Nature and Human Nature Part 10

"Says Flora, 'Colonel Slick, Mr Dearborne says--says--' Well, she couldn't get the rest out; she couldn't find the English. 'Mr Dearborne says--'

"'Well, what the devil does he say?' said father, stampin' his foot, out of all patience with her.

"It frightened Flora, and off she went out of the room crying like anything.

"'That girl talks worse and worse,' said mother.

"'Well, I won't say that,' says father, a little mollified, 'for she can't talk at all, so there is no worse about it. I am sorry though I scared her. I wish somebody would teach her English.'

"'I will,' sais I, 'father, and she shall teach me Gaelic in return.'

"'Indeed you shan't,' sais mother; 'you have got something better to do than larning her; and as for Gaelic I can't bear it. It's a horrid outlandish language, and of no earthly use whatever under the blessed sun. It's worse than Indian.'

"'Do, Sam,' said father; 'it's an act of kindness, and she is an orphan, and besides, Gaelic may be of great use to you in life. I like Gaelic myself; we had some brave Jacobite Highland soldiers in our army in the war that did great service, but unfortunately n.o.body could understand them. And as for orphans, when I think how many fatherless children we made for the British--'

"'You might have been better employed,' said mother, but he didn't hear her, and went right on.

"'I have a kindly feelin' towards them. She is a beautiful girl that.'

"'If it warn't for her carrotty hair and freckled face,' said mother, looking at me, 'she wouldn't be so awful ugly after all, would she?'

"'Yes, Sam,' sais father, 'teach her English for heaven's sake; but mind, she must give you lessons in Gaelic. Languages is a great thing.'

"'It's great nonsense,' said mother, raisin' her voice.

"'It's my orders,' said father, holding up his head and standing erect. 'It's my orders, marm, and they must be obeyed;' and he walked out of the room as stiff as a ramrod, and as grand as a Turk.

"'Sam,' sais mother, when we was alone, 'let the gall be; the less she talks the more she'll work. Do you understand, my dear?'

"'That's just my idea, mother,' sais I.

"'Then you won't do no such nonsense, will you, Sammy?'

"'Oh no!' sais I, 'I'll just go through the form now and then to please father, but that's all. Who the plague wants Gaelic? If all the Highlands of Scotland were put into a heap, and then multiplied by three, they wouldn't be half as big as the White Mountains, would they, marm? They are just nothin' on the map, and high hills, like high folks, are plaguy apt to have barren heads.'

"'Sam,' said she, a pattin' of me on the cheek, 'you have twice as much sense as your father has after all. You take after me.'

"I was so simple, I didn't know what to do. So I said yes to mother and yes to father; for I knew I must honour and obey my parents, so I thought I would please both. I made up my mind I wouldn't get books to learn Gaelic or teach English, but do it by talking, and that I wouldn't mind father seein' me, but I'd keep a bright look out for the old lady."

"Oh dear! how innocent that was, warn't it?" said they.

"Well, it was," said I; "I didn't know no better then, and I don't now; and what's more, I think I would do the same agin, if it was to do over once more."

"I have no doubt you would," said Janet.

"Well, I took every opportunity when mother was not by to learn words.

I would touch her hand and say, 'What is that?' And she would say, 'Lauch,' and her arm, her head, and her cheek, and she would tell me the names; and her eyes, her nose, and her chin, and so on; and then I would touch her lips, and say, 'What's them?' And she'd say.

'Bhileau?' And then I'd kiss her, and say, 'What's that?' And she'd say. 'Pog.' But she was so artless, and so was I; we didn't know that's not usual unless people are courtin; for we hadn't seen anything of the world then.

"Well, I used to go over that lesson every time I got a chance, and soon got it all by heart but that word Pog (kiss), which I never could remember. She said I was very stupid, and I must say it over and over again till I recollected it. Well, it was astonis.h.i.+ng how quick she picked up English, and what progress I made in Gaelic; and if it hadn't been for mother, who hated the language like pyson, I do believe I should soon have mastered it so as to speak it as well as you do. But she took every opportunity she could to keep us apart, and whenever I went into the room where Flora was spinning, or ironing, she would either follow and take a chair, and sit me out, or send me away of an errand, or tell me to go and talk to father, who was all alone in the parlour, and seemed kinder dull. I never saw a person take such a dislike to the language as she did; and she didn't seem to like poor Flora either, for no other reason as I could see under the light of the livin' sun, but because she spoke it; for it was impossible not to love her--she was so beautiful, so artless, and so interesting, and so innocent. But so it was.

"Poor thing! I pitied her. The old people couldn't make out half she said, and mother wouldn't allow me, who was the only person she could talk to, to have any conversation with her if she could help it. It is a bad thing to distrust young people, it makes them artful at last; and I really believe it had that effect on me to a certain extent. The unfortunate girl often had to set up late ironing, or something or another. And if you will believe it now, mother never would let me sit up with her to keep her company and talk to her; but before she went to bed herself, always saw me off to my own room. Well, it's easy to make people go to bed, but it ain't just quite so easy to make them stay there. So when I used to hear the old lady get fairly into hers, for my room was next to father's, though we went by different stairs to them, I used to go down in my stocking feet, and keep her company; for I pitied her from my heart. And then we would sit in the corner of the fire-place and talk Gaelic half the night. And you can't think how pleasant it was. You laugh, Miss Janet, but it really was delightful; they were the happiest hours I almost ever spent."

