +splendid night you had by saying you "kept it +up till three in the morning." +</p> + +<p> +The one who has to propose "The Provost +and Town Council" must allude to our beautiful, +our own romantic and historic town, giving +the Council all credit, and say that no one has +the interest of our city more at heart than ——, +whoever is to reply. He may have acted as if +he had mistaken the Council Chambers for the +House of Commons or a licensed grocer's back +parlour; he may have been active in bringing +Edinburgh into ridicule, so that, like the +inhabitant of another town when from home, we +feel we should say, "I belong to Edinburgh, +but, as share's death, I couldna help it." Still, +the classic expression must be used; and whoever +replies will say with all the earnestness of +an original expression, "There is no one who +has the interest of the city of Edinburgh more +at heart than I have," and thereby confirm the +truth of your assertion. +</p> + +<p> +If the phrase "Proudest moment of my life" +is used, the speaker should try to get up a +suitable expression, as it is sometimes said in such +melancholy tones as would lead the audience +to doubt the assertion, or give them a humble +opinion of previous proud moments. +</p> + +<p> +But if the proposing of or replying to a toast +should destroy one's enjoyment of a dinner, how +much more serious is it for the chairman, who +has several toasts to propose; and yet if he has +listened as he ought to have done to others in a +similar position, the difficulties will diminish. +He will remember that when the toast of "The +Queen" was given, the chairman said, "I am +sure there is no body of men more loyal than +——," whatever the company happened to be +composed of. In giving "The Navy, Army, and +Volunteers," the chairman always begins by +saying, "With regard to." +</p> + +<p> +"With regard to our Navy, you all know +what our tars have done in the past; and though +our wooden walls have been superseded by +ironclads, still the same 'hearts of oak,'"—the rest +of the sentence is immaterial, as it is always +drowned in applause. +</p> + +<p> +"With regard to our Army, you all know what +our soldiers have done in the past." This, of +course, is a repetition; still it is flattering to the +company to give them the credit of being posted +in our great battles. "And should the day ever +come, though I hope it is far distant"—(pause +for "Hear, hear")—"I am sure they will give +a good account of themselves." Changing his +tone of voice, he then says: +</p> + +<p> +"With regard to our Volunteers, I have no +doubt that, should the day ever come," &c. (see +remarks on the Army). +</p> + +<p> +Should your health be proposed in a strange +town, you will make a hit by discovering some +special reason for liking the place,—the best, of +course, being that you were born there; and in +this respect one of our eminent statesmen is a +master,—he seems not only to have been born +again, but several times. If no personal reason +can be found, the speaker must fall back on some +historical incident or person or thing, saying, +"Of course we have all a warm side to a town so +closely associated with Sir Walter Scott," or +Burns or Wallace, as the case may be, though +this only gives you a claim shared in by all +Scotsmen, and is to be resorted to only when +the personal element cannot be introduced. +</p> + +<p> +A free and easy style of speech should be +cultivated, and perhaps there is no better way of +appearing at ease than by playing with a wine +glass, a fruit knife, or the watch chain. If done +successfully, the speech may seem to occupy a +secondary position in your thoughts. To timid +people it is especially useful, as, by bending the +head down while drawing imaginary designs on +the tablecloth, your remarks will not be heard, +and mistakes will pass unobserved; and should +there be an apparent dearth of subject in your +toast, you can draw it out to the length you +fancy desirable by introducing a story, <i>apropos</i> +if possible, or by encroaching on some of the +other subjects. The speaker who follows may +justly complain that you have taken the wind +out of his sails, but you can leave him to raise +the wind for himself. +</p> + +<p> +Like Lady Jane in "The Mikado," the occupancy +of the chair is an acquired taste, and many +a one who has had to be pushed into the position +has developed an abnormal love for making +speeches. +</p> + +<p> +Three winters ago one of this description +presided at a curling-club dinner; and as he took +up the toasts one by one, whispers went round +the company that he was the very man to represent +his ward in the Town Council. And he +seemed to be of the same opinion, for after he +had gone through the toast-list he toasted +individually every one of the company who had +been omitted, and, as a last resort, when they +were used up, he had the landlord of the hotel +brought in, and made an eloquent speech on the +way the dinner had been served, making the +beef and greens appear a royal banquet, and, as +a proof of the landlord's worth, mentioned that +he had known him for the last thirty years. The +eloquence seems to have had the desired effect, +if speech-making is a <i>sine quâ non</i> for our +Council, as he is now a Councillor. +</p> + +<p> +It is no doubt extremely annoying to remember, +after you have finished your toast, that you +have forgotten the best part of it,—the joke you +intended to crack, or the story you meant to +tell,—and the only way to relieve your feelings +in this case, and to ensure a good night's sleep, +is to secure as many as you can in the cloak-room, +and have an adjournment, where you can +take an opportunity to let it off. +</p> + +<p> +The number of times the foregoing classic +expressions have been used will only be +exceeded by the number of times they will be used; +and by making free use of them no one need +despair of occupying a chair in the Council +Chambers, and going down honoured and +respected by all who knew him. +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap10"></a></p> + +<h3> +"HOW D'YE DO?" +</h3> + +<p> +Everybody is apt to say of +every cold he has, that it is "the worst I ever +had"; but I think I can truthfully say that the +one from which I am now suffering beats all its +predecessors. +</p> + +<p> +I am often told that I should be more careful +of myself; but who would think of getting such +a cold as I have, by simply saying to an old lady, +"How d'ye do?" I had just returned from a +month in the country, braced up, as I thought, +for the coming winter; and now I am weaker +and less fit for work than before I went away, +and all through asking the simple question, +which means nothing. The old Scotch manner +of "Hoo are ye?" replied to by "Thank ye for +speirin'; hoo are ye yersel'?" showed that our +sensible forefathers knew the formality of the +question, and did not consider it worth replying +to. But that does not seem to be the opinion of +my lady friend. +</p> + +<p> +On the way home I made the acquaintance +of a young Englishman, who said he intended +spending a few days in Edinburgh before +returning south; and when, on the Sunday morning, +he said he should like to hear one of our +celebrated divines, I offered to accompany him. +And if my friend wished to get an idea of what +a Scotch sermon was like, we could not have +been more fortunate: the text was soon lost +sight of, and the preacher warmed to his task. +Taking it for granted that his apparently +respectable congregation was of the worst +possible order, he worked himself into a passion, +telling his hearers of their fearful future, +dealing out revenge in copious quantities, and +ignoring anything like love, mercy, or even justice. +</p> + +<p> +The heat of the sermon had worked me into +a perspiration, and when on the way out my +friend said, "Do you pay your ministers to +insult you in that way?" I could not think of a +reply, feeling he was looking down on us from +a higher civilisation, and was glad of the excuse +to say "How d'ye do?" to the old lady who had +just caught my eye. +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Fraser is an Aberdonian, and, though +she has been half a century in Edinburgh, she +has lost none of her northern accent, much to +the annoyance of her daughters. +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, I'm nae weel at a'," she replied. "I'm +nae sae young as I've been, an' I seem tae be a' +breakin' up thegither." +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, I'm very sorry," I said; "but I hope +you'll soon be bet——" +</p> + +<p> +"I'm fair lame wi' thae rheumatics i' the knee, +an' I've tried a'thing I can think o'. I'm share, +the siller I've spent on liniments an' medicines +wad—I dinna ken what: an' jist thrown awa'. +An' as for rubbin'——" +</p> + +<p> +Before she could find a simile for the useless +effects of rubbing, I said, "Well, I'll bid you +good——" +</p> + +<p> +"Ye micht as weel—I dinna ken what," she +said, finding her suitable expression. "An' then, +my back's aye troublin' me: it's an awfu' thing, +that lumbagie; but ye'll ken naething aboot +that; an' the doctors dinna seem tae be able tae +dae me ony guid." +</p> + +<p> +I took advantage of her coughing, to say +"My friend is waiting on me, so I'll say——" +</p> + +<p> +"Not a bit o' guid: hot flannels, an' ironin' +an' I dinna ken what a'; an' ye micht jist as +weel—I dinna ken what." +</p> + +<p> +"Well, I'll not keep you standing in the cold," +I said, as if I had been detaining her, though I +was beginning to shiver after the hot time we +had been treated to inside; but she did not seem +to hear me, and continued: +</p> + +<p> +"An' then I was three weeks nursin' Mr. Fraser. +Ye wad see aboot it in the papers——" +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, I was very sorry to——" +</p> + +<p> +"Never had my claes aff, ye may say, for it +was jist het watter an' laud'num cloths day an' +nicht. 