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Wilson's Tales of the Borders and of Scotland Volume VIII Part 18

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"_Stop the supplies!_" returned Patie--"what do you mean, Robin? I canna say that I fully comprehend ye."

"I just mean this," added the other; "be your ain banker--your ain cas.h.i.+er--be maister o' your ain siller--let her find that it is to you she is indebted for every penny she has the power to spend; and if ye dinna bring Tibby to reason and kindness within a month, my name's no Robin Roughead."

"Do ye think that wad do it?" said Patie.

"If that wadna, naething wad," answered Robin; "but try it for a twelvemonth--begin this very nicht; and if we baith live and be spared to this time next year, I'll meet ye again, and I'll be the death o' a mutchkin, but that ye tell me Tibby's a different woman--your bairns different--your hail house different--and your auld mither comfortable."

"O man, if it might be sae," said Patie; "but this very nicht, the moment I get hame, I'll try it--and, if I succeed, I'll try ye wi' a bottle o' wine, and I believe I never drank ane in my life."

"Agreed," said Robin; "but mind ye're no to do things by halves. Ye're no to be feared out o' your resolution because Tibby may fire and storm, and let drive the things in the house at ye--nor even though she should greet."

"I thoroughly understand ye," said Patie; "my resolution's ta'en, and I'll stand by it."

"Gie's your hand on't," said Robin; and Patie gave him his hand.

Now the two friends parted, and it is unnecessary for me either to describe their parting, or the reception which Patie, on his arriving at Birgham, met with from his spouse.

Twelve months went round, Dunse fair came again, and after the fair was over, Patie Crichton once more went in quest of his old friend, Robin Roughead. He found him standing in the horse market, and--

"How's a' wi' ye, my freend?" says Patie.

"Oh, hearty, hearty," cries the other; "but how's a' wi' ye?--how is yer family?"

"Come and get the bottle o' wine that I've to gie ye," said Patie, "and I'll tell ye a' about it."

"I'll do that," said Robin, "for my business is dune."

So they went into the same house in the Castle Wynd where they had been twelve months before, and Patie called for a bottle of wine; but he found that the house had not the wine license, and was therefore content with a gill of whisky made into toddy.

"O man," said he to Robin, "I wad pay ye half a dizen bottles o' wine wi' as great cheerfu'ness as I raise this gla.s.s to my lips. It was a grand advice that o' yours--_stop the supplies_."

"I am glad to hear it," said Robin; "I was sure it was the only thing that would do."

"Ye shall hear a' about it," said Patie. "After parting wi' ye, I trudged hame to Birgham, and when I got to my house--before I had the sneck o' the door weel out o' my hand--

"'What's stopped ye to this time o' nicht, ye fitless, f.e.c.kless cratur ye?' cried Tibby--'whar hae ye been? Gie an account o' yoursel.'

"'An account o' mysel!' says I, and I gied the door a drive ahint me, as if I wad driven it aff the hinges--'for what should I gie an account o'

mysel?--or wha should I gie it to? I suppose this house is my ain, and I can come in and gang out when I like!'

"'Yours!' cried she; 'is the _body_ drunk?'

"'No,' says I; 'I'm no drunk, but I wad hae you to be decent. Where is my supper?--it is time that I had it.'

"'Ye micht hae come in in time to get it then,' said she; 'folk canna keep suppers waitin on you.'

"'But I'll gang whar I can get it,' said I; and I offered to leave the house.

"'I'll tak the life o' ye first,' said she. 'Gie me the siller. Ye had five cogs, a dizen o' bickers, twa dizen o' piggins, three bowies, four cream dishes, and twa ladles, besides the wooden spoons that I packed up mysel. Gie me the siller--and, you puir profligate, let me see what ye hae spent.'

"'Gie you the siller!' says I; 'na, na, I've dune that lang aneugh--_I hae stopped the supplies_, my woman.'

"'Stop your breath!' cried she; 'gie me the siller, every farthin, or wo betide ye.'

"It was needless for her to say _every farthin_; for, had I dune as I used to do, I kenned she wad search through every pocket o' my claes the moment she thocht me asleep--through every hole and corner o' them, to see if I had cheated her out o' a single penny--ay, and tak them up, and shake them, and shake them, after a' was dune. But I was determined to stand fast by your advice.

"'Do as ye like,' says I; 'I'll bring ye to your senses--_I've stopped the supplies_.'

"She saw that I wasna drunk, and my manner rather dumfoundered her a little. The bairns--wha, as I have tauld ye, she aye encouraged to mock me--began to giggle at me, and to mak game o' me, as usual. I banged out o' the house, and into the shop, and I took down the belt o' the bit turning-lathe, and into the house I goes again wi' it in my hand.

"'Wha maks a fule o' me now?'

