The Story of My Boyhood and Youth | Page 3

of terrifying experiences connected with these first schooldays
grew out of crimes committed by the keeper of a low lodging-house in
Edinburgh, who allowed poor homeless wretches to sleep on benches
or the floor for a penny or so a night, and, when kind Death came to
their relief, sold the bodies for dissection to Dr. Hare of the medical
school. None of us children ever heard anything like the original story.
The servant girls told us that "Dandy Doctors," clad in long black
cloaks and supplied with a store of sticking-plaster of wondrous
adhesiveness, prowled at night about the country lanes and even the
town streets, watching for children to choke and sell. The Dandy
Doctor's business method, as the servants explained it, was with
lightning quickness to clap a sticking-plaster on the face of a scholar,
covering mouth and nose, preventing breathing or crying for help, then
pop us under his long black cloak and carry us to Edinburgh to be sold
and sliced into small pieces for folk to learn how we were made. We

always mentioned the name "Dandy Doctor" in a fearful whisper, and
never dared venture out of doors after dark. In the short winter days it
got dark before school closed, and in cloudy weather we sometimes had
difficulty in finding our way home unless a servant with a lantern was
sent for us; but during the Dandy Doctor period the school was closed
earlier, for if detained until the usual hour the teacher could not get us
to leave the schoolroom. We would rather stay all night supperless than
dare the mysterious doctors supposed to be lying in wait for us. We had
to go up a hill called the Davel Brae that lay between the schoolhouse
and the main street. One evening just before dark, as we were running
up the hill, one of the boys shouted, "A Dandy Doctor! A Dandy
Doctor!" and we all fled pellmell back into the schoolhouse to the
astonishment of Mungo Siddons, the teacher. I can remember to this
day the amused look on the good dominie's face as he stared and tried
to guess what had got into us, until one of the older boys breathlessly
explained that there was an awful big Dandy Doctor on the Brae and
we couldna gang hame. Others corroborated the dreadful news. "Yes!
We saw him, plain as onything, with his lang black cloak to hide us in,
and some of us thought we saw a sticken-plaister ready in his hand."
We were in such a state of fear and trembling that the teacher saw he
wasn't going to get rid of us without going himself as leader. He went
only a short distance, however, and turned us over to the care of the
two biggest scholars, who led us to the top of the Brae and then left us
to scurry home and dash into the door like pursued squirrels diving into
their holes.
Just before school skaled (closed), we all arose and sang the fine hymn
"Lord, dismiss us with Thy blessing." In the spring when the swallows
were coming back from their winter homes we sang--
"Welcome, welcome, little stranger, Welcome from a foreign shore;
Safe escaped from many a danger ..."
and while singing we all swayed in rhythm with the music. "The
Cuckoo," that always told his name in the spring of the year, was
another favorite song, and when there was nothing in particular to call
to mind any special bird or animal, the songs we sang were widely

varied, such as
"The whale, the whale is the beast for me, Plunging along through the
deep, deep sea."
But the best of all was "Lord, dismiss us with Thy blessing," though at
that time the most significant part I fear was the first three words.
With my school lessons father made me learn hymns and Bible verses.
For learning "Rock of Ages" he gave me a penny, and I thus became
suddenly rich. Scotch boys are seldom spoiled with money. We thought
more of a penny those economical days than the poorest American
schoolboy thinks of a dollar. To decide what to do with that first penny
was an extravagantly serious affair. I ran in great excitement up and
down the street, examining the tempting goodies in the shop windows
before venturing on so important an investment. My playmates also
became excited when the wonderful news got abroad that Johnnie Muir
had a penny, hoping to obtain a taste of the orange, apple, or candy it
was likely to bring forth.
At this time infants were baptized and vaccinated a few days after birth.
I remember very well a fight with the doctor when my brother David
was vaccinated. This happened, I think, before