Such a lot of people came to see Mr. Mouncey. Some wished to see Miss Mouncey particularly, and some she wanted to avoid. She only laughed. She was 22 years of age, fair, and accomplished, without a touch of vanity, and with the sweet name of Mary. The youngest child went to school. They liked to tell me of the good times we would have when we went to the Island of Arran, where they spent the summer months. We had family worship night and morning. By that time reading was no effort to me. I could read writing and write a little, with the aid of Miss Mouncey.
I brought a canary songbird from Slamannan to Mrs. Reily. I had no cage, but I had a strong paper-bag, and cut some tiny holes in it for air. I knew she had a cage, so I went one evening to see her and to learn how the bird was getting on. The doctor opened the door, and did not speak. He led me into a room, and there, in a coffin, lay Mrs. Reily. I flung myself on my knees beside her and cried bitterly. The doctor stood by and said, "Weep, girl, weep, for that is the first tear I have seen shed for my wife." He told me that her father, mother, and sister had come only to see what of her jewellery they could take and then they went away. He sent for the nurse, and I saw a little baby girl, which he said was all he had left. He had a good practice, and was growing rich, and, as he stood there with bent head, he looked sad and cheerless, but young and handsome. Such is the inevitable! I saw the little bird that I gave her; it was hanging in the window of the same room. My heart was full of compassion, as I remembered the beautiful face of that young wife. She was only 20 years of age. All must have courage to submit to their own destiny.
ABRAHAM LINCOLN.
Preparations for going away for the summer were hurried on, and there seemed more visitors than usual. I was pleased at the idea of going to the Island of Arran, which had many attractions for visitors, I longed to see the place, having heard so much about its hills and mountains. Miss Heslip, a young friend of Miss Mouncey's, was with them for the summer. From that day things were pleasing and mirthful. One evening, while I was passing the cake-basket in the drawing-room, I held the cake to a tall and dark gentleman. In place of taking some cake he took hold of my hand and shook it warmly. I was not used to shaking hands with people in the drawing-room. I felt so confused that I nearly let the basket and cake fall. I could see that the act was noticed by the smiles on the faces. I knew that Garibaldi was in the room, for I had seen him there before, but who could this be? When Miss Mouncey came out I asked her, and she told me I had shaken hands with a great man. He was the President of America, Abraham Lincoln. She told me then that there was going to be a civil war. I did not know what that was.
THE ISLE OF ARRAN.
It was so delightful to see Iona again. We left in the morning and called at so many places. There seemed quite a crowd, and such beautiful scenery. We arrived in the afternoon at Lamlash. There was someone to take the luggage, and we walked by the sea. The name of the house was Oakbank, and it was right on the top of a hill, with steps leading down to the boating-house, and there we could see the house-boat. The boat was called Oakbank, too. The house seemed small after Glasgow, with its little green gate, but the people only wanted somewhere to sleep. We lived outside, either on the water or on the mountains, there being plenty of caves as well. It was the month of June. The people who belonged to the house lived on the place in some way for the time. We could get milk and butter and eggs and poultry from them, but all the rest of the provisions came from the city, and the lovely fish they could get themselves in plenty. What a different life for the people who lived there when compared to that I had seen in the city. Whether they took me with them or not I had very little to do, there being a lot of people on the island known to each other. They would go off in the morning and take provisions with them, and I would not see them again till dark. Very often they took me as well. I could climb on my hands and feet, and did not trouble if I rolled down, so long as the sea was not immediately underneath me. How the people lived has often puzzled me more since than it did at the time.
It seemed that the whole, or nearly all, the island belonged to the Duke of Hamilton, and he was said to be eccentric. He would not let people make any alteration, but wished every place to remain in its wild state. It was known that coal could be got there in any quantity, but they dare not dig to get it. Some of the old people, with whom I liked to talk, told me that they were born on the island, and had never been out of it, even to cross the Clyde, and they hoped to die there. Only in summertime, when visitors were there, they spoke in English. To each other they spoke in Gaelic. The language was very strange to listen to, and more so when they made blunders, for one must laugh. The church was at Brodic, and it was quite two miles and a half to walk there. The minister preached in the morning in Gaelic, and it was good to see the old men and women coming over the hills to hear this Gaelic. I went one Sunday with the people of the house to hear the preaching. The minister was Mr. Davis, and he did look so cross, and railed at the dear creatures, who had come six and seven miles to hear him. I used to like to hear some of the old stories about the place.
It interested me when they told me that the deep valleys we were then passing would be filled up with snow in the winter months, and they showed me places here and there where some poor shepherd had perished in the snow, while he was looking for his sheep. They also said that for many months in the year they could not go to see anyone, and no one could come and see them because of the snow. There were no roads, but only footpaths on top of the hill or at the bottom. On seeing the place one could understand what it would be like after a heavy fall of snow. Then it would roll down from the mountains. The habits of those people were plain and without art. They let their houses in the summer, and that brought them a little money. They had little patches of land on which they grew flax and all sorts of things. It was rare to see a ploughed field between Lamlash and Brodic. The Duke of Hamilton's palace was at Brodic. It looked a grand place. He need not stop shut in it all the winter, however, for he had other places. Then the people had to make provision for the winter. They killed a sheep, and had it dried in some way. I saw some of it. They called it braxxie. Then there was the fish, also dried, in plenty. They made cheese and they had bacon. Those who were too far back from the sea had to have stores inside their homes. From Oakbank one could clear away the snow from the steps and get to the ships in a small boat, but none of the steamers could come near, although they would come as close as they dare in the rough weather. We counted as many as fourteen one morning, after a stormy night. There were all sorts, some being good-sized sailing vessels and yachts.