The boys were first put into the heckling shop. They were next transferred to a small mill at the end of the larger one. Young Edward worked there. His business was to attend at the back of a braker,—to take away the cases when they were full, and put empty ones in their places. He was next set to attend two carding-machines; and from these to the roving or spinning side, three of which he frequently kept before he left. This was the highest work done in that room.
“People may say of factories what they please,” says Edward, “but I liked this factory. It was a happy time for me whilst I remained there. It was situated in the centre of a beautiful valley, almost embowered amongst tall and luxuriant hedges of hawthorn, with watercourses and shadowy trees between, and large woods and plantations beyond. It teemed with nature and natural objects. The woods were easy of access during our meal-hours. What lots of nests! What insects, wild flowers, and plants, the like of which I had never seen before! Prominent amongst the birds was the Sedge Warbler,[18] which lay concealed in the reedy copses, or by the margin of the mill-lades. Oh! how I wondered at the little thing; how it contrived to imitate almost all the other birds I had ever heard, and none to greater perfection than the chirrup of my old and special favourite the sparrow.”
THE KINGFISHER.
One day he saw a Kingfisher—a great event in his life! What a beautiful bird! What a sparkling gem of nature! Resplendent in plumage and gorgeous in colour—from the bright turquoise blue to the deepest green, and the darker shades of copper and gold. Edward was on a nesting excursion, with some little fellows like himself, along the braes of the Don, and at some distance above the Auld Brig, when he first saw this lustrous bird. “I was greatly taken,” he says, “with its extraordinary beauty, and much excited by seeing it dive into the stream. I thought it would drown itself, and that its feathers would eventually become so clogged with water that it would not be able to fly. Had this happened—which, of course, it did not—my intention was to have plunged in to the rescue, when, as a matter of course, I would have claimed the prize as my reward. Thus buoyed up, I wandered up and down the river after the bird, until the shades of even came down and forced me to give up the pursuit; and I then discovered, having continued the chase so long, that I was companionless, and had to return home alone.
COUNTRY RAMBLES.
“It so happened, that for a month or two during summer-time, owing to the scarcity of water, one part of the factory worked during the night-time and the other during the day-time, week and week about. This was a glorious time for me. I rejoiced particularly in the night work. We got out at six in the morning, and, instead of going directly home, I used to go up to the woods of Scotston and Scotston Moor, scoured the country round them, and then returned home by the Auld Brig. Another day I would go up to Buxburn, range the woods and places about them, and then home by Hilton or Woodside. Or again, after having crossed Grandholm Bridge, instead of going up by Lausie Hillock, I went away down Don side, by Tillydrone, the Aulten (Old Aberdeen), through the fields to the Aulten links, whipped the whins there, then over the Broad hill, and home by Constitution Street. I would reach it, perhaps, about dinner-time, instead of at seven in the morning, although I had to be back at the mill again by eight o’clock at night.
“Once, on a Saturday, after having visited Buxburn, I went round by the back of the Dancing Cairns to the Stocket and the woods of Hazelhead, then down the Rubislaw road, and home in the evening. Ah! these were happy days. There were no taws to fear, and no tyrannical dominie to lay them on. True, the farm people did halloo at me at times, but I generally showed them a clean pair of heels. The gamekeepers, also, sometimes gave me chase, but I managed to outstrip them; and although no nests were to be got, there was always something to be found or seen. In winter-time, also, when the canal was frozen, a mile of it lay in our way home, and it was capital fun to slide along, going to and coming from our work. This was life, genuine life, for the young. But, alas! a sad change was about to come; and it came very soon.”
APPRENTICED TO A SHOEMAKER.
The boys remained at Grandholm factory for about two years. Their father thought that they ought both to be apprenticed to some settled trade. The eldest boy left first, and was apprenticed to a baker; then Tom, the youngest, left, very much to his regret, and was bound apprentice to a shoemaker. He was eleven years old at that time. His apprenticeship was to last for six years. His wages began at eighteenpence a week, with sixpence to be added weekly in each succeeding year. He was to be provided by his master with shoes and aprons. The hours were to be from six in the morning to nine at night,—two hours being allowed for meals.