'Peritonitis' the doctors ca'd it, but I ken +better: it was jist inflammation in 's inside, wi' +a chill." +</p> + +<p> +"In—deed!" I said, with as much sympathy +of expression as I could throw into the word. +"Well, I am afraid I'm keeping you in the cold, +and my friend is——" +</p> + +<p> +"Ay, he was jist worn awa' tae skin an' bane. +I'm share he was an awfu'-like ticket; but I'm +wonderfu', considering an' I have a lot tae be +thankfu' for, after a'. Diabetes, an' indyspepsy, +an' a' their fancy names! but it's naething mair +nor less than indisgestion, an' bad enough it is +at that." +</p> + +<p class="capcenter"> +<a id="img-115"></a> +<br> +<img class="imgcenter" src="images/img-115.jpg" alt=""I'M FAIR LAME WI' THAE RHEUMATICS" <i>By W. Grant Stevenson, R.S.A.</i>"> +<br> +"I'M FAIR LAME WI' THAE RHEUMATICS" <br> +<i>By W. Grant Stevenson, R.S.A.</i> +</p> + +<p> +I was now chilled through, and had been +standing for ten minutes holding out my hand +like a railway signal at the angle of "caution," +ready to shake hands and get away. The crowd +which had (as is usual on leaving church) blocked +up the pavement for a considerable time, had +all dispersed, and my friend was gesticulating +wildly for me to "come on." He had whispered +to me, in his Cockney style, when the sermon +was finished, "A pint of beer will go down fizzing +after that; that's a hot 'un, that is," and I knew +he was now impatient to realise his wish. Still +he was better off than I was; he was walking +about to keep himself warm, while I was shivering +beside one who forcibly brought to mind +Outram's picture: +</p> + +<p class="poem"> + "But her! expose her onywhere,<br> + She'll ca' for her annuity";<br> +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +and I could not help admiring her constitution +and indifference to temperature, though I should +have been better content without proof of it. At +last, getting desperate, I caught her hand and +hurriedly said, "Good-bye." +</p> + +<p> +"Well, good-bye," she said; "I'm rale gled +tae see ye; an' hoo's yer mither?" +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, she's quite well, thank you; good-bye." +</p> + +<p> +"Good-bye; remember me tae her, an' be +share an' tell her I was speirin' for her, an'——" +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, thanks; I'll tell her; good-bye." +</p> + +<p> +"Say I was jist thinkin' aboot her the ither +day, an' sayin' tae Maggie I mun ca' sune." +</p> + +<p> +"She'll be very pleased to see you, I'm sure," +I said, edging away; and before she had time to +reply, I lifted my hat and hurried off, and began +to apologise to my friend; but he said, "It's all +right, old man; I was sorry for you. I know the +sort; but if you've any regard for your own +health, you'll not ask after hers again on a cold +day. I was smiling when I saw you make a +grab at her hand; and when she kept a hold, +and went on saying 'Good-bye,' I was afraid +you were in for more of it. It reminded me of a +quiet boy who once called on us; and when I +asked him, 'How's your father?' he said, 'He's +quite well, thank you.' +</p> + +<p> +"'And your mother?' +</p> + +<p> +"'She's quite well, thank you.' +</p> + +<p> +"'And your uncle?' +</p> + +<p> +"'He's quite well, thank you." +</p> + +<p> +"'Big handsome fellow your uncle, isn't he?" +</p> + +<p> +"'I haven't got an uncle.' +</p> + +<p> +"I had mistaken the boy.—I say, by Jove, +you're as white's a sheet; let's hurry to my +hotel." +</p> + +<p> +A week has now crept slowly by, and I have +not been able to get warm. I shiver as if I had +ague; and blankets and hot drinks seem useless. +My eyes water when I try to read; and I pass +the time studying the wall-paper. I seem to have +got mesmerised with it,—discovering faces, +figures, and animals among the flowers, only to +lose them and search for them again. Wallpapers +are diabolical affairs. It never struck me +before how barbaric they are; though I remember +of being afraid, when I was a little boy, to +sit at the right of my grandfather's fire for an +ugly demon with long yellow and white legs on +the imitation marble mantelpiece. We may call +ourselves Liberals, Radicals, or Conservatives, +but we are all conservative by nature. The first +fiend who designed a wall-paper made the roses +run in diagonal lines, and all his successors +have followed him in this respect without +considering the reason. +</p> + +<p> +Why should we have flowers on wall-paper? +And if we must submit to flowers, why should +they not be natural? Why should not the tired +eye be able to rest when we are in bed? Simply +because the first fiend who designed wall-papers +fixed it on his conservative disciples; he +evidently "had them bad" at the time, or was just +recovering from a second or third attack, and +it is a great pity he had not died under the +first. +</p> + +<p> +The flowers on my bedroom wall are evidently +meant for chrysanthemums; but they are +on a colossal scale, and afford every opportunity +for one who has the leisure I have had this +week of discovering a variety of subjects. There +is the head of an old woman with a long nose; +but I am annoyed when I look at her, as I want +to get up and correct the drawing of her left +eye, and, as there are hundreds of her round the +room in every repetition of the pattern, I feel I +would require a lot of paint. Then I turn away +from her and look for the dancing negro, whom +I only discovered on Thursday. He is difficult +to find, as I am not so familiar with the place. +The old woman keeps looking at me from every +diamond; and I see the dog's head, with the ears +formed by two leaves. But where is the negro? +I think, "This is the wall-paper: where is the +negro?" and "He won't be happy till he gets it." And +when I do find it, my eyes are so tired that +I look to the ceiling for a rest; but the negro +floats on the ceiling,—only he is green instead +of brown, and the old woman is purple. I shut +my eyes, but they still float in changing colours. +I am certain the first designer had <i>delirium +tremens</i>. +</p> + +<p> +"If I had the designing of wall-papers, I +would make them different," I think; but +perhaps I am like the gentleman who said, "Give +me the making of a country's songs, and I +don't care who makes its laws." He never +wrote any songs, though no one had the +contract. +</p> + +<p> +Last spring the house-painter insisted on my +selecting this paper as being from the latest +book of patterns; but I had no idea of the +mysterious and unsatisfactory figures it contained. +One has to study it for a week to discover all +there is in it, and there was not time then, or I +might have said, "The woman's eyes are not +the same size; the negro has one leg longer than +the other; and the dog's nose is not at the right +angle." +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p> +When I am able to get out of bed, I shall have +paper of a simple tint put on, and I shall be +careful to whom I say "How d'ye do?" +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap11"></a></p> + +<h3> +M'CRANKY'S BRACE OF GROUSE +</h3> + +<p> +The M'Crankys have had a few +friends to dinner, but though the viands and +wine were faultless, three of the four couples +who sat down, left with the disagreeable feeling +of being 'found out' in a little bit of pardonable +deception. +</p> + +<p> +M'Cranky had gone, as usual on the Twelfth, +to his friend's shooting on the Lugate, only +thinking of the pleasure of inhaling the +invigorating air and the delightful sensation of +hearing the birds fall with a thud. A shooting +season makes one forget the drawbacks in the +shape of climbing a hill, only to find that we +have to go down the other side to climb +another; then there are the interminable "hags," +so easy to slide into and so difficult to climb +out of, as one sinks over the boots in the wet +peaty earth. +</p> + +<p> +None of the party having M.P. at the end of +his name, it was arranged that they should go +out on the 11th and have a look over the ground; +the weather did not look promising, but Gilfillan +the keeper tried to inspire hope by saying that +"it micht clear up by the morn," adding, as if +to himself, "if the wind wad only change." Carts +of provisions were arriving, and the +white-washed house seemed to be preparing +for a lengthened siege. The night was passed +pleasantly, each one recalling the good shooting +he had done last season. +</p> + +<p> +"Do you remember the blackcock I brought +down after you had fired at it, up by the +shepherd's house? it was a long way out." