"Weel, I'm through wi' ye. I've dune a' that I can for ye; and if ye gang to the bad, it's yer ain faut. But ye'll no eat the bread o' idleness here. If ye wunna learn ye maun work. Ye maun gang and herd the sheep in the Back Park."
And now was this little fellow made to suffer for his sin. His life must have been very like that of an excommunicated one in the Catholic times. His own father would not speak to him, and would not permit him either to attend church or family worship. The neighbours stared and shook their heads when he passed. His former school-fellows must have been told to avoid him, for they never came near him. The only sympathy he got, if it could be called sympathy, was from "auld Wull Crabbie," the stone-breaker, who plied his hammer near the entrance to the village. This wayside philosopher, shaggy-browed keen-eyed, hook-nosed, perched upon a seat made of an upright stone with a bunch of straw on the top of it, knapped away at the "bing" before him; and in the intervals of labour watched all that was going on. From every stranger that passed he levied some bit of information, and to every acquaintance that came near he imparted some sarcastic comment. In fact, he was a cynic, a true follower of Diogenes, scorning the luxuries which never came to him, and finding his true luxury in criticising severely the failings of his fellow-creatures.
One morning when Willie was passing, Wull, fixing his ferret-like eyes upon him, said, "And sae, laddie, ye were bold enough to ca' auld Sloan a leer. Ye stupid shaver, dae ye no ken that dominies and ministers never tell lees. They're perfeck. Did ye ever hear them confess that they were ever wrang? Na! Dod I come to think that they must have been present at the creation, and that they brocht awa wi' them the Mawker's plans, and hae packed them a' into the twa buirds o' the Confession o' Faith. But, toots, what am I sayin'? I'm jist haverin'. Wha am I, to sit in judgment upon men o' that kind? It's aye best to be ceevil, as the auld wife said when she bobbit to the deevil;" and with that he made a fierce blow at a stone and said no more.
For several months Willie continued to be a herd-boy. It was thought a degradation by his father; but he himself felt it to be the reverse. After the bondage and oppression of Sloan's school, what an unspeakable relief it was! He had now the freedom—a freedom which should be the birthright of every young creature—to wander about over the green earth and under the blue sky, to drink in the fresh air and sunshine, to notice all the beauties of beast, and bird, and flower, and to share in the general banquet of joy provided by nature. And another pleasure altogether unexpected awaited him.
One Sunday morning, as he was setting out for the Back Park, his mother said to him that, as it was the Sabbath day, he should take his Bible with him and read it as he herded the sheep. To please her, although the method of his education had given him unpleasant associations connected with the Book, he put it in his pocket; and in the afternoon, as he lay on the grass in a listless mood, he took it out and opened it. Now, it chanced that the passage which caught his eye was the history of Abraham, and before he was almost aware, he was reading it attentively. He could not master some of the hard names and allusions; but he knew enough to understand and appreciate the narrative. Here was a discovery: The Bible, after all, was not a collection of hard names and difficult passages fitted only to puzzle and torment school children. It was a delightful story-book. So he continued to read it day after day. Surrounded as he was with pastoral associations, he dwelt with especial delight on the pastoral scenes in Genesis. In fact, he was never tired of reading them. What a wonderful magic lies in a book which enabled this Scottish shepherd lad in the nineteenth century to enter into the lives and feelings of those primitive shepherd kings of the East! In his own little way he fancied he saw them and heard them speak. He often found himself placing the scenes of the principal events in the pastures that lay before him. For instance, a large beech standing by itself was the tree under which Abraham pitched his tent; a pleasant meadow in the distance was the field where Isaac was meditating at the eventide, when "he lifted up his eyes and saw, and behold, the camels were coming;" and the watering-place at the foot of the Back Park was the well where "Jacob kissed Rachel, and lifted up his voice and wept." This was literally bringing ancient history home to him.
When the winter was coming on, Willie's mother saw that something must be done for his education. Now, there was in Sandyriggs another school of much higher standing than Sloan's, and the master of it, Mr Fairful, was college-bred, and had the very highest character for intelligence and Christian philanthropy. She, therefore, resolved to apply to him. He was very likely, she thought, to refuse to take her scapegrace, through fear of his contaminating the other children; but at any rate she must do something for the boy. So, one morning, with Willie in her hand, she knocked at the door of the school and asked to see the master. When he came out, he looked so frank, genial, and kind, that she had no hesitation in telling him all about her child.
"I know all about the case," he said. "No doubt the lad was wrong; but those that provoked him were still more to blame. There are certain religious questions so mysterious that they should never be handled, especially before the young. What we have got to do, is to set people on the right road in this world: we should never attempt to fix their everlasting destiny in the next." Then, taking Willie by the hand, and looking at him kindly, he added: "I'll be happy to receive him, and do what I can for him." Mrs Torrance thanked him warmly, and went away very much relieved.
As time passed on, Mrs Torrance fancied that she saw a change for the better in Willie. He became tidier, and was more particular in washing his face and hands and brushing his hair; and on Sabbath evenings he was often seen reading the Bible. But, on the other hand, very little time seemed to be devoted by him to the preparation of his lessons. On the long winter nights he was usually engrossed with a book, entitled "Natural History of Beasts, Birds, and Fishes," poring over its pages, and copying on paper its pictures of animals; and when the lightsome evenings of spring came, he was almost always out of doors, playing with the tenants of the farmyard, or roving through the woods in search of nests. His big brother, in that masterful tone generally assumed by big brothers, often asked him, "Hoo are ye gettin' on at the schule?" But the invariable answer was "fine." "What dae ye mean by fine?" the brother demanded. "Ou, jist fine," was all the reply.
At length came the time when the school year was to be closed with the public examination. It was a great event; for not only were the pupils to be examined in presence of the public, but the prizes were to be decided on the spot by the voices of the scholars themselves. This method, though common enough in those days, seems to us rough and ready, and apt to lead to favouritism. Yet it seldom failed to arrive at the right decision. The fact was, that the best pupils generally stood out unmistakably; and when there was any doubtful case, the teacher had ways and means of turning opinion in the right direction.
The parents were respectfully invited to be present at this ceremony. Mrs Torrance resolved to go; but it was with fear and trembling. She was afraid that Willie would fail in his examination, and bring disgrace upon her before the public. He was such a queer laddie, and had never brought them anything like credit. And when she went into the schoolroom, and saw the company assembled, her feeling rose to alarm. There were the laird's wife, Mrs Campion, and the parish minister's sister, Miss MacGuffog, and the wife of the principal grocer and of the principal baker, Mrs Figgins and Mrs Cook, and many others. There were several ministers, black-coated, white-necktied, solemn-faced. Above all there was the Rev. Mr MacGuffog, who had denounced Willie from the pulpit. Oh, what a countenance he had, self-denying and holy without doubt, but oh, so hard and so devoid of ordinary sympathy! There was no saying what this fanatical man might think it his duty to do. He might seize this opportunity of catechising her son and exposing his deficiencies before the assembled company.