David Elginbrod | Page 8

despicable subject after
such a morning--the first of Spring--"well, how do you like the English
poet, Mr. Elginbrod?"
"Spier that at me this day week, Maister Sutherlan', an' I'll aiblins
answer ye; but no the nicht, no the nicht."
"What for no?" said Hugh, taking up the dialect.
"For ae thing, we're nae clean through wi' the auld sailor's story yet; an'
gin I hae learnt ae thing aboon anither, its no to pass jeedgment upo'
halves. I hae seen ill weather half the simmer, an' a thrang corn-yard

after an' a', an' that o' the best. No that I'm ill pleased wi' the bonny
ballant aither."
"Weel, will ye jist lat me read the lave o't till ye?"
"Wi' muckle pleesur, sir, an' mony thanks."
He showed Hugh how far they had got in the reading of the "Ancient
Mariner"; whereupon he took up the tale, and carried it on to the end.
He had some facility in reading with expression, and his few
affectations--for it must be confessed he was not free of such
faults--were not of a nature to strike uncritical hearers. When he had
finished, he looked up, and his eye chancing to light upon Margaret
first, he saw that her cheek was quite pale, and her eyes overspread
with the film, not of coming tears, but of emotion notwithstanding.
"Well," said Hugh, again, willing to break the silence, and turning
towards David, "what do you think of it now you have heard it all?"
Whether Janet interrupted her husband or not, I cannot tell; but she
certainly spoke first:
"Tshâvah!"--equivalent to pshaw--"it's a' lees. What for are ye knittin'
yer broos ower a leein' ballant--a' havers as weel as lees?"
"I'm no jist prepared to say sae muckle, Janet," replied David; "there's
mony a thing 'at's lees, as ye ca't, 'at's no lees a' through. Ye see,
Maister Sutherlan', I'm no gleg at the uptak, an' it jist taks me twise as
lang as ither fowk to see to the ootside o' a thing. Whiles a sentence 'ill
leuk to me clean nonsense a'thegither; an' maybe a haill ook efter, it'll
come upo' me a' at ance; an' fegs! it's the best thing in a' the beuk."
Margaret's eyes were fixed on her father with a look which I can only
call faithfulness, as if every word he spoke was truth, whether she
could understand it or not.
"But perhaps we may look too far for meanings sometimes," suggested
Sutherland.
"Maybe, maybe; but when a body has a suspeecion o' a trowth, he sud
never lat sit till he's gotten eyther hit, or an assurance that there's
nothing there. But there's jist ae thing, in the poem 'at I can pit my
finger upo', an' say 'at it's no richt clear to me whether it's a'
straucht-foret or no?"
"What's that, Mr. Elginbrod?"
"It's jist this--what for a' thae sailor-men fell doon deid, an' the chield
'at shot the bonnie burdie, an' did a' the mischeef, cam' to little hurt i'

the 'en--comparateevely."
"Well," said Hugh, "I confess I'm not prepared to answer the question.
If you get any light on the subject"--
"Ow, I daursay I may. A heap o' things comes to me as I'm takin' a
daunder by mysel' i' the gloamin'. I'll no say a thing's wrang till I hae
tried it ower an' ower; for maybe I haena a richt grip o' the thing ava."
"What can ye expec, Dawvid, o' a leevin' corp, an' a' that?--ay, twa
hunner corps--fower times fifty's twa hunner--an' angels turnin' sailors,
an' sangs gaein fleein' aboot like laverocks, and tummelin' doon again,
tired like?--Gude preserve's a'!"
"Janet, do ye believe 'at ever a serpent spak?"
"Hoot! Dawvid, the deil was in him, ye ken."
"The deil a word o' that's i' the word itsel, though," rejoined David with
a smile.
"Dawvid," said Janet, solemnly, and with some consternation, "ye're no
gaein' to tell me, sittin' there, at ye dinna believe ilka word 'at's prentit
atween the twa brods o' the Bible? What will Maister Sutherlan' think o'
ye?"
"Janet, my bonnie lass--" and here David's eyes beamed upon his
wife--"I believe as mony o' them as ye do, an' maybe a wheen mair, my
dawtie. Keep yer min' easy aboot that. But ye jist see 'at fowk warna
a'thegither saitisfeed aboot a sairpent speikin', an' sae they leukit aboot
and aboot till at last they fand the deil in him. Gude kens whether he
was there or no. Noo, ye see hoo, gin we was to leuk weel aboot thae
corps, an' thae angels, an' a' that queer stuff--but oh! it's bonny stuff
tee!--we micht fa' in wi' something we didna awthegither expec, though
we was leukin' for't a' the time. Sae I maun jist think