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, but that gun of mine carries a long way. +I killed a hare on the moor, dead on the spot, +and paced it, eighty-two paces. Gilfillan saw it." +</p> + +<p> +No one required to be called in the morning; +and as each one got up, he went to the window +to find a leaden sky and a drizzling rain, which +looked as if it meant to stay a few days. +</p> + +<p> +During breakfast there were many glances +out of the window in the hope of seeing a clear +streak of sky rising behind the hill, and when +the repast was over and pipes lit, there was a +general saunter round to the kennels to hear +Gilfillan's opinion. +</p> + +<p> +"I canna just say I like the look o't; be quiet, +wumman; they dowgs is just daft to get oot. I +wadna wonder, though, if it clears up by the +efternoon. The dowgs ken fine what's up when +they see you gentlemen; bit as lang's ye keep +on the move, a drap rain'll no hurt ye, though +the birds'll no sit sae weel." +</p> + +<p> +The dogs seemed to throw some of their +eagerness into the company, and it was resolved +to make a start—the first few shots almost +making them forget the rain, further than in +keeping their cartridges dry. Half an hour, +however, brought back to M'Cranky's memory +the unpleasant aspect of the sport; the exercise +and excitement kept his heart thumping with +extra violence, his feet were soaking, and every +step made a slushy sound. There is as much +inspiration, however, in following a dog as there +is in "the sound of the drum," and M'Cranky +persevered, wiping rain and perspiration from +his face. +</p> + +<p> +The following days were much the same, and +as the birds were wild and the bags not large, +M'Cranky would not take more than a brace +of birds and a hare on leaving. +</p> + +<p> +"No, no," he said, in reply to his host insisting +on his taking more, "I like game well enough, +but the sport better." +</p> + +<p> +"Is that all you've brought home," said +Mrs. M'Cranky. "I thought——" +</p> + +<p> +"I wouldn't take any more; we had bad +sport." +</p> + +<p> +"I'll tell you what we'll do then; we'll send +them to Mrs. Wallace. You know she——" +</p> + +<p> +"You'll do nothing of the sort, by jingo! +Those birds have cost me," but M'Cranky +suddenly remembered he had better not mention +the sum, as his wife would immediately think +of the dress which could have been got for the +money—her usual idea of comparison. So he +changed his sentence to—"It's not every day I +can go to shoot." +</p> + +<p> +"You had a good deal of shooting last season," +said Mrs. M'Cranky, not in a tone of +reproach, but to put her husband in the good +humour she wished, and set him on pleasant +reminiscences. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, you know," he said, with a smile of +satisfaction with himself, "I couldn't help it; +they were always wanting me to give them a +hand when they wanted a bag." +</p> + +<p> +"And we can have some lovely hare soup," +continued Mrs. M'Cranky, taking the gift of +grouse for granted. Generosity, no doubt, was +her principal feeling, though there was an +under-current of satisfaction in the knowledge that the +gift would be understood to reflect credit on her +husband as a sportsman, and he was not long +out of the house till the birds were despatched +to "Mrs. Wallace, with Mr. M'Cranky's compliments." +</p> + +<p> +"What do you think I've got?" said Mrs. Wallace, +in the usual enigmatical fashion of females. +"A brace of grouse from the M'Crankys. +I like the parcel post, but I just hate telegrams; +I'm always afraid to open them in case some +one's dead." +</p> + +<p> +"I know," said Mr. Wallace, "it's a failing of +the sex; you would like the boy to tell you +what's inside before you open the envelope." +</p> + +<p> +"And we've got an invitation to go over and +stay with Nell for a few days, so I was just +thinking we might send the grouse to Mrs. Clark. +I want to take the bounce out of her, at +any rate, and let her know we have swell friends, +too; you can't talk to her five minutes till she +is on to her 'county friends,' her 'West End +friends,' and her 'carriage people.' I know she +won't like taking grouse from me, so I'll just +send them." +</p> + +<p> +"You're a rum lot, you women; I've to want +the grouse to satisfy your stupid idea, I suppose." +</p> + +<p> +"They were addressed to me, and you can +get plenty later on; but I wouldn't miss this +chance for anything. She'll perhaps think +you've been at the shooting, and she'll be just +wild." +</p> + +<p> +"That'll be nice," said Mr. Wallace, with +mild sarcasm; but he had more sense than to +argue the subject, and the grouse were passed +on to "Mrs. Clark, with Mr. Wallace's compliments." +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Clark put on a careless air when the +grouse were brought in, as if she were expecting +a few more similar parcels from her various +"county friends"; but when she read, "With +Mr. Wallace's compliments," the expression on +her face changed. +</p> + +<p> +"The i—dea," she said. "Well, I never! Set +them up! Mrs. Wallace either wants me to think +her husband has been shooting, or that they +have got more from their country friends than +they can use. I'll have to write and thank +her—perfectly annoying." +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Clark gave vent to her feelings while +writing: +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p class="letter"> +"My DEAR MRS. WALLACE—[impertinence].—Thanks +so much for the lovely grouse. [I +would rather—I don't know what—than she +had sent them.] You evidently know my weakness, +dear, and yours is the first we have received +this season. [That'll let her know we are in +the habit of getting game.] I am already looking +forward to the treat. [I won't touch +them.] Thanking you again, and with love.—Yours +affectionately, MARY CLARK. +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p> +"I know what—yes. Mrs. M'Cranky called +the other day for nothing else, I'm sure, than +to let me know her husband was away shooting. +I'll let her know we have friends who have +shootings as well as she has; she'll not know +where we got them." +</p> + +<p> +When Mr. Clark came home at night he +had reluctantly to consent to take them with +him the following morning and send them to +M'Cranky's office. +</p> + +<p> +"Generosity has been rewarded," said +M'Cranky, when he took the birds home at night. +"Clark sent these to the office; very good +of him. Met him at the club at lunch, and asked +him to bring his wife on Thursday to help us +with them. Young birds won't keep." +</p> + +<p> +"We may as well ask Mr. and Mrs. Wallace, +too," said Mrs. M'Cranky; "they haven't been +here since they were married." +</p> + +<p> +"All right; but you'll have to buy another +brace." +</p> + +<p> +"That will be too many, unless we were to +ask Mr. and Mrs. Wilson." +</p> + +<p> +"All right; please yourself." +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. M'Cranky is one of a numerous class +who delight in worrying over preparations for +a dinner, and who feel well rewarded when any +of the ladies remark that "the table is beautifully +laid out," and her excitement was kept up till +the guests arrived, when the conversation +became general, and every one seemed prepared +to laugh at the mildest of jokes; but when the +grouse were brought in, three of the ladies felt +as if the sword of Damocles was hanging over +their heads by a very slender thread. Just +before going to the dining-room, Mrs. M'Cranky +had a final look into the kitchen to see that all +was right, when the cook upset her equilibrium +by saying: +</p> + +<p> +"Do you know, mum, that the two grouse +the master brought in are the same you sent to +Mrs. Wallace?" +</p> + +<p> +"Nonsense!" said Mrs. M'Cranky; "surely +you are mistaken." +</p> + +<p> +"The self an' same birds, mum. I knew the +string; an' one of them had a little grass +sticking under the wing, where it had been bleeding." +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. M'Cranky tried to banish the unpleasant +thought from her mind, but it would return, +as if asking for a solution. +</p> + +<p> +"The grouse is very nice," said Mrs. Wilson. +"One enjoys it so much at the beginning of the +season." +</p> + +<p> +"You have Mr. Clark to thank," said the +innocent M'Cranky, and three swords fell. +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. M'Cranky tried to catch her husband's +eye, but he would not look her way, and it was +too late, at any rate. Mr. Clark got a warning +look from his wife, and though he did not +comprehend it fully, he knew he was to say nothing. +Mrs. Wallace's cheeks turned red, and she tried +to hide her blushes by bending over her plate, +feeling she had made Mrs. Clark her enemy. +</p> + +<p> +The stereotyped compliment was repeated +by everyone on leaving—"Thank you so much +for a very pleasant evening"; but a different +sentiment was expressed in two of the cabs on +the way home. