Alec Forbes of Howglen | Page 5

been born wantin' a leg--eh, Thamas?"
"George! George!" said Thomas, with great solemnity, "luik ye efter

yer sowl, an' the Lord'ill luik after yer body, legs an' a'! Man, ye're no
convertit, an' hoo can ye unnerstan' the things o' the speerit? Aye jeerin',
an' jeerin'!"
"Weel! weel! Thamas," rejoined Macwha, mollified in perceiving that
he had not had altogether the worst in the tilt of words; "I wad only tak'
the leeberty o' thinkin' that, when He was aboot it, the Almighty micht
as weel mak' a new body a'thegither, as gang patchin' up the auld ane.
Sae I s' twa hame."
"Mind ye yer immortal pairt, George," said Thomas with a final thrust,
as he likewise rose to go home with him on the box of the hearse.
"Gin the Lord tak's sic guid care o' the body, Thamas," retorted
Macwha, with less of irreverence than appeared in his words, "maybe
he winna objec' to gie a look to my puir soul as weel; for they say it's
worth a hantle mair. I wish he wad, for he kens better nor me hoo to set
aboot the job."
So saying, he strode briskly over the graves and out of the churchyard,
leaving Thomas to follow as fast as suited his unwieldy strength.
CHAPTER IV.
Meantime another conversation was going on in one of the gigs, as it
bore two of the company from the place of tombs, which will serve a
little for the purposes of this history. One of the twain was a cousin of
the deceased, already incidentally mentioned as taking some direction
in the matter of refreshment. His name was no less than Robert Bruce.
The other was called Andrew Constable, and was a worthy elder of the
kirk.
"Weel, Robert," began the latter, after they had jogged on in silence for
half a mile or so, "what's to be done wi' little Annie Anderson and her
Auntie Meg, noo that the douce man's gane hame, an' left them theroot,
as't war?"
"They canna hae that muckle to the fore efter the doctor an' a' 's sattled

for."
"It's no to be thought. It's lang sin' ever he wrought a day's darg
(contracted from 'daywerk')."
"Jeames Dow luikit weel after the farmin', though."
"Nae doot. He's a guid servant that, to ony man he ca's master. But
there canna be muckle siller to the fore."
A pause followed.
"What think ye noo, Andrew?" recommenced Bruce. "Ye're weel kent
for an honest an' a langheided man. Do ye think that folk wad expec'
onything o' me gin the warst cam to the warst?"
"Weel, Robert, I dinna think there's muckle guid in luikin' to what fowk
micht or micht not expec' o' ye."
"That's jist what I was thinkin' mysel'; for, ye see, I hae a sma' family o'
my ain to haud chowin' already."
"Nae doot--nae doot. But--"
"Ay, ay; I ken what ye wad say. I maunna a'thegither disregaird what
fowk think, 'cause there's the chop (shop); an' gin I ance got--no to say
an ill name, but jist the wind o' no being sae considerate as I micht hae
been, there's no sayin' but twa or three micht gang by my door, and
across to Jamie Mitchell's yonner."
"Do ye what's richt, Robert Bruce, and sae defy fowk and fairy."
"Na, na, that winna aye work. A body maun tak' care o' their ain, else
wha's to do't?"
"Weel," rejoined Andrew with a smile, for he understood Bruce well
enough, although he pretended to have mistaken his meaning--"weel,
gin the bairnie falls to you, nae doot ye maun take chairge o' her."

"I dinna mean Jeames Anderson's bairns--I mean my ain bairns."
"Robert, whatever way ye decide, I houp it may be sic a deceesion as
will admit o' yer castin' yer care upo' Him."
"I ken a' aboot that, Andrew. But my opeenion upo' that text is jist
this--that ilka vessel has to haud the fill o' 't, and what rins ower may be
committed to Him, for ye can haud it no langer. Them that winna tak
tent (care) 'll tak scathe. It's a sweer (lazy) thochtless way to gang to the
Almichty wi' ilka fash. Whan I'm driven to ane mair, that ane sall aye
be Him. Ye min' the story about my namesake and the spidder?"
"Ay, weel eneuch," answered Andrew.
But he did not proceed to remark that he could see no connection
between that story and the subject in hand, for Bruce's question did not
take him by surprise, it being well understood that he was in the habit
of making all possible and some impossible references to his great
namesake. Indeed, he wished everybody to think, though he seldom
ventured to assert it plainly, that he was lineally descended