"And they a' laughed thegither, and I up wi' the belt, and I loundered them round the house and round the house, till ane screamed and anither screamed, and even their mither got clouts in trying to run betwixt them and me; and it was wha to squeel loudest. Sae, after I had brocht them a' to ken what I was, I awa yont to my mither's, and I gied her five s.h.i.+llins, puir body; and after stoppin an hour wi' her, I gaed back to the house again. The bairns were a' abed, and some o' them were still sobbin, and Tibby was sittin by the fire; but she didna venture to say a word--I had completely astonished her--and as little said I.

"There wasna a word pa.s.sed between us for three days; I was beginning to carry my head higher in the house, and on the fourth day I observed that she had nae tea to her breakfast. A day or twa after, the auldest la.s.sie cam to me ae morning about ten o'clock, and says she--

"'Faither, I want siller for tea and sugar.'

"'Gae back to them that sent ye,' says I, 'and tell them to fare as I do, and they'll save the tea and sugar.'

"But it is of nae use dwellin upon the subject. I did stop the supplies most effectually. I very soon brocht Tibby to ken wha was her bread-winner. An' when I saw that my object was accomplished, I showed mair kindness and affection to her than ever I had dune. The bairns became as obedient as lambs, and she soon came to say--'Peter, should I do this thing?'--or, 'Peter, should I do that thing?' So, when I had brocht her that far--'Tibby,' says I, 'we hae a but and a ben, and it's grievin me to see my auld mither starvin, and left by hersel wi' naebody to look after her. I think I'll bring her hame the morn--she'll aye be o' use about the house--she'll can knit the bairns' stockins, or darn them when they are out o' the heels.'

"'Weel, Peter,' said Tibby, 'I'm sure it's as little as a son can do, and I'm perfectly agreeable.'

"I banged up--I flung my arms round Tibby's neck--'Oh! bless ye, my dear!' says I; 'bless ye for that!--there's the key o' the kist and the siller--from this time henceforth do wi' it what ye like.'

"Tibby grat. My mother cam hame to my house the next day. Tibby did everything to mak her comfortable--a' the bairns ran at her bidden--and, frae that day to this, there isna a happier man on this wide world than Patie Crichton the bicker-maker o' Birgham."

MORTLAKE.--A LEGEND OF MERTON.

"Pray, sir, will you condescend to inform me by what t.i.tle you presume to set your foot on my grounds? Have I not already warned you; and if I use you now severely, the blame must rest with yourself."

These words were addressed by Sir Thomas Bruce Vavasour, in an evident state of excitement, to a young lad apparently of about nineteen, but in reality not much above sixteen, whom he met traversing the grounds of Merton. Tom Vallance did not condescend to inform his interrogator why he had presumed to intrude where his presence seemed far from welcome, or explain why, on the present occasion, he happened to have in his hand a gun, which suspicious folks might be apt to suppose was intended to create some little confusion among the game on this well-preserved estate. He returned no very distinct answer; but some inarticulate sounds issued from his mouth, which, no doubt, were intended to deprecate the rage of the hasty and irritable baronet; but which seemed to have the effect only of heightening his ire, as he turned round to his keeper, who, with one of the servants, was at his back, and bade them secure the fowling-piece with which the youth was furnished--a command which was instantly obeyed; and the lad, not prepared for the sudden attack, was without difficulty disarmed.

"Now, my lad," quoth Sir Thomas, "you had better be off, unless you wish me to use violence; for I will not allow my property to be trespa.s.sed upon, and my game destroyed, by you and the like of you."

Tom stood firm, scowling on the baronet. At length he gained nerve enough to say--

"Give me back my gun. You have no right to rob me, nor shall you."

"But you shall submit, my little c.o.c.k-sparrow. Don't suppose I want to keep your twopenny-halfpenny pop-gun. Here, John, just take Master Tom by the shoulders, and turn him off my grounds; and you, Peter, carry this rubbishy thing to Mrs Vallance, and tell her it would better become her to keep her son behind the counter of her shop, to serve her customers with farthing-candles and brown soap, than allow him to vagabondise about the country poaching. If he does not mend his manners, I've a pretty good guess that some of those days he'll either take a voyage at the expense of his country, or get his neck thrust into a noose."

This was certainly impertinent. It was, moreover, unjust and uncalled for; as, whatever might be said to the charge of Tom Vallance, on account of his predilection for field sports, no impeachment lay otherwise to his moral character. But Sir Thomas was in a pa.s.sion; and, like all persons in that state, spoke without reflection. Naturally of a hasty and irritable temper, he had received a letter that morning which excited his ire excessively, and as, upon issuing from the mansion, the lad Vallance crossed his path, the first burst of his wrath fell on his devoted head. Tom felt deeply the insult. He had been accustomed to a shake of the head, and sometimes a sharp word; but Sir Thomas, upon the whole, used him well enough; for, as his mother had been housekeeper in the family during the lifetime of Sir Marmaduke Vavasour, who had married the heiress of Merton, the lad was looked upon, or rather he looked upon himself, as a sort of licensed person on the grounds. To be deprived of his gun was bad, but to insinuate moral turpitude was worse; and, forgetful of the rank of his tormentor, he exclaimed--

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Wilson's Tales of the Borders and of Scotland Volume VIII Part 18 summary

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