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, that was a good spread," said Mr. Wallace, +with the satisfied tone of one who is +at peace with all mankind. +</p> + +<p> +"Don't light that cigar, for any sake; I feel +just like to cry; I never was so miserable in my +life." +</p> + +<p> +"What's wrong?" +</p> + +<p> +"What's wrong! Can't you see? Mrs. M'Cranky +got back her grouse, and we're all +found out." +</p> + +<p> +"Ha, ha! well, that's a good one." +</p> + +<p> +"Do you think so? I call it just beastly." +</p> + +<p> +"M'Cranky does the thing well," said Mr. Clark. +</p> + +<p> +"Don't speak about it. I never felt so glad +to get out of a house." +</p> + +<p> +"How?" +</p> + +<p> +"That Mrs. Wallace knows I gave away her +grouse, but thank goodness she's found out too." +</p> + +<p> +"I don't understand." +</p> + +<p> +"No; men are donkeys." +</p> + +<p> +"Women are mysteries." +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap12"></a></p> + +<h3> +M'CRANKY'S DECEPTIONS ABOUT GOLF +</h3> + +<p> +It is a pity that evil should +be mixed with our most healthy and, in +themselves, innocent amusements. Some bad men, +who are otherwise modest, boast of and +exaggerate their achievements, tell of the good +things done, and omit the stupid, as in the case +of the sportsman of whom it was said, "What +he hit was history, what he missed was mystery." +</p> + +<p> +Golf is generally admitted to be one of the +best recreations for combining the necessary +amount of excitement, removing all thoughts +of business cares, and at the same time giving +exercise in the open air, making it all the more +regrettable that it should be capable of leading +to the debasing and humiliating position +experienced by Mr. M'Cranky. +</p> + +<p> +Golfers could be found who are considered—and +consider themselves—strictly honest, +who would omit to count a miss if they were +not observed, or surreptitiously move their ball +to a better position. +</p> + +<p> +"There is one thing I like about golf," said an +Englishman who has only been a few months +at the game, "It is impossible to cheat at it." +</p> + +<p> +"You don't know," said his friend, smiling. +"Two caddies were playing for a sovereign, at +Musselburgh, and, in going to Mrs. Forman's, +one lost his ball, and as the five minutes allowed +to look for a lost ball were about up, and he saw +the hole would be lost to him, he quietly dropped +another ball and said, 'Oh, here it is!' when his +opponent, who had apparently been assisting +him to find the ball, turned on him reproachfully +and said, 'That's a lie! I've had your ball +in my pocket all the time.'" +</p> + +<p> +Though M'Cranky is almost invariably in +the wrong in the many arguments he has with +his better half, he has the greatest dislike to +being found out, and never admits being +mistaken; and—argue as he may with himself—he +feels that his duplicity has been discovered +by his wife. +</p> + +<p> +Their friend Mrs. Watson had spent June +and July at a farmhouse near Crieff, and one +day at tea she told Mrs. M'Cranky how much +she and the children had enjoyed the place, and +benefited by it. +</p> + +<p> +"You should certainly take it for August and +September," she said; and Mrs. M'Cranky, +knowing that the selection of summer quarters +was generally left to herself, at once determined +to write and secure the house, little thinking +that M'Cranky had another scheme on hand. +She was impatient for the dinner hour, being +anxious to impart the glowing account of the +place as described by Mrs. Watson. +</p> + +<p> +"Mrs. Watson's home from Crieff," she began, +"and she was awfully sorry to leave, and +she says it's just the place for us, and I'm going +to write after dinner to secure it, in case any +one should be after it." +</p> + +<p> +"You'll have to go yourself, then; I can't." +</p> + +<p> +"But you must, dear; you know quite well +that you require a rest, and it's a fine bracing +place, and plenty of nice milk and eggs, and—" +</p> + +<p> +"I don't care for milk, and in any case I tell +you I can't go." +</p> + +<p> +"And the people are so kind, Mrs. Watson says." +</p> + +<p> +"Why did she come home, then?" +</p> + +<p> +"Oh! she had to, you know; and there's a +horse and a trap we can have the use of. The +farmer used to drive Mrs. Watson and the girls +every day, but he says he couldn't drive now, +as he'll be so busy; but that'll be all the better, +because we'll have it all to ourselves, and you +can drive fine. You remember when——" +</p> + +<p> +"Drive! you would drive anybody out of his +mind with your talk. Didn't I tell you I can't go." +</p> + +<p> +"But you must, dear. I can't let you kill +yourself with work, and Mrs. Watson says it +is very cheap. She got the rooms for eight +pounds and ten pounds, but she thinks it might +be twelve pounds for August, only if we stayed +on we might get it in September for six pounds, +and then there's a great saving. You know +when she was at Luss last year she paid about +thirty shillings to get her luggage taken to the +house, and then she had to pay for the cartage +of the coals—I forget how much, but we would +save all that because the farmer would send a +cart, and that all helps to reduce the rent, you +know." +</p> + +<p> +"Well, we can't go there this month, and +that's all about it. I don't care much where +we go, but I must get into business every morning, +and as you're on the economical tack, we +can get the place cheaper in September. Now +there's North Berwick; I know several fellows +who come into town every morning, and we +can all come together; in fact, I was told of a +house close to the links—to the station; and +then you know"—he added with more than his +usual consideration—"it'll not be so lonely for +you, as you'll meet a lot of your lady friends, +and I can easily spare the Saturdays." +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. M'Cranky was very reluctant to give +up the dream of driving about the country without +having to think of the cost per hour for a +trap. Still she felt business must not be +neglected, and September is often a nice month. +M'Cranky was in a bad humour with himself. +The idea of going to North Berwick had been +a week in his head, and he was annoyed that he +had not spoken of it before Mrs. Watson called, +as he would have simply said, as he intended, +that he would take a house there, for the sake +of the golf. Now, he had, without thinking of +the result, pretended that his object in going +there was in order to be able to attend to +business. He must now, however, keep up the +deception. +</p> + +<p> +"Is there any use putting in your +knickerbockers," said Mrs. M'Cranky, the night before +they were leaving. +</p> + +<p> +"I dare say you may," said M'Cranky; "I +may get a round in the evenings, you know"; +and immediately he had spoken he was annoyed +that he had not had courage to say he intended +having more than a round in the evenings; it +made him feel that he was afraid of his wife, +though he would not admit to himself that such +a thing was possible. It was just the way the +thing had come about, but he would let her know +soon, though, like most people, he put off the +evil day of confession till too late. +</p> + +<p> +"There's no use going in to town to-day," he +said on the first morning. "I'll stay and see the +things unpacked, and they know to write or wire +if there's anything important. Where's my +knickerbockers?" +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. M'Cranky was pleased with her husband's +thoughtfulness, knowing that he hated to +be asked even to untie a rope; but he had little +intention of ruffling his temper with the hated +work. He was looking at his watch every few +minutes, and asking if breakfast wasn't ready. +</p> + +<p> +"Hurry up," he said to the girl; "just