'There's naething but a wheen parritch gane down my craig this day, mem, an' I'm wae 'at ye suld think sae ill o' me,' said Joseph, feeling his way back into the usual sanctimonious groove. 'I'm no' weel, mem, an' I'm juist fear'd I'm no' lang for this world, an' that's what's brocht me here this day. I cam seekin' a word o' ye, mem!'
'Then follow me, Joseph.'
Joseph followed, and laid before Mrs. Sangster the statement of his hopes and desires. 'I'm no' lang for this warld, mem, an' gin I cud do some gude first I wad be mair contented like, but they wad need to double the steepend, mem. I cudna gang for less.'
'If you are going to die so soon, Joseph, I should think the temporal reward would be of little consequence to you.'
'Ou ay, mem! But ye ken the labourer is worthy of his hire.'
'I should doubt your ability for the work, Joseph; and at any rate you must wait till your giddiness is cured. A giddy catechist, to judge from the scene in my kitchen to-day, might give rise to serious scandals! I know a person who will exactly suit Mr. Geddie, if the salary can be made sufficient; and I am much obliged to you, Joseph, for having brought me the information. You may rest assured too, Joseph, that if you will but do your duty with all your might, in the circumstances in which Providence has placed you, you are making the very best preparation for the great change which, sooner or later, will overtake us all.' And with this moral sentiment still ringing in his ears, Joseph found himself dismissed and on the gravel in front of the house, not only a disappointed, but an utterly discomfited man. He retraced his steps to the village, and went back to his joiner-work thinking how little good had come to him out of his idle morning.
CHAPTER XXXIV.
["WOOED AN' MARRIED AN' A'."]
Joseph Smiley lived in a small cottage all by himself. It was not on the main street, but built in what should have been the back yard of a house on that thoroughfare, and was approached by a narrow passage round the end of the house in front. It was just the place for any one who desired retirement, being extremely private, which, strangely enough, seems the great desideratum of all inquisitive people. Joseph was extremely expert in spelling out the affairs of his neighbours from external signs, and it may have been owing to that, that he kept his own life so studiously in the shade, knowing so well how much may be divined from passing glimpses. He spoke of his home as 'juist the bit placey whaur he bed,' 'weel eneugh for a quiet lanesome chield like himsel', but no' fit to tak folk til,' which was scarcely doing it justice, seeing that it was perhaps the snuggest little cabin in the village; for Joseph was a Sybarite according to his lights. It was the best feather bed in the village on which he took his nightly rest, and there was a comfortably cushioned chair or two in which he might repose during the day. The cupboard contained pickles, spices, and a good many bottles; for his fare was dainty, and far different from the vigorous parritch on which he professed to subsist. Parritch may be said to have been the food of his imagination, for he continually spoke of it, but it was with something considerably more succulent that he nourished his material frame.
Yet Joseph enjoyed a high reputation for saving thrift.