“‘Get up, ye lazy body, ye—get up, and see what’s the maiter wi’ this bairn.’
“An’ this was the trade half-a-dizen o’ times in a nicht.
“At last, there was ae day, when a’ that I had dune was simply saying a word about the denner no bein’ ready, and afore ever I kenned whar I was, a cracky-stool that she had bought for the bairn cam fleein’ across the room, and gied me a dirl on the elbow, that made me think my arm was broken. Ye may guess what a stroke it was, when I tell ye I couldna lift my hand to my head for a week to come. Noo, the like o’ that, ye ken, was what mortal man couldna stand.
“‘Tibby,’ said I, and I looked very desperate and determined, ‘what do ye mean by this conduct? By a’ that’s gracious, I’ll no put up wi’ it ony langer!’
“‘Ye’ll no put up wi’ it, ye cratur!’ said she; ‘if ye gie me ony mair o’ yer provocation, I’ll pu’ yer lugs for ye—wull ye put up wi’ that?’
“It was terrible for a man to hear his ain wife ca’ him a cratur!—just as if I had been a monkey or a laup-doug!
“‘O ye disdainfu’ limmer,’ thought I; ‘but if I could humble your proud spirit, I wad do it!’ Weel, there was a grand new ballant hawkin’ about the country at the time—it was ca’d ‘Watty and Meg’—ye have nae doubt seen’t. Meg was just such a terrible termagant as my Tibby; and I remembered the perfect reformation that was wrought upon her by Watty’s bidding her fareweel, and threatenin’ to list. So it just struck me that I wad tak a leaf out o’ the ballant. Therefore, keeping the same serious and determined look, for I was in no humour to seem otherwise—‘Tibby,’ says I, ‘there shall be nae mair o’ this. But I will gang and list this very day, and ye’ll see what will come ower ye then—ye’ll maybe repent o’ yer conduct whan it’s ower late.’
“‘List! ye totum ye!’ said she; ‘do ye say list?’ and she said this in a tone and wi’ a look o’ derision that gaed through my very soul. ‘What squad will ye list into?—what regiment will tak ye? Do ye intend to list for a fifer laddie?’ And as she said this, she held up her oxter, as if to tak me below’t.
“I thought I wad hae drapped doun wi’ indignation. I could hae strucken her, if I durst. Ye observe, I am just five feet twa inches and an eighth, upon my stockin’-soles. That is rather below the army standard—and I maun say it’s a very foolish standard; for a man o’ my height stands a better chance to shoot anither than a giant that wad fire ower his head. But she was aware that I was below the mark, and my threat was of no avail; so I had just to slink awa into the shop, rubbin’ my elbow.
“But the cracky-stool was but the beginning o’ her drivin’; there wasna a week after that but she let flee at me whatever cam in the way, whenever I by accident crossed her cankered humour. It’s a wonder that I’m in the land o’ the living; for I’ve had the skin peeled off my legs—my arms maistly broken—my head cut, and ither parts o’ my body a’ black and blue, times out o’ number. I thought her an angel when I was courtin’ her; but, O Robin! she has turned out—I’ll no say what—an adder!—a teeger!—a she fury!