bring in +whatever you have ready. I smell ham; if it's +not ready, I couldn't take any—I mean I don't +wish ham this morning, unless it's—; look sharp +with whatever you have." +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. M'Cranky was still in the bedroom, and +he was hurrying with his breakfast as if he had +only a few minutes to catch the morning train, +so that he had just about finished when she +entered. +</p> + +<p> +"You haven't finished already?" she said, as +he rose from the table. +</p> + +<p> +"Yes; you've been a long time of dressing. +Just help yourself to the ham, and I'll go out +and have a saunter." +</p> + +<p> +He had great difficulty in keeping his hands +from his watch, and in restraining himself to +walk slowly out of the room with the necessary +aimlessness of one who has nothing to do. In +the lobby he was careful not to make a noise in +lifting the clubs, and though a door in the back +garden opened to the Links, he walked out +by the front, as the dining-room window +commanded a view of the back garden; and no +sooner had he got away from the house than +he doubled his pace, making up his mind that +he wouldn't sneak away in that manner again, +but just say he was going to golf—not thinking +how much easier it is to get into deceit than to +get out of it. +</p> + +<p> +"What's kept you?" said his friend Macfarlane +at the teeing ground; "our number has +been called." +</p> + +<p> +"Well, there's a lot of things to unpack, you know." +</p> + +<p> +This was literally true, but M'Cranky felt +that his expression of it was fallacious, and, as +he remembered reading at school, very nearly +related to falsehood. It was humiliating, but +he would put it all right to-morrow morning, +and he might have acted up to his intentions +if he had been able to adopt the proverb of +thinking twice before speaking once; but when, +next morning, Mrs. M'Cranky said, "You're +not going to town in your knickerbockers, are +you?" he hastily said: +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, I don't know; there's nobody in town +you know; but, in fact, I wasn't thinking——" +</p> + +<p> +"Oh yes, keep them on. I like you in +knickerbockers. I wish everybody wore +them—gentlemen, I mean." +</p> + +<p> +The interruption was unfortunate for poor +M'Cranky's resolution; he was screwing himself +up to say that he wasn't thinking of going +to town, and giving up the pretence of not +being able to get away from business. He did +not like the idea of going round the Links, +continually looking about him in fear of meeting +his wife; but she had no suspicion, as he walked +out without clubs, having told his caddie to +keep them for him; and when she said, "You're +not going to town with these clumsy boots +on? Put on your brown shoes; they are much +neater," he mumbled something about hurting +his feet when he had thick stockings on. +</p> + +<p> +The deception had been going on for about +a fortnight, and M'Cranky was getting hardened +in it, when his friend said, "Mrs. Macfarlane +was telling me she had asked Mrs. M'Cranky +along to supper to-night, and I was to bring you +along with me." +</p> + +<p> +"Thank you," said M'Cranky, with an idea +that exposure was imminent. Would he ask +his friend not to allude to golf? No; that would +be a confession that he was afraid of his wife, +and he would have no one think that. He must +trust to luck. It would be bad enough for his +wife to find it out, but worse if before other +people. That was his least enjoyable day; and +as golf requires all one's attention, and M'Cranky's +thoughts were wandering, he played a bad +game. He was wishing the night safely over, +and he would certainly put an end to the deceit +next day. +</p> + +<p> +"Aren't our husbands looking well?" said +Mrs. Macfarlane to Mrs. M'Cranky. "But no +wonder they are brown; the two of them are +never off the——" +</p> + +<p> +"You have a fine view here," M'Cranky +interrupted, trying to change the subject. +</p> + +<p> +"Yes; I suppose you haven't been as far east +before? You men never think of anything but +the Links; you never think of taking out your +wives." +</p> + +<p> +"Well, you know, Mr. M'Cranky hasn't much +time just now, and I know he is the better of +any exercise he can get. However, next month +we are going to Crieff, and he'll have no +business to worry him; but when one has to go in +to business every day, it just spoils the——" +</p> + +<p> +"May we have a smoke?" said M'Cranky +perspiring with excitement. "We might go +outside"; and the two women were left to have +a talk by themselves. +</p> + +<p> +"Does your wife think you go in to town +every morning?" Macfarlane asked, laughing, +when they got outside. +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, I don't think so," said M'Cranky, with +assumed carelessness. "You see, she wanted +to go to Crieff this month, and I—eh—didn't +see my way at the time, and—eh—perhaps I +didn't say anything about it after. She's always +late for breakfast, and, in fact, I never thought +anything about it." +</p> + +<p> +The two ladies laughed when their husbands +returned; and when Mrs. Macfarlane +said, "There's not one better than another; men +were deceivers ever," M'Cranky felt that the +secret was out. "He has been telling his wife," +he thought; "some men can't keep anything +from their wives." Still he felt that he was only +trying to excuse himself, and that he was in the +wrong—a bitter admission for him to have to +admit even to himself. And what was the cause +of all his deceit? Simply that Davidson had +asked him to have a day at Kinghorn, and had +beaten him; and he had determined to have a +month's practice, and challenge him again. "I +could easily beat Davidson," he said, when +asked how they got on; "he has a bad style of +addressing the ball, and only takes a half swing." +</p> + +<p> +Davidson, however, had been practising too, +and has beaten him again in the return match, +and now M'Cranky has not even the satisfaction +of feeling that his subterfuge and humiliation +have been compensated. +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap13"></a></p> + +<h3> + MRS. M'CRANKY AT THE +<br> +INTERNATIONAL FOOTBALL MATCH... +</h3> + +<p> +"You don't require uour ulster +to-day, dear," said Mrs. M'Cranky on Saturday +afternoon, seeing her husband preparing +to go out; "it's quite mild, and your ulster's so +shabby at any rate, and you've got your heavy +shoes on too—are you going to golf?" +</p> + +<p> +"No, I was thinking of going to the football +match." +</p> + +<p> +This was said as if his mind had not been +made up on the subject, though he had bought +two tickets for the stand the week before, one +of which he had forgotten to give to the friend +for whom he intended it. +</p> + +<p> +"Is that where all the people are going? They +were going down Queensferry Street in crowds +just now when I came along. I wonder you can +be bothered going to such a thing. May I come +with you?" +</p> + +<p> +"You'll be tired; you've just been out; and +you don't think it will be worth seeing." +</p> + +<p> +"I'll not be tired if I'm with you, and I don't +care what it is as long as I'm beside you. I was +at the Exhibition." +</p> + +<p> +"Come along, then; we must hurry up to get +a good seat." +</p> + +<p> +"What a crowd of people!" said Mrs. M'Cranky, +as they were entering the gate. "What +do they charge for admission?" +</p> + +<p> +"A shilling," said Mr. M'Cranky, truthfully, +but fallaciously, handing over two tickets for +which he had paid 3<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i> each. +</p> + +<p> +"There's nothing to be seen but people. +What are these men doing at that table?" +</p> + +<p> +"These are the reporters." +</p> + +<p> +"Is it so interesting as that? Will people +read about it?" +</p> + +<p> +"I should think so; it's the first thing a lot of +fellows look at." +</p> + +<p> +"But what is the game? What do they try +to do?" +</p> + +<p> +"Well, you see, the match to-day is between +Scotland and Wales. The Scotch will try to +drive the ball one way, and the Welsh the +other; and if they kick it over that bar, that's +a goal, and counts five." +</p> + +<p> +"And do you mean to say that men will come +all the way from Wales to kick a ball over a +post?" +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, and crowds will come with them to see it." +</p> + +<p> +"Well, I didn't think men could be so stupid." +</p> + +<p> +"Wait till you see them at it, and you'll +understand. Here they come! I hear the people +shouting. There they are! That's Wales!" +</p> + +<p> +"They look very nice in their red jerseys. I +hope they'll win." +</p> + +<p> +"I hope not, by jingo! or I'll lose half a—eh; +why do you hope they'll win? Wouldn't you +be better pleased if Scotland won?" +</p> + +<p> +"No; I think if they are at