"'What do ye mean about destroying the machine, faither?' inquired Janet and David, almost at the same instant—'who do ye say destroyed it?'
"'Naebody,' said I, angrily, 'naebody!'—for I found I had said what I ought not to hae said.
"'Really, faither,' said Janet, 'whatever it may be that ye think and hint at, I am certain that ye do my mother a great injustice if ye harbour a single thought to her prejudice. It may appear rather proud-spirited her takin back the siller, though I hae na doubt, in the lang run, but we'll a' approve o' it.'
"'That is exactly what I think, too,' said David.
"'Oh, nae dout!' said I, 'nae dout o' that!—for she has ye sae learned, that everything she does, or that ony o' ye does, is always right; and whatever I do must be wrang!' and I went oot o' the house in a pet, driving the door behind me, and thinking about the machine and the loss o' the siller.
"Hooever, I am happy to say, that although Kirsty did tak back the money to the laird and leave it wi' him, yet, as I have already hinted to ye, through her frugal management, within a few years we got the better o' the burning. But there is a saying, that some folk are no sooner weel than they're ill again—and I'm sure I may say that at that time. I no sooner got the better o' the effects o' ae calamity, until another overtook me. Ye hae heard what a terrible dirdum the erecting o' toll-bars caused throughout the country, and upon the Borders in particular. Kirsty was one o' those who cried oot most bitterly against them. She threatened, that if it were attempted to place ane within ten miles o' oor farm, she would tear it to pieces with her ain hands.
"'Here's a bonny time o' day, indeed!' said she, 'that a body canna gang for a cart-load o' coals or peats, or tak their corn, or whatever it may be, to the market, but they must pay whatever a set o' Justices o' the Peace please to charge them for the liberty o' driving along the road. Na, na! the roads did for our faithers before us, and they will do for us. They went alang them free and without payment, and so will we; for I defy any man to claim, what has been a public road for ages, as his property. Only submit to such an imposition, and see what will be the upshot. But, rather than they shall mak sic things in this neighbourhood, I will raise the whole countryside.'
"Unfortunately in this, as in everything else, she verified her words. A toll-bar was erected within half-a-mile o' oor door Kirsty was clean mad about it. She threatened not only to break the yett to pieces, but to hang the toll-keeper owre the yett-post if he offered resistance. I thought o' my machine, and said little; and the more especially because every ane, baith auld and young, and through the whole country, so far as I could hear, were o' the same sentiments as Kirsty. There never was onything proposed in this kingdom that was mair unpopular. And, I am free to confess, that, with regard to the injustice o' toll-bars, I was precisely o' the same way o' thinkin' as my wife—only I by no means wished to carry things to the extremes that she wished to bring them to.
"I ought to tell ye, that our laird was more than suspected o' being the principal cause o' us having a toll-bar placed so near us, so that we could neither go to lime, coals, nor market, without gaun through it. I was, therefore, almost glad that my wife had taken back the siller to him, lest—as I was against raising a disturbance about the matter—folk should say that my hands and tongue were tied wi' the siller which he had given me back; for, if I didna wish to be considered the slave o' my wife, as little did I desire to be thought the tool o' my landlord. But, ae day, I had been in at Dumfries in the month o' July, selling my wool; I had met wi' an excellent market, and a wool-buyer from Leeds and I got very hearty thegether. He had bought from me before; and, on that day, he bought all that I had. I knew him to be an excellent man, though a keen Yorkshireman—and, ye ken, that the Yorkshire folk and we Scotchmen are a gay tight match for ane anither—though I believe, after a', they rather beat us at keeping the grip o' the siller; but as I intended to say, I treated him, and he treated me, and a very agreeable day we had. I recollect when he was pressing me to hae the other gill, I sang him a bit hamely sang o' my ain composing. Ye shall hear it.
Nay, dinna press, I winna stay,
For drink shall ne'er abuse me;
It's time to rise and gang away—
Sae neibors ye'll excuse me.
It's true I like a social gill,
A friendly crack wi' cronies;
But I like my wifie better still,
Our Jennies an' our Johnnies.
There's something by my ain fireside—
A saft, a haly sweetness;
I see, wi' mair than kingly pride,
My hearth a heaven o' neatness
Though whisky may gie care the fling,
It's triumph's unco noisy;
A jiffy it may pleasure bring,
But comfort it destroys aye.
But I can view my ain fireside
Wi' a' a faither's rapture;—
Wee Jenny's hand in mine will slide,
While Davy reads his chapter.
I like your company and yer crack,
But there's ane I loo dearer,
Ane wha will sit till I come back,
Wi' ne'er a ane to cheer her.
A waff o' joy comes owre her face
The moment that she hears me;
The supper—a' thing's in its place,
An' wi' her smiles she cheers me.