Part 8 (2/2)
”Hard enow,” said the auld man, breaking his silence. ”But we'd no be wi'oot them. They brichten up the hoose it'd be dull' and drear wi'oot them. I'm hoping that daft lad never comes back, for all o'
Lizzie's thinking on him!”
And I share his hope. Chance! Had ever man a greater chance than that sailor lad? He had gone wrong as a boy. Those old folk, because their daughter loved him, gave him the greatest chance a man can have--the chance to retrieve a bad start, to make up for a false step. How many men have that? How many men are there, handicapped as, no doubt, he was, who find those to put faith in them? If a man may not take advantage of sicca chance as that he needs no better chance again than a rope around his neck with a stone tied to it and a drop into the Firth o' Forth!
I've a reminder to this day of that wee hoose at Gatehouse-of-Fleet.
There was an old fas.h.i.+oned wag-at-the-wa' in the bedroom where I slept. It had a very curiously shaped little china face, and it took my fancy greatly. Sae, next morning, I offered the old couple a good, stiff price for it mair than it was worth, maybe, but not mair than it was worth to me. They thought I was bidding far too much, and wanted to tak' half, but I would ha' my ain way, for sae I was sure neither of was being cheated. I carried it away wi' me, and the little clock wags awa' in my bedroom to this very day.
There's a bit story I micht as weel tell ye mesel', for yell hear it frae Mac in any case, if ever ye chance to come upon him. It's the tale o' Kirsty Lamont and her rent box. I played eavesdropper, or I wouldna know it to pa.s.s it on to ye, but it's tae gude tae lose, for a' that. I'll be saying, first, that I dinna know Kirsty Lamont, though I mak' sae free wi' her name, gude soul!
It was in Kirremuir, and there'd been a braw concert the nicht before.
I was on my way to the post office, thinking there'd be maybe a bit letter from the wife--she wrote to me, sometimes, then, when I was frae hame, oor courtin' days not being so far behind us as they are noo. (Ah, she travels wi' me always the noo, ye ken, sae she has nae need to write to me!) Suddenly I heard my own name as I pa.s.sed a bunch o' women gossiping.
”What thocht ye o' Harry Lauder?” one of them asked another.
And the one she asked was no slow to say! ”I think this o' Harry Lauder, buddies!” she declared, vehemently. ”I think it's a dirty trick he's played on me, the wee deeil. I'm not sayin' it was altogither his fault, though--he's not knowing he did it!”
”How was the way o' that, Kirsty Lamont?” asked another.
”I'm tellin' ye. Fan the la.s.sies came in frae the mull last nicht they flang their working things frae them as though they were mad.
”'Fat's all the stus.h.i.+e?' I asked them. They just leuch at me, and said they were hurryin' so they could hear Harry Lauder sing. They said he was the comic frae Glasga, and they asked me was I no gang wi'
them tae the Toon Ha' to hear his concert.
”'No,' I says. 'All the siller in the hoose maun gang for the rent, and it's due on Setterday. Fat wad the neighbors be sayin' if they saw Kirsty Lamont gang to a concert in a rent week--fas.h.i.+n' aboot like that!'”
”But Phem--that's my eldest dochter, ye ken--she wad ha' me gang alang. She bade me put on my bonnet and my dolman, and said she'd pay for me, so's to leave the siller for the rent. So I said I'd gang, since they were so keen like, and we set oot jist as John came hame for his tea. I roort at him that he could jist steer for himself for a nicht. And he asked why, and I said I was gang to hear Harry Lauder.
”'d.a.m.n Harry Lauder!” he answers, gey short. ”Ye'll be sorry yet for this nicht's work, Kirsty Lamont. Leavin' yer auld man tae mak' his ain tea, and him workin' syne six o'clock o' the morn!'”
”I turn't at that, for John's a queer ane when he tak's it intil's head, but the la.s.sies poo'd me oot th' door and in twa-three meenits we were at the ha'. Fat a crus.h.i.+n' a fechtin' the get in. The bobby at the door saw me--savin' that we'd no ha' got in. But the bobby kens me fine--I've bailed John oot twice, for a guinea ilka time, and they recognize steady customers there like anywheres else!
”The concert was fine till that wee man Harry came oot in his kilt.
And then, losh, I start.i.t to laugh till the watter ran doon my cheeks, and the la.s.sies was that mortified they wushed they had nae brocht me.
I'm no ane to laugh at a concert or a play, but that wee Harry made ithers laugh beside me, so I was no the only ane to disgrace mysel'.
”It was eleven and after when we got hame. And there was no sogn o'
John. I lookit a' ower, and he wisna in the hoose. Richt then I knew what had happened. I went to the kist where I kep' the siller for the rent. Not a bawbee left! He'll be spendin' it in the pubs this meenit I'm talkie' to ye, and we'll no see him till he hasna a penny left to his name. So there's what I think of yer Harry Lauder. I wish I wis within half a mile o' him this meenit, and I'd tell him what I thocht o' him, instead o' you! It's three months rent yer fine Harry Lauder has cost.i.t me! Had he na been here in Kirrie last nicht de ye think I'd ever ha' left the rent box by its lane wi' a man like our Jock in the hoose?”
You may be sure I did not turn to let the good Kirsty see my face. She wasna sae angry as she pretended, maybe, but I'm thinkin' she'd maybe ha' scratched me a bit in the face o' me, just to get even wi' me, had she known I was so close!
I've heard such tales before and since the time I heard Kirsty say what she thocht o' me. Many's the man has had me for an explanation of why he was sae late. I'm sorry if I've made trouble t'wixt man and wife, but I'm flattered, too, and I may as well admit it!
Ye can guess hoo Mac took that story. I was sae unwise as tae tell it to him, and he told it to everyone else, and was always threatening me with Kirsty Lamont. He pretended that some one had pointed her oot to him, so that he knew her by sicht, and he wad say that he saw her in the audience. And sometimes he'd peep oot the stage door and say he saw her waiting for me.
And, the de'il! He worked up a great time with the wife, tellin' aboot this Kirsty Lamont that was so eager to see me, till Nance was jealous, almost, and I had to tell her the whole yarn before she'd forgie me! Heard ye ever the like o' such foolishness? But that was Mac's way. He could distil humor from every situation.
CHAPTER IX
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