the trouble to +come all this length, it would be only kindness +of our side to let them win, and then they would +go home pleased." +</p> + +<p> +"There's Scotland coming in at the other +end; hooray!" +</p> + +<p> +"I hope they'll win too. They look very +nice, but their jerseys are not so clean; they +might have had them washed when they are +receiving company. That's not a rough game. +I've heard they were sometimes rough with +each other." +</p> + +<p> +"They haven't begun yet; that's only a bit fun +to stretch themselves. There's a pigeon away." +</p> + +<p> +"Where did it come from, dear?" +</p> + +<p> +"The reporters; there, it's away to the office +with a message." +</p> + +<p> +"The dear, sweet, innocent thing; I hope it +will find its way; it's flying round about, poor +thing." +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, it's all right. Scotland's lost the toss; +they're kicking off." +</p> + +<p> +"I wonder you can laugh, dear," said +Mrs. M'Cranky a few minutes later; "didn't you see +one of the Wales men knocked over, and his +trousers are all mud, and the clumsy fellow who +did it never stopped to apologise. No wonder +the English think we're a set of savages. Hold +your tongue, dear; don't shout like that. I +wouldn't encourage them, and the people will +hear you. There's another man down; it's +perfectly disgraceful; and there's that stupid +policeman looking on and pretending he doesn't see +it. Now, if that were to happen in the street, +he would take the man up quick enough. If I +were these men from Wales, I would never +come back." +</p> + +<p> +"Well stopped, Cameron!" shouted M'Cranky. +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, do you know them, dear? He's knocked +down, I declare. The Welshmen are no +better than ours. Is the little one Cameron?" +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, yes; don't haver, it was well stopped." +</p> + +<p> +"But that Welshman ought to be ashamed +of himself; he's so much bigger than Cameron. +Is he nice?—Cameron, I mean." +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, a very nice fellow." +</p> + +<p> +"Well, I think it's cruel to behave like that; +he might have been hurt. What's the use of +behaving like that? I don't understand what +they're trying to do. What's the use of—look +at that! I'm not going to stay here any longer; +somebody is sure to get hurt. There was a +man took another by the neck and deliberately +threw him on the ground, just because he had +the ball, I suppose. What's the use of fighting +like that over a ball? Can they not take the +other one—I saw them bring in two—and let +each side use their own ball? Do you see any +fun in that? Come away home, dear; you're +shaking with cold." +</p> + +<p> +M'Cranky was shaking, but it was with excitement. +</p> + +<p> +"Not precious likely," he said. "I wouldn't +miss this for anything. Pass! The idiot! why +didn't he pass?" +</p> + +<p> +"He couldn't get past, dear. You shouldn't +speak like that. Didn't you see that man took +a hold of him as if he had been a pickpocket? +What are they doing now?" +</p> + +<p> +"Scrimmage." +</p> + +<p> +"I declare the people are all mad, shouting +'Scotland.' Can't they see the poor fellows are +doing their best; and, besides, it's bad taste +before the visitors. I can't understand you +men; you wouldn't hurt a fly, and yet you laugh +and shout 'well played' or something when +a man throws another down and falls on the +top of him. I didn't think you could be so +cruel." +</p> + +<p> +"Rubbish! Well saved again, Cameron! +Played, MacGregor!" +</p> + +<p> +"If you know the gentlemen, you should +speak to them, dear; tell them not to be so +rough, and I'm sure they would enjoy the game +better. What will their mothers say when they +go home with their clothes in such a mess! I +wouldn't let them play if they were mine." +</p> + +<p> +"Half-time. Well, the Scotch should do +something next half, with what wind there is +in their favour." +</p> + +<p> +"Is it not finished, dear? I don't think we +should stay. I'm sure you'll catch cold; you've +just been shivering all the time. Is that slices +of lemon they're getting? I think they should +get some nice warm water to wash themselves, +they are all so dirty; and I'm sure they would +be the better of a cup of tea. It seems very +difficult to do what they are trying, and no +wonder; when any one got the ball and was +running away, that gentleman with the flag blew a +whistle and brought him back. What business +has he to interfere?" +</p> + +<p> +"He's referee, and it must have been thrown +forward." +</p> + +<p> +"Well, but one couldn't help that, if it's +wrong. If I had the ball I would just run +on, and pretend not to hear the whistle. He +spoilt the game several times, and I'm sure +they're all gentlemen, who wouldn't do +anything unfair, though they are rough with each +other." +</p> + +<p> +"They're off again; Sco—otland!" +</p> + +<p> +"Hold your tongue, dear; they're just +working like slaves. I don't see how they can call +that a game." +</p> + +<p> +"D— it, they're in! Isn't—that—most——" +</p> + +<p> +"For shame, dear! You shouldn't speak like +that. I don't see why you should pay to get in +here, for you don't seem to have enjoyed it a +bit. Has Wales won?" +</p> + +<p> +"They've got a try—humbug!" +</p> + +<p> +"Well, I'm very glad, after all their trouble coming here." +</p> + +<p> +"Well played, Leggat! He's always on the +spot when wanted." +</p> + +<p> +"Now, isn't that simply disgraceful! They've +torn a man's jersey. I believe the Welsh are +just as bad as our fellows. Now, it's enough +to give that poor fellow his death of cold, when +he's heated; and the people are laughing, too, +as if it was fun; but they seem to expect that +sort of thing, for there's a man coming with +another. I think they would require to keep a +stock of wooden legs, if they go on that way. +That's not the way gentlemen should behave." +</p> + +<p> +"Our backs are weak," said M'Cranky to himself. +</p> + +<p> +"Well, that one who had his jersey torn off +has a very strong back; don't you think so? +Now, there's one of the Welshmen hurt! I +knew something would happen. It's perfectly +disgraceful in a civilised country. Somebody +should really write to the papers about it; and +what are the policemen doing here if they allow +that sort of conduct? They're taking off his +stocking, poor fellow; I hope he'll have more +sense than try football again, but there's not +one better than another." +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, he's all right; he's getting up again." +</p> + +<p> +"Well, if I were him I would just say I +wouldn't play; he's quite lame, poor fellow. I +can't understand it; he's going to play again. +Well, I hope it'll be a lesson to them all to be +more careful; but I would like to go home, dear. +I'm afraid some one will get hurt. You might +come away; you know you're just exciting yourself +for nothing. What do you say to having a +cup of tea with——" +</p> + +<p> +"Tea, be blowed! I'm not going to move. +Scotland hasn't scored yet, and it's time they +were hurrying up." +</p> + +<p> +"I wonder you can be so cruel, dear. I think +they have all more need of a rest." +</p> + +<p> +"By jingo! there's Menzies in! No, he's +brought back. Isn't that most——" +</p> + +<p> +"Be careful, dear; people will hear you." +</p> + +<p> +"Another try for Wales—well, I'm——" +</p> + +<p> +"Hush, dear, we should really go away; +you're getting quite cross." +</p> + +<p> +"No wonder; it would make a saint swear—two +tries to nothing!" +</p> + +<p> +As Wales added a goal and a try to their +score, M'Cranky got more excited, and his +language waxed stronger; and when the game +was over, he left in the worst of humours. +</p> + +<p> +"I'm sure you haven't enjoyed it a bit," said +Mrs. M'Cranky, "and I'm very glad, for you'll +not go back again. I know I wouldn't sit again +to see young men treat each other so roughly." +</p> + +<p> +M'Cranky wished the game was to be played +over again, and regretted there was not to be +another International Match in Scotland this +year; in any case, Mrs. M'Cranky won't be +asked to go again. +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap14"></a></p> + +<h3> +MR. M'CRANKY +</h3> + +<p> +Mr. M'Cranky is not a bad sort +of man—as long as things go smoothly, but he +hasn't a morsel of patience, and gets out of +temper if his wife can't find anything he wants +at once. +</p> + +<p> +One night at dinner he said: "By the by, +I've got two tickets for the concert to-night; +care to go? I'm not one of those fellows who +never think of taking their wives anywhere; +in fact, I think wives would be much cheerier +to their husbands if they were taken out +oftener." +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, that will be delightful!" said