“Harvey,” said Kenneth with enthusiasm, “is one of Nature’s noblemen.
“‘Away with false fashion, so calm and so chill,
Where pleasure itself cannot please;
Away with cold breeding, that faithlessly still
Affects to be quite at its ease.
For the deepest in feeling is highest in rank,
The freest is first of the band:
And Nature’s own nobleman, friendly and frank,
Is the man with his heart in his hand.’”
“Come, I say, Kennie, my learned old man, when you are talking poetry, and such ringing verses, too, as these, I dare say you imagine I must sing small; but bide a wee, lad, there is two of us can play at the same game. What say you if I match Burns against your Tupper? Hear then.”
And, with figure and head erect, with arms extended and open palm, Archie spoke,—
“Is there for honest poverty,
That hangs his head and a’ that?
The coward-slave, we pass him by,
And dare be poor for a’ that.
What though on homely fare we dine,
Wear hodden-grey (coarse, woollen, undyed cloth) and a’ that,
Give fools their silks, and knaves their wine,
A man’s a man for a’ that.
“A prince can make a belted knight,
A marquis, duke and a’ that;
But an honest man’s above his might,
Guid faith he mauna fa’ that. (Try.)
Then let us pray that come it may,
As come it will for a’ that,
That sense and worth o’er a’ the earth,
May bear the gree for a’ that.”
(Bear the gree, i.e., be triumphant.)
“Bravo! Archie, lad. Glad to see that you haven’t forgotten your Scotch, though we’ve talked little but English for many a long day.
“Ah! well,” he continued, after a pause, “I was just thinking, Archie, how kind Providence has been to us.”
“But mind you, Kenneth, we’ve worked hard.”