CHAPTER XVII.—MY FIRST AND LAST PLAY.
Pla. I’ faith
I like the audience that frequenteth there
With much applause: a man shall not be chokt
With the stench of garlick, nor be pasted firm
To the barmy jacket of a beer-brewer.
Bra. ’Tis a good gentle audience, and I hope
The boys will come one day in great request.Jack Drum’s Entertainment. 1601.
Out cam the gudeman, and laigh he louted;
Out cam the gudewife, and heigh she shouted;
And a the toun-neibours gather’d about it;
And there he lay, I trow.The Cauldrife Wooer.
The time of Tammie Bodkin’s apprenticeship being nearly worn through, it behoved me, as a man attentive to business, and the interests of my family, to cast my eyes around me in search of a callant to fill his place; as it is customary in our trade for young men, when their time is out, taking a year’s journeymanship in Edinburgh, to perfect them in the more intricate branches of the business, and learn the newest manner of the French and London fashions, by cutting cloth for the young advocates, the college
students, the banking-house clerks, the half-pay ensigns, and the rest of the principal tip-top bucks.
Having, though I say it myself, the word of being a canny maister, more than one brought their callants to me, on reading the bill of “An apprentice wanted,” pasted on my shop-window.
Offering to bind them for the regular time, yet not wishing to take but one, I thought best not to fix in a hurry, and make choice of him that seemed more exactly cut out for my purpose. In the course of a few weeks three or four cast up, among whom was a laddie of Ben Aits the mealmonger, and a son of William Burlings the baker; to say little of the callant of Saunders Broom the sweep, that would fain have put his blackit-looking bit creature with the one eye and the wooden leg under my wing; but I aye looked to respectability in these matters; so glad was I when I got the offer of Mungo Glen.—But more of this in half a minute.
I must say I was glad of any feasible excuse to make to the sweep, to get quit of him and his laddie, the father being a drucken ne’er-do weel, that I wonder did not fall long ere this time of day from some chimney-head, and get his neck broken. So I told him at long and last, when he came papping into my shop, plaguing me every time he passed, that I had fitted myself; and that there would be no need of his taking the trouble to call again. Upon which he gave his blacked nieve a desperate thump on the counter, making the observation, that out of respect for him I might have given his son the preference. Though I was a wee puzzled for an answer, I said to him for want of a better, that having a timber leg, he could not well creuk his hough to the shop-board for our trade.
“Hout, touts,” said Saunders, giving his lips a smack—“Creuk his hough, ye body you! Do you think his timber leg canna screw off?—That’ll no pass.”
I was a little dumfoundered at this cleverness. So I said, more on my guard—“True, true, Saunders, but he’s ower little.”
“Ower little, and be hanged to ye!” cried the disrespectful follow, wheeling about on his heel, as he grasped the sneck of the shop-door, and gave a girn that showed the only clean parts