Mrs. M'Cranky, +"only I wish you had told me yesterday, +so that I could have had my dress——" +</p> + +<p> +"Had your dress turned or trimmed, or +something; that's the worst of asking a woman +to go anywhere; as much trouble about it." +</p> + +<p> +M'Cranky settled down to the evening paper, +in front of the fire, with his feet on the grate, +and Mrs. M'Cranky bustled away to get out his +dress suit, and put studs and links in his shirt, +laying them all out, ready to put on. +</p> + +<p> +When she was half dressed she cried: "It's +time you were getting ready, dear." +</p> + +<p> +"All right. I don't take an afternoon to +dress; five minutes 'll do me." +</p> + +<p> +After being called on about a dozen times, +he went to dress, and found his wife struggling +with a hook-and-eye at her back. +</p> + +<p> +"Will you put in this hook, dear?" she said. +</p> + +<p> +"H'm, you might be able to put on your own +clothes by this time; con—found—" then he +gave a tug, and his finger slipped and got +scratched against the hook, and he said +something that sounded like "damaged." +</p> + +<p> +"Never mind, dear, I'll do it myself." +</p> + +<p> +"Where's my shirt?" +</p> + +<p> +"On the bed, dear." +</p> + +<p> +"It isn't." +</p> + +<p> +"I put everything out, ready for you; +rise—oh! that's too bad, you've been sitting on it; +your best one too, and look at it!" +</p> + +<p> +"Never mind, gimme't. Hullo, as usual, no +button on the back; you might manage to keep +one button on a shirt; if I were a woman——" +</p> + +<p> +"That's the new patent one you bought; it +doesn't require a button." +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, you just glue the collar to it, eh? or fix +it with a screw-nail to the back of my neck? +D'ye think I'm going with a collar up the back +of my ears, like Sir Walter Raleigh? Gimme a +one-button shirt." +</p> + +<p> +"That's the one you got to—; it only +requires a stud at the back; you said it was a +'great idea.'" +</p> + +<p> +"See a stud, then." +</p> + +<p> +"I haven't one, dear; didn't you get one with +the shirt? Never mind, I'll fix it with a pin; +it'll do for the night." +</p> + +<p> +"All right, look alive. What are you—? +You needn't pin it to my neck. Where's my +tie? fasten it up." +</p> + +<p> +"Can't you put on your own clothes yet, +dear?" said Mrs. M'Cranky venturing on a mild +retaliation. +</p> + +<p> +"Smart, eh? where's my—. Oh, here it is. +Now, hurry up; you're no further on than when +I came into the room, and I'm nearly dressed." +</p> + +<p> +"I've been attending to you, dear." +</p> + +<p> +"Now, look here, we've only—. Hullo, my +watch is standing." +</p> + +<p> +"Perhaps you forgot to wind it up when you +came home from that dinner last n—this morning." +</p> + +<p> +"Where's the key? it's a strange thing +women must dust everything out of sight. I've +spoken till I'm tired, but you're all the same. +Where is the key? I put it in the tray last night, +and it's away. Can you not get it into that +idiot's head to leave these things where she +finds them?" +</p> + +<p> +M'Cranky will not profit by experience; he +has a feeling that whenever he puts out the gas, +his slippers quietly creep under the bed or the +dressing-table, and he has not yet discovered +that their apparently supernatural disappearance +is due to the way he throws them off. He +has also to learn, in spite of years of experience, +that looking for anything is not his forte, +and that the missing article is generally where +he left it, or in his pocket. +</p> + +<p> +"If you left it there, it must be——" +</p> + +<p> +"Left it there? Of course I did; I always +put it in that tray; but of all the idiots you ever +had, I think this one beats them. Tell her to +go for a cab." +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. M'Cranky rang, and hearing her say: +"Tell Dickson to send a cab in about five +minutes, Sarah," her husband continued: "Look +alive, then, an' get dressed. The concert's +to-night, you know. Where's my hanky? You +always let me out without one, unless I remember. +</p> + +<p> +"I laid one out for you, dear." +</p> + +<p> +"Let's see you lift it then." +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. M'Cranky was busy coiling up her hair +and fastening it with hairpins, taking them +from the usual receptacle (her mouth), so that +she could not speak distinctly. +</p> + +<p> +"I waid it on the beb, dear." +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, you 'waid it on the beb,' did you? +Would you just indicate where that is?" +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. M'Cranky looked round and said: +"There it's in your breast, dear." +</p> + +<p> +"Look alive then; I don't want to go in late, +as if it were church, and you had a new bonnet +on. Hurry up; I'm all ready." +</p> + +<p> +"Are you going in your stocking soles, dear?" +</p> + +<p> +"Where's my shoes? Oh, here they are, now; +hurry up, if you intend to go." +</p> + +<p> +"I'm ready, dear; have you got everything?" +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, yes; come on, for any sake." +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. M'Cranky can't leave the house without +giving the domestic a lot of instructions, and, +as usual, when she was in the lobby, she began: +"Sarah, put out the gas in the dining-room and +shut the door, and keep the cat in the——" +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, come on." +</p> + +<p> +"I'm coming, dear; and, Sarah—"; then +she whispered something, finishing with—"for +supper, when we come home." +</p> + +<p> +"Are you coming to-night?" +</p> + +<p> +"Yes, dear; have you got the opera glass?" +</p> + +<p> +"No; where is it?" +</p> + +<p> +"In the drawer there. Sarah, have a good +fire on, and—" and then followed more whispered +injunctions, concluding with "for breakfast." +</p> + +<p> +When they were seated in the cab, Mrs. M'Cranky +said: "Have you got the tickets, +dear?" +</p> + +<p> +"No; con—found it. Hi! cabby; turn back; +that's the worst of taking women anywhere." +</p> + +<p> +"How, dear; can you get in without a ticket?" +</p> + +<p> +Mr. M'Cranky was so long looking for the +tickets that Mrs. M'Cranky went into help him, +but he had just discovered them in his topcoat +pocket. +</p> + +<p> +"What did you worry me about the tickets +for?" he asked, angrily. "I had them all right." +</p> + +<p> +"Sarah, have you put out the——?" +</p> + +<p> +"Oh, come on." +</p> + +<p> +In paying the cabman, M'Cranky found he +hadn't the necessary sixpence, and after fumbling +in his pockets, he asked his wife: "Have +you a sixpence?" +</p> + +<p> +"No, dear, I'm sorry." +</p> + +<p> +"H'm! you never have any money." +</p> + +<p> +"I know, dear; I wish you would give me +some more frequently." +</p> + +<p> +The doors were not open, and M'Cranky's +small stock of patience had long been exhausted, +and though he had been bustling his wife, +he said: "Now, you see! you would rush me +out; we've half an hour to wait. Just like you +women; no idea of the value of time. I might +have had a comfortable smoke." +</p> + +<p> +"Do you make money smoking, dear? we +ought to be quite wealthy." +</p> + +<p> +Though there was a considerable time to +wait, Mrs. M'Cranky quite enjoyed herself, +studying the dresses of the new arrivals, and +pleased to bow to those she knew, as it showed +them she had a considerate husband, and +M'Cranky had the satisfactory feeling that he +had done his duty as a husband. +</p> + +<p> +On their return from the concert, Mrs. M'Cranky +observed her husband taking the +missing watch-key from his vest pocket; but her +previous experiences in similar circumstances +made her take no notice of his mistake. +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap15"></a></p> + +<h3> +THE SINGING LESSON +</h3> + +<p> +I once had a lesson in singing, +though those who have heard me sing are sceptical. +I got it from a dairyman—a peculiar speaker. +His tongue seemed too large for his mouth, +as if it had been made for his big brother. I +knew that he was fond of singing, because he +had told me he had "A chertificate frae the +Choral Union. Oh, I got it framed up in the hooth +yonder"; and knowing this, I asked him on one +occasion how he was getting on with singing. +"Oh, I'm gettin' on first rate noo. Man, I wath +goin' on the wrang sthyle a'thegither, but I got +thum letth'ns frae an Italian chap—what wath +this his name wath again? Ye wad ken him fine; +he wath in the Italian opery. Aye, hith name was +thignor—aye, his first name was thignor +something. Dash't, I wath thorry for the puir chap. +Dash't, his very pianny wath p'inded! Ay, its +an' awfu' thing that drink! By the by, thpeakin' +aboot drink, I've left the auld man an' thartit a +public hooth. Aweel, thinks I, thith ith a fine +chance to get thum letth'ns in thingin' on the +cheap, theein' he wuth hard up; tho' when I wath +therv'n' um wi' milk, thays I, 'What d'ye chairge +for letth'ns in thingin'?' Thays he, 'Fower +guineaths for twelve letth'ns.' 