"Oh, I don't doubt it," she said, "of course they were."

"If you think so, Miss," said I, "p'raps you would finish the lessons with me this evening, if you have nothing particular to do."

"Thank you, Sir," she said, laughing like anything. "I can speak English sufficient for my purpose, and I agree with your mother, Gaelic in this country is of no sort of use whatever; at least I am so artless and unsophisticated as to think so. But go on, Sir."

"Well, mother two or three times came as near as possible catching me, for she was awful afraid of lights and fires, she said, and couldn't sleep sound if the coals weren't covered up with ashes, the hearth swept, and the broom put into a tub of water, and she used to get up and pop into the room very sudden; and though she warn't very light of foot, we used to be too busy repeating words to keep watch as we ought."

"What an artless couple," said Janet; "well I never! how you can have the face to pretend so, I don't know! Well, you do beat all!'

"A suspicious parent," sais I, "Miss, as I said before, makes an artful child. I never knew what guile was before that. Well, one night; oh dear, it makes my heart ache to think of it, it was the last we ever spent together. Flora was starching muslins, mother had seen me off to my room, and then went to hers, when down I crept in my stockin feet as usual, puts a chair into the chimney corner, and we sat down and repeated our lessons. When we came to the word Pog (kiss), I always used to forget it; and it's very odd, for it's the most beautiful one in the language. We soon lost all caution, and it sounded so loud and sharp it started mother; and before we knew where we were, we heard her enter the parlour which was next to us. In an instant I was off and behind the entry door, and Flora was up and at work. Just then the old lady came in as softly as possible, and stood and surveyed the room all round. I could see her through the crack of the door, she actually seemed disappointed at not finding me there.

"'What noise was that I heard, Flora?' she said, speakin' as mild as if she was actilly afraid to wake the cat up.

"Flora lifted the centre of the muslin she was starching with one hand, and makin' a hollow under it in the palm of the other, she held it close up to the old woman's face, and clapped it; and it made the very identical sound of the smack she had heard, and the dear child repeated it in quick succession several times. The old lady jumped back the matter of a foot or more, she positively looked skared, as if the old gentleman would think somebody was a kissin' of her.

"Oh dear, I thought I should have teeheed right out. She seemed utterly confounded, and Flora looked, as she was, the dear critter, so artless and innocent! It dumbfoundered her completely. Still she warn't quite satisfied.

"'What's this chair doing so far in the chimbley corner?' said she.

"How glad I was there warn't two there. The fact is, we never used but one, we was quite young, and it was always big enough for us both.

"Flora talked Gaelic as fast as hail, slipt off her shoes, sat down on it, put her feet to the fire, folded her arms across her bosom, laid her head back and looked so sweet and so winnin' into mother's face, and said, 'cha n'eil Beurl' (I have no English), and then proceeded in Gaelic--

"'If you hadn't sat in that place yourself, when you was young, I guess you wouldn't be so awful scared at it, you old goose you.'

"I thought I never saw her look so lovely. Mother was not quite persuaded she was wrong after all. She looked all round agin, as if she was sure I was there, and then came towards the door where I was, so I sloped up-stairs like a shadow on the wall, and into bed in no time; but she followed up and came close to me, and holdin the candle in my face, said:

"'Sam, are you asleep?'

"Well, I didn't answer.

"'Sam,' said she, 'why don't you speak?' and she shook me.

"'Hullo,' sais I, pretendin' to wake up, 'what's the matter! have I overslept myself? is it time to get up?' and I put out my arm to rub my eyes, and lo and behold I exposed my coat sleeve.

"'No, Sam,' said she, 'you couldn't oversleep yourself, for you haven't slept at all, you ain't even ondressed.'

"'Ain't I,' said I, 'are you sure?'

"'Why look here,' said she, throwin' down the clothes and pullin' my coat over my head till she nearly strangled me.

"'Well, I shouldn't wonder if I hadn't stripped,' sais I. 'When a feller is so peskilly sleepy as I be, I suppose he is glad to turn in any way.'

"She never spoke another word, but I saw a storm was brewin, and I heard her mutter to herself, 'Creation! what a spot of work! I'll have no teaching of 'mother tongue' here.' Next morning she sent me to Boston of an errand, and when I returned, two days after, Flora was gone to live with sister Sally. I have never forgiven myself for that folly; but really it all came of our being so artless and so innocent.

There was no craft in either of us. She forgot to remove the chair from the chimbley corner, poor simple-minded thing, and I forgot to keep my coat sleeve covered. Yes, yes, it all came of our being too innocent; but that's the way, ladies, I learned Gaelic."