In that same county Sir Kenneth Mackenzie directed my attention to a servant-girl, who, if not less scrupulous, was more logical in her practice. She astonished her master, one of Sir Kenneth's tenants, by refusing to feed the cows on the Sabbath. She was ready to milk, but by no means feed them—and her defence shows that though a fanatic, she was not a fool.
"The cows," she said—drawing a nice metaphysical distinction between what are not and what are works of necessity and mercy that would have done honor to a casuist—"the cows canna milk themselves; so to milk them is clear work of necessity and mercy; but let them out to the fields, and they'll feed themselves." Here certainly was scrupulosity; but the error was one that leaned to the right side. [[15]]
A Typical Quarrel
The story of the happy young couple who quarreled on the first day of their housekeeping life about the "rat" or the "mouse" which ran out of the fireplace, it seems, had its origin "long time ago" in the incident thus done into rhyme. The last verse explains the mysterious mistake:
John Davidson, and Tib his wife,
Sat toastin' their taes ae nicht,
When something startit in the fluir
And blinkit by their sicht.
"Guidwife," quoth John, "did you see that moose?
Whar sorra was the cat?"
"A moose?"—"Ay, a moose."—"Na, na, guidman,
It wasna a moose! 'twas a rat."
"Ow, ow, guidwife, to think ye've been
Sae lang aboot the hoose,
An' no' to ken a moose frae a rat!
Yan wasna a rat! 'twas a moose!"
"I've seen mair mice than you, guidman—
An' what think ye o' that?
Sae haud your tongue, an' say nae mair—
I tell ye, it was a rat."
"Me haud my tongue for you, guidwife!
I'll be mester o' this hoose—
I saw't as plain as een could see,
An' I tell ye, it was a moose."