'Oh, dash it,' thays +I, 'thath's ower much for me,' an' I wath gaun +awa' oot at th' door, an' of course he thocht he +was gaun to loose a customer, so says he, 'What'll +ye thtand us?' Oh, he could thpeak English as +weelth mysel'. 'I'll stand ye a shovrin,' I thays. +'Very weel,' thays he. 'Noo let me hear ye thing +yer favourite thang, so that I can get the thtyle +o' yere v'ice. 'So I starths him on 'Annie +Laurie'—thath's my favrit yin, ye ken—an' here's the +way ye gang at it"; and taking a big breath, and +pointing to the middle of his vest, he explained, +"They dae a' thing frae here nooadays," and +started: "'Hey, Maxwelton braes are bonnie.' Div +ye see, accent on the 'max'; then there was +anither bit I wath gaun on the wrang style +a'thegither—thath's the bit whaur it says, 'I wad lay +me doon and dee.' Hereth the way I was singin' +'t, 'I wad lay-hay me do-hoon and a dee-he.' 'Stop +a meenit,' this Italian chaps ays; 'stop wan +meenit. Wha the devil,' he thays, 'ever heard,' +says he, 'o' onybody,' he says, "'Lay-hayin themsel's +do-hoon an' dee-heein'."' An' it's dasht +nonsense when ye come to think o't. Then there +was anither bit I was gaun on the wrang style +a'thegither—thath's the bit that thays, 'Which +ne'er forgot shall be'; an' this is the way ye gang +at it: 'Which ne'er forgot shall be—and for +bonnie.' Div ye thee jist let ye're v'ice die away, an' +fill yersel' up wi' wind, an' on to the next line. +'Noo,' thays he, 'when ye're gaun up the scale, +tak' the broad Italian <i>a</i>; for inst'nce, when ye +come to the tap notes, ye'll find ye're compress'n +twa-thirds o' yer thrapple thegethir.' An' the +chap's quite richt. I've seen me when I was +at the Corn Exchange, when Wully Gladstone +was there, hear Sir John Cowan o' Beeslack; an' +thays he—a thpeakin' frae his thrapple; jist +what the Italian chap was sayin'—'Gentlemen, +electurth of Midlothian,' compressin' his thrapple. +Dash't, ye couldna' hear him back three +sates; but when Wully Gladstone cam' to the +front o' the pletform, what a difference—a' +wind"; and as an example he repeated "Gentlemen +electors" in a deep stentorian voice, +contrasting with his high-pitched imitation of the +chairman, as he remarked about Gladstone: +"That's the very way he spoke. I didna ken till +I gaed up to this Italian that a' they thingers +an' elocutionists an' ministers, an' a' they devils, +they a' go in for this new-fashioned v'ice +production." +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p><a id="chap16"></a></p> + +<h3> +DAVID AND GOLIATH +</h3> + +<p> +The moral of this story is, +"Ne sutor ultra crepidam," or "The shoemaker +should stick to his stool," or creepie, as it +is in the Latin, and in this case it is illustrated +by the result of a butcher trying to preach. +</p> + +<p> +Before the Forth Bridge was built—of course +the incident happened a considerable time +before the famous structure was erected; but +previous to its means of transit, a steamer used +to cross daily to the Fife shore, and on +Thursday nights among the passengers there was a +revival preacher; but one night, on account of +a storm, the boat did not venture to cross, and +the people of a Fife village were left without +one to conduct the service. After waiting some +time, Tom Carmichael, the village butcher, was +pressed to take the position of pastor. +Unfortunately, Tom had never previously spoken in +public, and he had the further drawback of +having an impediment in his speech, which was +accentuated when, as in his present position, he +was nervous through excitement. +</p> + +<p> +As the audience was principally composed +of children, on account of the mental food +supplied, Tom had the brilliant idea of adopting +the thrilling story of David and Goliath, to show +the boys what they might be able to achieve +if they tried very hard, and proceeded after +the following fashion: "I—I—I'm called on +rather su-suddenly to address the meetin'—address +the meetin'; hooever, I'll tell ye aboot +David an' Goliath. When David was a little +boy, ye know—a little boy, jist like some o' +yersel's, he was jist a wee bit chappie, a +curly-heided callant; maby dozin' his peerie, his top, +or playin' at bools in front o' his faither's door, +on the ca-ca-causeway, on the pa-pavement, the +plainstanes, when his fa-faither comes oot, +cries 'Dauvit,' or maby 'Davie'—'Here, I want +ye to rin awa' ower to the battlefield wi' some +denner to the laddies.' An' of course Dauvit +was quite pleased to gang, ye ken, bicus he had +twa brithers in the militia, an' he wad like to +gang up to hear the band playin'. So he gaed +awa'—gaed awa' to the battlefield, an' the +chi-chi-children of Israel were a' there; the +ch-ildren of Israel—an' their parents nae doot—an' +they were a' brused frae fechtin'. It was their +denner-hour, an' they were a' afraid—no man +would go oot an' meet the giant, this was Goliath +of the Phillipstines. He was a big man, a muckle +man; he stood aboot eight feet six in his stockin' +soles—in fact, a' the giants were big men in +those days. But David says to them, says he, +'What are ye a' feard for?' says he; 'I'll gang +oot an' meet him.' So they took him ower to +Saul's tent an' put some airmour on; but David +said, 'That'll no dae for me; tak' it off, tak' it +off.' So he gaed awa' doon to the burnside—no +a big burn, nor a river, nor an ocean, but jist +a common wee bit burnie brook; an' he pickit +up some stanes, no big stanes, nor a lump o' +rock, but jist a pebble, a ch-ch-uckie, an' he gaed +awa' oot to meet this giant, this was Goliath +o' the Phillictsines, a man aboot the height +o'—a common haystack. An' when Goliath saw +the laddie, says he—stickin' his thumbs in his +waistcoat sleeves, 'What are ye wantin' here?' +says he. An' David says, 'I'll sune let ye +see.' An' Goliath says, 'Wull ye, my man; I'm +thinkin' ye'll sune be goin' back in the ambulance +waggon.' But David never let on he heard him, +but he just put a chuckie in the sling an' let +him have it; struck him on his big fozie heid—on +the brow, the temple, atween his een, abune +the nose; an' Goliath cries oot: 'What are ye +dain? D'ye ken that's sair.' Aye, he hadna time +to cry a barly, he was fair dumbfoundered—sic +a thing as a chuckie had never entered his heid +before; but David jist felled him to the ground, +an' syne up came the ch-ch-ildren of Israel, +rinnin,' an' says they: 'What are ye dain' lyin' +there, ye muckle sumph; can ye no' get up an' +fecht the laddie?' An', says Goliath: 'Hoo can +I get up an' fecht the laddie? D'ye no' see I'm +thrang deein'.' But David jist ran awa' roond +an' got oot his sword an' cutt it aff his heid—cuttit +aff his heid, an' took it hame wi' him—took +it hame wi' him, and—eh—there's a fine moral +kickin' aboot here somewhere; I forget what +it is, but if ye meet wi' ony big difficulty like +Goliath o' the Phillipstines, jist act like little +David, the wee boy." +</p> + +<p><br><br><br><br></p> + +<div style='text-align:center'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 76637 ***</div> +</body> + +</html> + + diff --git a/76637-h/images/img-013.jpg b/76637-h/images/img-013.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..2f1e5fc --- /dev/null +++ b/76637-h/images/img-013.jpg diff --git a/76637-h/images/img-029.jpg b/76637-h/images/img-029.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..c885e77 --- /dev/null +++ b/76637-h/images/img-029.jpg diff --git a/76637-h/images/img-055.jpg b/76637-h/images/img-055.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..75c579d --- /dev/null +++ b/76637-h/images/img-055.jpg diff --git a/76637-h/images/img-067.jpg b/76637-h/images/img-067.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..f5ba06d --- /dev/null +++ b/76637-h/images/img-067.jpg diff --git a/76637-h/images/img-080.jpg b/76637-h/images/img-080.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..5b51567 --- /dev/null +++ b/76637-h/images/img-080.jpg diff --git a/76637-h/images/img-115.jpg b/76637-h/images/img-115.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..6555bb8 --- /dev/null +++ b/76637-h/images/img-115.jpg diff --git a/76637-h/images/img-cover.jpg b/76637-h/images/img-cover.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..4130ea9 --- /dev/null +++ b/76637-h/images/img-cover.jpg diff --git a/76637-h/images/img-front.jpg b/76637-h/images/img-front.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..fc9f65d --- /dev/null +++ b/76637-h/images/img-front.jpg diff --git a/76637-h/images/img-title.jpg b/76637-h/images/img-title.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..c5f3bf1 --- /dev/null +++ b/76637-h/images/img-title.jpg |
