PHILISTINE IN THE COAL-HOLE.
It was about the month of March, in the year of grace anno domini eighteen hunder, that the haill country trummelled, like a man ill of the interminable fiver, under the consternation of Bonapartie, and all the French vagabonds emigrating ower, and landing in the firth. Keep us a’! the folk, dydit bodies, pat less confidence than became them in what our volunteer regiments were able and willing to do; though we had a remnant amang us of the true bluid, that with loud lauchter lauched the creatures to scorn, and I for ane, keepit up my pluck, like a true Hielander. Does ony leeving soul believe that Scotland could be conquered, and the like o’ us sold, like Egyptian slaves, into captivity? Fie, fie,—I could spit on siccan haevers. Are ye no descended, faither and son, frae Robert Bruce and Sir William Wallace, having the bright bluid of freemen in our veins and the Pentland hills, as weel as our ain dear hames and firesides, to fight for? The fief that wadna gie cut-and-thrust for his country, as lang as he had a breath to draw, or a leg to stand on, should be tied neck and heels, without benefit o’ clergy, and thrown ower Leith pier, to swim for his life like a mangy dog!
It was sometime in the blasty month of March, the weather being rawish and rainy, wi’ sharp frosty nights, that left all the window-soles white-washed ower with frost-rind in the morning, that, as I was going out in the dark, afore lying doun in my bed, to gie a look into the hen-house door, and lock the coal cellar, so that I might pit the bit key intil my breek pouches, I happened to gie a keek in, and, lo and behold, the awfu’ apparition of a man wi’ a yellow jacket, lying sound asleep on a great lump o’ parrot-coal in a corner.
In the hurry of my terror and surprise, at seeing a man with a yellow jacket, and a blue foraging-cap in such a situation, I was like to drap the guid two-penny candle, and feint clean away; but comming to mysell in a jiffy, I determined, in case it might be a high-way rubber, to thraw about the key, and, rinning up for the firelock, shoot him through the head instantly, if found necessary. In turning round the key, the lock being in want of a feather o’ oil, made a noise, and waukened the puir wretch, who jumping to the soles of his feet in despair, cried out in a voice that was like to break my heart, though I coudna make out ae word of his paraphernally. It minded me, by a’ the world, of a wheen cats fuffing and feighting through ither, and whiles something that sounded like “Sugar, sugar, measure the cord,” and “dabble, dabble.” It was waur than the maist outrageous Gaelic ever spoken in the height o’ passion by a Hieland shearer.
‘Oho!’ thinks I, ‘friend, ye cannot be a Christian from your lingo, that’s one thing poz; and I would wager tippence you’re a Frenchy. Who kens keep us all, but ye may be Bonaparte himself in disguise, come over in a flat-bottomed boat, to spy the nakedness of the land. So ye may just rest content, and keep your quarters good till the morn’s morning.’
It was a wonderful business, and enough to happen to a man, in the course of his lifetime, to find Mounseer from Paris in his coal-neuk, and have the enemy of his country snug under lock and key; so, while he kept rampaging, fuffing, stamping, and diabbling away, I went in, and brought out Benjie with a blanket rowed round him, and my journeyman, Tommy Bodkin,—who being an orphan, I made a kind of parlour boarder of, be sleeping on a shake-down beyond the kitchen fire—to hold a consultation, and be witness of the transaction.
I got my musket, and Tommy Bodkin armed himself with the goose, a deadly weapon, whoever may get a clour with it, and Benjie took the poker in one hand and the tongs in the other; and out we all marched briskly, to make the Frenchman, that was locked up from the light of day in the coal house surrender. After hearkening at the door for a while, and finding all quiet, he gave a knock to rouse him up, and see if we could bring anything out of him by speering him cross-questions. Tammy and Benjie trembled from top to toe, like aspen leaves, but fient a word could we make common sense of it all. I wonder wha edicates thae foreign creatures? it was in vain to follow him, for he just gab, gabbled away like ane o’ the stone-masons at the tower of Babel. At first I was completely bamboozled, and amaist dung stupid, though I kent a word of French which I wantit to pit till him, so I cried through, “Canna you speak Frencha, Mounseer?”
