"Becky, Becky," she exclaimed, in a tone of lofty indignation—and thus summoning to her presence, from an adjoining apartment, her daughter, a little girl of about ten years of age—"rin owre dereckly to Lucky Anderson's and tell her to give me my jeely can immediately." And Mrs. Callender stamped her foot, grew red in the face, and exhibited sundry other symptoms of towering passion. Becky instantly obeyed the order so peremptorily given; and, while she is doing so, we may throw in a digressive word or two, by the way of more fully enlightening the reader regarding the turn which matters seemed now about to take. Be it known to him, then, that the demand for the jelly pot, which was now about to be made on Mrs. Anderson, was not a bona fide proceeding. It was not made in good faith; for Mrs. Callender knew well, and had been told so fifty times, that the said jelly pot was no longer in existence as a jelly pot; and moreover, she had been, as often as she was told this, offered full compensation, which might be about three farthings sterling money of this realm, for the demolished commodity. Moreover, again, it was three years since it had been borrowed. From all this, the reader will at once perceive, what was the fact, that the sending for the said jelly pot, on the present occasion, and in the way described, was a mere breaking of ground previous to the performance of some other contemplated operations. It was, in truth, entirely a tactical proceeding—a dexterously and ingeniously laid pretext for a certain intended measure which could not decently have stood on its own simple merits. In proof of this, we need only state, that it is beyond all question that nothing could have disappointed Mrs. Callender more than the return of the desiderated jelly pot. But this, she knew, she had not to fear, and the result showed that she was right. The girl shortly came back with the usual reply—that the pot was broken; but that Mrs. Anderson would cheerfully pay the value of it, if Mrs. Callender would say what that was. To the inexpressible satisfaction of the latter, however, the message, on this occasion, was accompanied by some impertinences which no woman of spirit could tamely submit to. She was told, for instance, that "she made mair noise aboot her paltry, dirty jelly mug, a thousand times, than it was a' worth," and was ironically, and, we may add, insultingly entreated, "for ony sake to mak nae mair wark aboot it, and a dizzen wad be sent her for't."
"My troth, and there's a stock o' impidence for ye!" said Mrs. Callender, on her little daughter having delivered herself of all the small provocatives with which she had been charged. "There's impidence for ye!" she said, planting her hands in her sides, and looking the very personification of injured innocence. "Was the like o't ever heard? First to borrow, and then to break my jeely mug, and noo to tell me, whan I'm seekin my ain, that I'm makin mair noise aboot it than it's a' worth! My certy, but she has a brazen face. The auld wizzened, upsettin limmer that she is. Set them up, indeed wi' red nicht-caps." Now, this was the last member of Mrs. Callender's philippic, but it was by no means the least. In fact, it was the whole gist of the matter—the sum and substance, and, we need not add, the real and true cause of her present amiable feeling towards her worthy neighbours, John Anderson and his wife. Adjusting her mutch now on her head, and spreading her apron decorously before her, Mrs. Callender intimated her intention of proceeding instantly to Mrs. Anderson's to demand her jelly pot in person, and to seek, at the same time, satisfaction for the insulting message that had been sent her. Acting on this resolution, she forthwith commenced her march towards the domicile of John Anderson, nursing, the while, her wrath to keep it warm. On reaching the door, she announced her presence by a series of sharp, open-the-door-instantly knocks, which were promptly attended to, and the visitor courteously admitted.
"Mrs. Anderson," said Mrs. Callender, on entering, and assuming a calmness and composure of demeanour that was sadly belied by the suppressed agitation, or rather fury, which she could not conceal, "I'm just come to ask ye if ye'll be sae guid, Mem, as gie me my jeely mug."
"Yer jeely mug, Mrs. Callender!" exclaimed Mrs. Anderson, raising herself to her utmost height, and already beginning to exhibit symptoms of incipient indignation. "Yer jeely mug, Mrs. Callender!" she repeated, with a provokingly ironical emphasis. "Dear help me, woman, but ye do mak an awfu wark about that jeely mug o' yours. I'm sure it wasna sae muckle worth; and ye hae been often tell't that it was broken, but that we wad willingly pay ye for't."
"It's no payment I want, Mrs. Anderson," replied Mrs. Callender, with a high-spirited toss of the head. "I want my mug, and my mug I'll hae. Do ye hear that?" And here Mrs. Callender struck her clenched fist on the open side of her left hand, in the impressive way peculiar to some ladies when under the influence of passion. "And, since ye come to that o't, let me tell ye ye're a very insultin, ill-bred woman, to tell me that it wasna muckle worth, after ye hae broken't."
"My word, lass," replied Mrs. Anderson, bridling up, with flushed countenance, and head erect, to the calumniator, "but ye're no blate to ca' me thae names i' my ain house."
"Ay, I'll ca' ye thae names, and waur too, in yer ain house, or onywhar else," replied the other belligerent, clenching her teeth fiercely together, and thrusting her face with most intense ferocity into the countenance of her antagonist. "Ay, here or onywhar else," she replied, "I'll ca' ye a mean-spirited, impident woman—an upsettin impident woman! Set your man up, indeed, wi' a red nichtkep!"
"An' what for no?" replied Mrs. Anderson with a look of triumphant inquiry. "He's as weel able to pay for't as you, and maybe, if a' was kent, a hantle better. A red nichtkep, indeed, ye impertinent hizzy!"
"'Od, an' ye hizzy me, I'll te-e-e-eer the liver out o' ye!" exclaimed the now infuriated Mrs. Callender, at the same instant seizing her antagonist by the hair of the head and mutch together, and, in a twinkling, tearing the latter into a thousand shreds. Active hostilities being now fairly commenced, a series of brilliant operations, both offensive and defensive, immediately ensued. The first act of aggression on the part of Mrs. Callender—namely, demolishing her opponent's head-gear—was returned by the latter by a precisely similar proceeding; that is, by tearing her mutch into fragments.
This preliminary operation performed, the combatants resorted to certain various other demonstrative acts of love and friendship; but now with such accompaniments of screams and exclamations as quickly filled the apartment which was the scene of strife, with neighbours, who instantly began to attempt to effect a separation of the combatants. While they were thus employed, in came John Anderson, who had been out of the way when the tug of war began, and close upon his heels came Mr. Callender, whose ears an alarming report of the contest in which his gallant spouse was engaged, had reached. Both gentlemen were, at the moment, in their red nightcaps, and might thus be considerd as the standard bearers of the combatants.