Will was a sort of half-privileged haunter of Eglinton Castle and grounds, and knew the Earl very well. Discovering him crossing a fence one day preparatory to making a “short cut” towards some point in the demesne, the Earl called out, “Come back, sir; that is not the road.”
“Do you ken,” asked Will, “whaur I’m gaun?”
“No,” replied his Lordship.
“Weel, hoo the deil do you ken whether this be the road or no?” and having said so, away he went.
The Earl called out, “Come back, sir: that is not the road.” “Do you ken,” asked Will, “whaur I’m gaun?” “No,” replied his Lordship. “Weel, hoo the deil do ye ken whether this be the road or no?”—[Page 383.]
Entering the house of a clergyman in Beith, famed as a skilful performer on the violin, and hearing the minister playing on the fiddle, Will began to dance, and continued in his own unmeasured style till the clergyman was fairly tired. The practical commentator on catgut then handed Will a shilling. “Hech,” said Will, “this world’s uncoly changed, for in my young days it was the dancers that aye pay’d the fiddler.”
Passing along the road by the side of the minister’s glebe one morning, whilst haymaking was in progress, the minister asked Will if he thought the weather would keep up, as it looked rather like rain.
“Weel,” says Will, “I canna be sure sae early in the day, but I’ll be passin’ this way the nicht again, an’ I’ll ca’ in and tell ye.”