David Elginbrod | Page 9

aboot it, Mr.
Sutherlan'; an' I wad fain read it ower again, afore I lippen on giein' my
opingan on the maitter. Ye cud lave the bit beukie, sir? We'se tak' guid
care o't."
"Ye're verra welcome to that or ony ither beuk I hae," replied Hugh,
who began to feel already as if he were in the hands of a superior.
"Mony thanks; but ye see, sir, we hae eneuch to chow upo' for an aucht
days or so."
By this time the potatoes wore considered to be cooked, and were
accordingly lifted off the fire. The water was then poured away, the lid
put aside, and the pot hung once more upon the crook, hooked a few

rings further up in the chimney, in order that the potatoes might be
thoroughly dry before they were served. Margaret was now very busy
spreading the cloth and laying spoon and plates on the table. Hugh rose
to go.
"Will ye no bide," said Janet, in a most hospitable tone, "an' tak' a het
pitawta wi' us?"
"I'm afraid of being troublesome," answered he.
"Nae fear o' that, gin ye can jist pit up wi' oor hamely meat."
"Mak nae apologies, Janet, my woman," said David. "A het pitawta's
aye guid fare, for gentle or semple. Sit ye doun again, Maister
Sutherlan'. Maggy, my doo, whaur's the milk?"
"I thocht Hawkie wad hae a drappy o' het milk by this time," said
Margaret, "and sae I jist loot it be to the last; but I'll hae't drawn in twa
minutes." And away she went with a jug, commonly called a decanter
in that part of the north, in her hand.
"That's hardly fair play to Hawkie," said David to Janet with a smile.
"Hoot! Dawvid, ye see we haena a stranger ilka nicht."
"But really," said Hugh, "I hope this is the last time you will consider
me a stranger, for I shall be here a great many times--that is, if you
don't get tired of me."
"Gie us the chance at least, Maister Sutherlan'. It's no sma' preevilege to
fowk like us to hae a frien' wi' sae muckle buik learnin' as ye hae, sir."
"I am afraid it looks more to you than it really is."
"Weel, ye see, we maun a' leuk at the starns frae the hicht o' oor ain een.
An' ye seem nigher to them by a lang growth than the lave o's. My man,
ye ought to be thankfu'."
With the true humility that comes of worshipping the Truth, David had
not the smallest idea that he was immeasurably nearer to the stars than
Hugh Sutherland.
Maggie having returned with her jug full of frothy milk, and the
potatoes being already heaped up in a wooden bowl or bossie in the
middle of the table, sending the smoke of their hospitality to the rafters,
Janet placed a smaller wooden bowl, called a caup, filled with
deliciously yellow milk of Hawkie's latest gathering, for each
individual of the company, with an attendant horn-spoon by its side.
They all drew their chairs to the table, and David, asking no blessing,
as it was called, but nevertheless giving thanks for the blessing already

bestowed, namely, the perfect gift of food, invited Hugh to make a
supper. Each, in primitive but not ungraceful fashion, took a potatoe
from the dish with the fingers, and ate it, "bite and sup," with the help
of the horn-spoon for the milk. Hugh thought he had never supped
more pleasantly, and could not help observing how far real
good-breeding is independent of the forms and refinements of what has
assumed to itself the name of society.
Soon after supper was over, it was time for him to go; so, after kind
hand-shakings and good nights, David accompanied him to the road,
where he left him to find his way home by the star-light. As he went, he
could not help pondering a little over the fact that a labouring man had
discovered a difficulty, perhaps a fault, in one of his favourite poems,
which had never suggested itself to him. He soon satisfied himself,
however, by coming to the conclusion that the poet had not cared about
the matter at all, having had no further intention in the poem than Hugh
himself had found in it, namely, witchery and loveliness. But it seemed
to the young student a wonderful fact, that the intercourse which was
denied him in the laird's family, simply from their utter incapacity of
yielding it, should be afforded him in the family of a man who had
followed the plough himself once, perhaps did so still, having risen
only to be the overseer and superior assistant of labourers. He certainly
felt, on his way home, much more reconciled to the