University of Virginia Library

NEIL M'NEIL'S NARRATIVE.

So you'll see, when she'll couldna get naebody to open tae room toor, her nainsel opens tae room window, and cries to a man tat was gaun bye, “could you'll tell her, frien', how she'll could win oot to get a trink, for gif she stay muckle langer here she'll be shockit wi' try!” an' says tae man, says him, “tiel tak' your Highlan' wame! gif ye ha'e drucken the house try tat ye're in, ye teserve tae want trink for a twalmonth!” So you'll see—an' him shust stapit awa'—so you'll see, when she sawt her could get nane help she shust looks town to tae causey, for she was tae twa story up—“Od,” say she to her nainsel', “'s shaist no' muckle far'er high than tae Craig o' Balloch, tat she loupit owre wan she was chaist wi' tae gauger, wan she'll rin't awa' wi' tae worm o' tae still. She'll try.” So shust wan she was be gaun to loup, tae maister o' tae house opens tae room toor, an' cries, “Whar are ye gaun, ye Highlan' vagabond! wait and pay your reck'nin' 'ore ye gang oot, or else he'll sent you to bridewell!” So she shust turn roun and mackit a pow, and said to him, “Oich, sir, her's nunko glad to see you, an' wou'd be blithe to be sent to either—the bride's well or the bridegroom's well—she'll cou'd tireck her to, for she's tat try she cou'd trink oot o' tae glooter sheugh.” “Od,” say him, “you'll needna been sae try, for ye left tae feck o' a gill and a pottle o' yill yestreen, when yon limmer left ye, after ye fell asleep; an' I set, shust set it by i' the press there. I thocht ye wad haen as muckle sense as fan' the smell o't whan ye waukent.” So her brangt him oot o' tae press, and she shust flewt on't like tae tiger, an' trank t'em a' baith; oich, man, it was refresh! Then says to tae maister, “What pe tae tamage yestreen?” “Oo,” say him, says the maister, “ye'll ken tere was shust seven trams an' sax pottles o' yill, an' the twa pies—that's shust four an' fourpence;—ay, an' tere was a proken glass, that's fivepence mair—five shillin's a' tegither; we'll sharge naething for lodgin', as she was only lyin' on the floor.” “Weel, weel,” say she, “'s gawn to be tae dear fair; petter she't been at her

wark; but, howsomenever, she'll be settle! so she shust puts her han' into the poush whar her siller wast—an', Ods guide her! she was awa', every pawbee; so she fin's tae tither poush, an' tae tither tither poush, an' a' tae poushes tegither—an' tae watch poush—put nae words o't! “Oich,” she'll says then, “she's peen rob, she's peen rob! she'll had ten shillin' whan she cam in yestreen, an' now she's a' awa'!” So says tae maister to me, says him, “it's a' ane to me that, though I'm sorry for't. I maun hae my reck'nin'; ye should hae keepit oot o' tae company o' sic a hizzie as you were wi' yestreen, for she wasna the wale o' ware, I doubt.” “Oich,” says she, “yon tecent, praw, ponny, modest, tancin', singin', laughin' ladysh, couldna be sae cruel as tak tae advantesh o' a poor 'onest lad tat had nane ill in his head, though he was fu'—no, no, she canna think tat!” “Devil tak' your impudence,” says the maister, “do ye think I teuk your siller, gif you had ony? come, come, see what way ye're gaun to pay me, an' than ye may think as favourably as ye like o' her ye teuk for a lady! Deil a bit, frien', if I was in your place I wud tak' the gowd; for, ye may depend on't, ye'll no' win out owre this door till ye pay me. There's a sergeant in our house, a kintraman o' yer ain, belongin' to the 42d, wad be as glad o' you as ye're o' him.” “Oich, oich,” thinks she, “this fair day will be a foul day to her nainsel onyway—for though she wad gangt pack to her wark now, her maister wad sen' her awa' again for fuddling sae lang.” So she shust gangt awa' toun tot ae searshen an listit, an' got ae shillin' for tae king, an' five frae the searshen, to pay the reck'nin',—an' the maister an' her was shust as good frien's as never, an' him gi'e us plenty mair trink; an' the searshen an' her spoken Gaelic about tae Highlan's; and sang, Tara murin, yeichan duran, &c.