"Gin I thought I were to win her mysel," said Tam, "and win away wi' life out o' this luckless place, I wad do a good deal for her; but if I trowed ony o' you were to get her frae me—I'll no tell you how I feel."
"Just as a hungry man should feel," said Gibbie; "and as ane wha has starvation afore his een maun feel. It is e'en a sair trial, and often brings me a-mind o' the story of Marion Gib's callant."
Master Michael Scott, thinking that, in right of seniority, the Laird was now about to begin his trial story for life or death, made a signal with his hand for his guests to compose themselves, which they did with one consent; while Gibbie, pleased with the mark of deference shown to him, went on:—
Laird of Peatstacknowe's Tale.
There wad aiblins nane o' you ken Marion. She lived i' the Dod-Shiel; and had a callant to the lang piper, him that Squire Ridley's man beat at the Peel-hill meeting. Weel, you see, he was a gilliegaupy of a callant, gayan like the dad o' him; for Marion said he wad hae eaten a horse ahint the saddle; and as her shieling wasna unco weel stored o' meat, she had ill getting him mainteened; till at the lang and the last it just came to this pass, that whenever Jock was i' the house, it was a constant battle atween Marion and him. Jock fought to be at meat, and Marion to keep him frae it, and mony hard clouts and claws there past. They wad hae foughten about a haggis, or a new kirning o' butter, for a hale hour, and the battle generally endit in Jock's getting a', or a good shareo' ilka thing. (I wish we had sic things here, even though we had to fight for them!) When he had fairly gained the possession, by whatever means, he feasted with the greatest satisfaction, licking his large ruddy lips, and looking all about him with eyes of the utmost benevolence. Marion railed all the while that the poor lad was enjoying himself, without any mercy and restraint, and there wasna a vile name under the sun that had ony signification of a glutton in it, that she didna ca' him by. Jock took the bite wi' the buffet;—he heard a' the ill names, and munched away. Oh, how his heart did rejoice o'er a fat lunch o' beef, a good haggis, or even a cog o' milk brose! Poor fellow! such things were his joy and delight. So he snapped them up, and in two or three hours after he was as ready for another battle as ever.
This was a terrible life to lead. Times grew aye the langer the waur; and Marion was obliged to hire poor Jock to Goodman Niddery, to herd his kye and his pet sheep. Jock had nae thoughts at a' o' ganging to sic a job at first; but Marion tauld him ilka day o' the fat beef, the huge kebbucks, and the parridge sae thick that a horn-spoon wadna delve into them, till he grew impatient for the term day. That day came at length, and Marion went away hame wi' her son to introduce him. The road was gayan lang, and Jock's crappin began to craw. He speered a hunder times about the meat at Goodman Niddery's house, and every answer that Marion gae was better than the last, till Jock believed he was gaun home to a continual feast. It was a delightful thought, for the craving appetite within him was come to a great height. They reached the place, and went into the kitchen. Jock's een were instantly on the look-out; but they didna need to range far. Above the fire there hung two sides of bacon more than three inches deep of fat, besides many other meaner objects: The hind legs of bullocks, sheep, and deer, were also there; but these were withered, black, and sapless in appearance. Jock thought the very substance was dried out o' them. But the bacon! How it did make Jock smack his lips! It was so juicy that even the brown bristly skin on the outside of it was all standing thick o' eenbright beaming drops like morning dew. Jock was established at Goodman Niddery's; he would not have flitted again and left these two sides of bacon hanging there for an estate. Marion perceived well where the sum of his desires was fixed, and trembled for fear of an instant attack: Well might she; for Jock had a large dirk or sheathed knife (a very useful weapon) that he wore, and that he took twice out of its place, looked at its edge, and then at the enormous bacon ham, which was more than three inches deep of solid fat, with the rich drops of juice standing upon the skin. Jock drew his knife on his sandal, then on the edge of a wooden table that stood beside him, examined the weapon's edge again, and again fixed his green eyes on the bacon. "What do the people mean," thought he to himself, "that they do not instantly slice down a portion of that glorious meat, and fry it on the coals? Would they but give me orders to do it,—would they even give me the least hint, how slashingly I would obey!"
None of them had the good sense to give Jock ony sic orders. He was two or three times on the very point of helping himself, and at last got up on his feet, it was believed, for the sole purpose of making an attack on the bacon ham, when, behold, in came Goodman Niddery.
"There's your master, sirrah!" whispered Marion, "haste ye and whup aff your bonnet."
Jock looked at him. There was something very severe and forbidding in his countenance; so Jock's courage failed him, and he even took aff his bonnet, and sat down with that in his one hand and the drawn knife in the other. Marion's heart was greatly relieved, and she now ventured on a little conversation:
"I hae brought you hame my lad, Goodman, and I hope he'll be a good servant to you."