He hadna the politeness to stop and mak answer, but just gaed on wi’ his string of havers, without either rhyme or reason, which we could mak neither tap, tail, nor main o’.
It was a sair trial to us a’, putting us to our wits end, and hoo to come on was past all visible comprehension; when Tammy Bodkin gieing his elbow a claw said, “Odd maister, I wager something that he’s broken loose frae Pennycuick. We have him like a rotten in a fa.” On Pennycuick being mentioned we heard the foreign crature in the coal house groaning out, ‘och’ and ‘ohone,’ and ‘parbleu,’ and ‘Mysie Rabbie,’—that I fancy was his sweetheart at hame, sum bit French queen that wondered he was never like to come frae the wars and marry her. I thocht on this, for his voice was mournfu’, though I couldna understand the words; and kenning he was a stranger in a far land, my bowels yearned within me with compassion towards him.
I wad hae gien half-a-crown, at that blessed moment, to hae been able to wash my hands free o’ him; but I swithered, and was like the cuddie between the twa bundles of hay. At lang and last a thocht struck me, which was to gie the deluded simple cratur a chance of escape; reckoning that if he fand his way hame, he wad see the shame and folly of feighting against us ony mair; and, marrying Maysie Rabbie, live a contented and peacefu’ life under his ain feg and bey tree. So, wishing him a sound sleep, I cried through the door,—“Mounseer, gooda nighta;” decoying away Benjie and Tammy Bodkin into the house, and dispatching them to their beds like lamp-lighters, bidding them never, fash their thumbs, but sleep like taps, as I would keep a sharp look-out till morning.
As soon, hoosomever, as I fand a’ things snug, I slippit awa to the coal hole, and gien the key a canny turn in the lock, I went to my bed beside Nanse.
At the dawn o’ day, by cock-craw, Benjie and Tammy Bodkin, keen o’ the ploy, were up and astir as anxious as if their life depended on it, to see that all was safe and snug, and that the prisoner hadna shot the lock. They agreed to march sentry over him, half an hour the piece, time about, the ane stretching himsell out on a stool beside the kitchen fire, by way of a bench in the guard-house, while the other gaed to and fro like the ticker of a clock.
The back window being up a jink, I heard the twa confabbing. ‘We’ll draw cuts,’ said Benjie, ‘which is to walk sentry first; see, here’s twa straes, the langest gets the choice,’ ‘I’ve won,’ cried Tammy, ‘so gang you in a while, and if I need ye, or grow frightened, I’ll beat leather-ty-patch wi’ my knuckles on the back door. But we had better see first what he is about, for he may be howking a hole through aneath the foundations; thae fiefs can work like moudiewards.’—‘I’ll slip forrit,’ said Benjie, ‘and gie a peep,’—‘Keep to a side,’ cried Tammy Bodkin, ‘for, dog on it, Moosey’ll maybe hae a pistol;—and, if his birse be up, he would think nae mair o’ shooting ye as dead as a mawkin than I would do of taking my breakfast.’
‘I’ll rin past, and gie a knock at the door wi’ the poker to rouse him up?’ askit Benjie.
‘Come away then,’ answered Tammie, ‘and ye’ll hear him gie a yowl, and commence gabbling like a goose.’
As all this was going on, I rose and took a vizzy between the chinks of the window-shutters; so, just as I got my neb to the hole, I saw Benjie, as he flew past, give the door a drive. His consternation, on finding it flee half open, may be easier imagined than described, for, expecting the Frenchman to bounce out like a roaring lion, they hurried like mad into the house, couping the creels ower ane anither, Tammie spraining his thumb against the back door, and Benjie’s foot going into Tammie’s coat pocket, which it carried away with it, like a cloth sandal; what became o’ the French vagrant is a matter o’ surmise,—nae mortal kens.
FINIS.
THE
WHOLE PROCEEDINGS
OF
JOCKY AND MAGGY’S
COURTSHIP,
WITH
THE GREAT DIVERSION THAT ENSUED AT THEIR BEDDING.
IN THREE PARTS.
GLASGOW:
PRINTED FOR THE BOOKSELLERS.