Chamberss Edinburgh Journal, No. 436 | Page 8

Dumbartonshire.
Through their interest, he had been appointed to the office of power and
trust in which I made his acquaintance. John was one of my earliest
friends, though the remnant of his name was never heard nor inquired
after by me. The great town has now grown much nearer his toll-house,
which then stood alone on the country road, with no building in sight
but the school, at which I, and some two score of the surrounding
juveniles, were supposed to be trained in wisdom's ways, by the elder
brother of our parish minister. A painstaking, kindly teacher he was;
but the toll-house was a haunt more pleasant to our young fancies than
his seminary. John was the general friend and confidant of all the boys;
he settled our disputes, made the best tops and balls for us, taught us a
variety of new tricks in play, and sometimes bestowed upon us good
advices, which were much sooner forgotten. John never married. He
had a conviction, which was occasionally avowed, that all women were
troublesome; and whether this evidence be considered pro or con, he
was a man of rough sense and rustic piety, of a most fearless, and, what
the Germans call, a self-standing nature--for solitude or society came
all alike to John. You would as soon expect a pine-tree to be out of
sorts, as his hard, honest face, and muscular frame. John was never sick,
or disturbed in any way; he performed his own domestic duties with a
neatness and regularity known to few housekeepers, and was a faithful
and most uncompromising guardian of the toll-bar. I well remember
how our young imaginations were impressed with the fact, that no man
could pass, without, as it were, paying tribute to him; and George IV.,
though he appeared on the coppers with which we bought apples, cast
by no means so mighty a shadow on our minds as English John. Before
this glory waned, I was removed from his neighbourhood, being sent to
cheer the heart and secure the legacy of a certain uncle who was a

writer to the Signet in Edinburgh, and believed to be in profitable
practice and confirmed bachelorhood. The worthy man has long ago
married his landlady's daughter, and been blessed with a family
sufficient to fill a church-pew. My own adventures--how I grew from
garment to garment, how I became a law-student, and at length a writer
myself--have little to do with the present narrative, and are therefore
spared the reader in detail; but the first startling intelligence I received
from home was, that English John had resigned his important office at
the toll-house, and gone, nobody knew whither!
Years had passed; my professional studies were finished, and I had
occasion to visit a Fife laird near the East Neuk. The gentleman was
notable for his taste in kitchen-gardening; and having a particularly fine
bed of Jerusalem artichokes which I must see, he conducted me to the
scene of his triumphs, when, hard at work with the rake and hoe, whom
should I find as the much esteemed gardener, but my old friend English
John! His hair had grown quite gray, and his look strangely grave, since
last I saw him: time had altered me still more; nevertheless, John knew
me at once--he had always a keen eye--but I perceived it was his wish
not to be recognised at all in presence of the laird. That worthy was one
of those active spirits who extend their superintendence to every
department. He commanded in the pantry as well as on the farm; and
while expatiating over the artichokes, a private message from his lady
summoned him back to the house, as I sincerely believe, on some
matter connected with the dinner; and he left me, with an understood
permission to admire the artichokes, and the garden in general, as long
as I pleased. Scarcely was he fairly out of sight, till I was at the
gardener's side. 'John, my old fellow,' cried I, grasping his hand, 'I'm
glad to see you once again. How has the world behaved to you these
many years?'
'Pretty well, Master Willie,' said John, heartily returning my shake; 'and
I'm glad to see you too; but your memory must be uncommon good, for
many a one of the boys has passed me by on street and highway. How
have they all turned out?' And he commenced a series of inquiries after
schoolmates and old neighbours, to which my answers were as usual in
such cases--some were dead, some were married, and some gone far

away.
'But, John,' said I at last, determined to make out the mystery which
had so long puzzled me and the entire parish--'in exchange for all my
news, tell me why you left the toll-house?