CHAPTER VII.
THE MOTHER’S STORY.
‘When my gudeman died, I was left wi’ twa bairns, a boy an’ a girl. We had six in family, but Willie and Mary were a’ the Lord was pleased to leave wi’ us. It was by dint o’ hard wark that I could keep them in meat an’ claes, an’ gi’e them schoolin’; but they were guid bairns, an’ when Willie cam in frae his school, an’ sat down by my wheel side, an’ asked me to let him read the bonny lesson for me that he had learned out o’ that Bible, I cou’dna been happier if I had been possessed o’ a’ Glasgow. They baith grew up fond o’ me, an’ fond o’ ane anither, an’ Willie improved sae much in his education that I got him engaged in a warehouse as a clerk, where he gied great satisfaction to his master; and when he cam hame at night, instead of spending his time like idle, glaiket creatures o’ his ain age, he wou’d sit an’ read for his sister an’ me, or else be busy at his drawing, or sometimes he would play the flute, while Mary sang, and I wad sit wi’ my heart at my mouth wi’ perfect joy. Oh! thae were happy days—little did I then think that I wad now be sittin’ mournin’ the loss o’ a’ that I thocht worth livin’ for. Yet I had a mistrust about me, that I was owre happy for ’t to last lang; but oh I didna think I was to drink the cup o’ affliction sae deep as I hae done.’
The old woman’s feelings here became uncontrollable, and the tears trickled down her furrowed cheeks in quick succession; but, recovering herself in a few minutes, she clasped her hands, and, looking up to Heaven with pious resignation, she said, ‘“Thy will be done,”—“The Lord gave, and the Lord taketh away, blessed be the name of the Lord,”—I hope I’ll soon meet wi’ them, where we’ll ne’er part again.’
She continued:—‘Willie had been about three years in the warehouse, an’ his maister had such a respect for him, that he gied Mary an’ me as much sewing as we cou’d do at hame.
‘It was about this time that we got neebors in the house but an’ ben wi’ us,—kind an’ sober fo’k they were, an’ we were unco freendly wi’ ane anither. They had ae dochter that their hearts were bund up in, owre muckle bund up for her gude. She was as bonny a lassie as ye cou’d hae seen in a day’s walkin’, an’ free an’ light-hearted; but she was sae much dawted by her faither an’ mother, an’ her beauty sae roosed by ither fo’k, that stronger heads than her’s micht been turn’d wi’t.
‘For company’s sake she used to come in an’ sit wi’ her wark beside Mary, an’ they turn’d unco fond o’ ane anither, an’ at nicht when Willie cam hame, they wad sing while he play’d the flute; an’ at length we seemed just like ae family.
‘In a short time I cou’d see that Willie was mair ta’en up wi’ Jessie, an’ she wi’ him, than I cou’d hae wished; if she happened no to be in when he cam hame, he was dowie an’ restless, an’ cou’dna content himsel’ at his books or his drawin’ the way he used to do. I was vexed to see this for twa or three reasons: in the first place, they were owre young to think on marryin’; an’ in the next, she wasna the kind o’ woman I wad hae wished Willie for a wife. She was owre fond o’ dress, an’ folk admiring her, to suit his sober, douce temper; an’ I saw that it wad be a sair struggle for his heart. But as what was done cou’dna be mended, I resolved to lippen to Providence, hoping that every thing wad turn out for the best. They now began to meet out o’ the house, an’ the langer they were acquainted, I could see that Willie’s heart was the deeper in love; but Jessie didna seem to keep up wi’ him in that respect. She had owre great a likin’ for hersel’ to spare much to him; her affection for him raise an’ sank wi’ every turn o’ her flighty head,—ae day she wad be dyin’ wi’ kindness about him because he had on some dress that took her fancy, an’ she wad parade wi’ him round the town; anither time she wad refuse to walk wi’ him, because his hat or his napkin wasna in the fashion. I often wondered that Willie put up wi’ a’ her fancies; for he wasna easy imposed on wi’ other folk, but wi’ her he seemed as if he was bewitched.
THE COQUET.
‘About this time, Jessie, wha had been at a dancing-school, was to be at a practisin’ ball, an’ gied Willie an’ Mary tickets. Puir things, nane o’ them had ever learned to dance, for besides no being very sure aboot the propriety o’ the thing, I thought that dancing wasna very necessar’ in their station o’ life; but their curiosity had been raised sae much wi’ Jessie’s description, that they were keen to gang, and although I wad been better pleased that they had staid at hame, they had aye been sae guid that I couldna think to deny them.