“Aweel, aweel!” cried old Rose impatiently, “as I was gaein’ to say, we’s just owerlook a’ thae things, an’ souther up a’ oonkindness that may hae been atween us, an’ sae we’ll mak’ the best o’t, an’ hae your laddie an’ my lassie buckled thegither as soon as the minister can mak’ them ane. Come, man, gie’s your hand on’t!”
“Wi’ a’ my heart!” replied Harry Stuart, with a good-natured chuckle; “an’ I’ll tell ye what it is, Carl, maybe ye’ll find after a’ that the son o’ Harry the herd o’ the Limekilns is no just sae bare a bargain as ye wad hae yemagined. The herdin’ trade gif it maks little it spends less; an’ I hae na been at it for better nor fifety years without layin’ by a wee bit pose o’ my ain; an’ gif a gude bien bit hill farmie can be gotten for the twa, I’se no say but I may come doon wi’ as muckle as may buy the best end o’ the plenishen an’ stockin’.”
“That’s my hearty cock!” exclaimed old Rose, slapping Harry soundly on the back. “Mary, my dauty! I was sae muckle the better o’ the wee drap ye gied me yon time, that I think neither Harry nor me wad be the waur o’ anither tasse.”
It would be yequally vain and unnecessar, gentlemen, for me to attempt to describe the happiness of the two lovers, or the general joy of that night. If Homer or Maro were alive, and here present, they would fail to do justice to such a theme. I may shortly conclude by simply telling you, however, that Mysie’s slumbers were rudely broken by the stentorian voice of her master,—that she was speedily put to work at her yespecial occupation in the kitchen,—that the rustic feast was quickly spread,—that the bowl circulated, or, rather, to speak with a due regard to fack, that it passed backwards and forwards very frequently from lip to lip of the two thirsty seniors,—that the young couple were in Elysium,—that the old men were garrulously joyous,—that Mysie was frantic, and danced about like a daft woman, and that the sun peeped in upon them from the distant eastern hills ere they even began to think of terminating their revels.
DOMINIE DELIGHTED.
Grant.—Why, sir, you are quite as great as a story-teller as you are as a critic.
Clifford.—Homer or Maro could never have held a candle to you! Why your floating island would beat a steamer. But, joking apart, we are really much obliged to you for the very interesting story you have told us.
Dominie (bowing).—I am yespecially proud and happy that you are pleased with it, sir.
Author.—We are all very much indebted to you indeed, for you have helped us very agreeably over the most dreary part of our road.