Part 9

About the year 1746, this trade had arrived at so great a height, that the high-road to England by Gretna Green was thronged with those engaged in it, going to and returning from the sister kingdom with their loaded ponies; and a merry and bustling time of it they kept at the Floshend Inn. This hostelry, now extinct, was long a favourite resort of these packmen, or pack-carriers, as they were more generally or more properly called. It was situated on the Scottish side of the Borders, near to Gretna Green, and was kept by a very civil and obliging person, of the luminous name of John Gas--a little, fat, good-humoured, landlord-looking body, with a countenance strongly expressive of his comfortable condition, having a capital business, and being very much at his ease, both in mind and body. His house was a favourite resort of the pack-carriers; and for good reasons. It was the last inn of any note on the Scottish side, and was, of consequence, the first they came to on re-entering their native country from their expeditions into England. The quarters, besides, were in themselves excellent; the accommodations were good, and the fare abundant, reasonable, and of the first quality--especially the liquor, that great _sine qua non_ of good cheer. In addition to all this, John Gas himself was the very pink of landlords; humorous, kind, attentive, and obliging; possessing that valuable quality of being able to stand almost any given quantity of drink, which enabled him to distribute his presence and his company over any number of successive guests. Fresh as a bedewed daisy, and steady as a wave-beaten rock, he was always forthcoming, whatever might have been the amount of previous duty he had performed; and what might remain yet to do he always overtook, and executed with credit to himself, and satisfaction to his customers--no instance having been known of his having been placed _hors de combat_, either by ale-cup or brandy-bottle. With such claims on public patronage, it was no wonder that his house secured so large a share of the custom of the itinerant merchants of the time; who, so much did they appreciate the comforts of the Floshend Inn, and so much were they alive to the merits of its host, that they would not rest, foul or fair, dark or light, anywhere within ten miles of it. A dozen of them were thus frequently assembled together at the same time under the hospitable roof; and, being all known to each other, they formed, on such occasions, a merry corps--spending freely, and sitting down all together at the same table. A more amusing or more entertaining company could, perhaps, nowhere be found; for they were all shrewd, intelligent men--their profession and their wandering lives putting them in possession of a vast store of curious adventure and anecdote, and throwing many sights in their way which escape the local fixtures of the human race. Naturally of a gossiping turn--a propensity made particularly evident when they chanced to meet together in such a way as we have described--they were in the habit of amusing each other with narratives of what they had seen and heard that was strange, and enlivening the evening with merry tale and jest.

It was somewhere about the month of March, in the year 1750, that a knot of these worthies, consisting of seven or eight, was assembled in the cheerful kitchen of the Floshend Inn--an apartment they preferred for its superior comfort, its blazing fire, and its freedom from all restraint. Some of the guests present on this occasion were on their way to England; others had just returned from it, with packs of Manchester goods, and large bales of Kendal leather. These last, and all other descriptions of merchandise which his pack-carrier customers brought, were stowed in a large room in the inn, which the landlord had very judiciously and very properly appropriated for this purpose; while the horses that bore them were comfortably quartered in the commodious and well-ordered stables. They were seated on either side of the fire, with a small round table between them, on which stood a circle of glasses; in the centre, a smoking jug, whose contents may be readily guessed; and close by the table was the landlord, doing the honours of the occasion--that is, making the brandy-toddy, and filling the glasses of his guests. The master of ceremonies was in great glee, being precisely in his element, the situation of all others in which he most delighted--a bowl of good liquor before him, a set of merry good friends around him, and the prospect of a neat, snug reckoning in perspective. The conversation amongst the guests was general; but it might have been observed that one of the party had got the ear of the landlord, and was telling him, in an under-tone, some curious story; for the latter, with head inclined towards the facetious narrator, was chuckling and smirking at every turn of the humorous tale. At length a sudden roar of laughter at once announced its consummation, and attracted towards himself the general attention of the company.

"What's that, mine host?" was an inquiry put by three or four at once. "Something guid, I warrant; for that was a hearty ane." The speaker meant Mr Gas's laugh. "What was't?"

"It's a story," replied he, the tears still standing in his eyes, "that Andrew here has been tellin me, aboot the minister o' Kirkfodden and his servant lass--and a very guid ane it is. Andrew, will I tell it?" he added, turning round to the person who had told him the story.

"Surely, surely," replied Andrew; "let it gang to the general guid."

Aweel, freends (said mine host, now confronting his auditors), the minister o' Kirkfodden, ye maun ken, is, though a clergyman, a droll sort o' body, and very fond o' a curious story, and still fonder o' a guid joke--and no a whit the waur is he o' that; for he is a guid, worthy man, as I mysel ken. The minister had a servant lass they ca'd Jenny Waterstone--a young, guid-lookin, decent, active quean; and she had a sweetheart o' the name o' David Widrow--a neighbourin ploughman lad, a very decent chield in his way--wha used to come skulkin aboot the manse at nichts, to get a sicht and a word o' Jenny, withoot ony objection on the part o' the minister, wha believed it to be, as it really was, an honourable courtship on baith sides. Ae nicht, being later in his garden than usual--indeed, until it got pretty dark--the minister's attention was suddenly attracted by a loud whisperin on the ither side o' the garden wa', just opposite to where he stood. He listened a moment, and soon discovered that the whisperers were David Widrow and his servant, and overheard, as the nicht was uncommonly lown, the followin conversation between the lovin pair:--

"I fear, Jenny," said David, "that the minister winna be owre weel pleased to see me comin sae aften aboot the house."

"I dinna think he'll be ill pleased," replied Jenny. "He's no ane o' that kind."

"Still," said David, "I had better let the nicht fa', now and then, before I come; and then he'll no see me mair than four times a-week or sae. He canna count that bein very troublesome."

"Just as ye like, David," said she.

"But how am I to let ye ken I'm here?" inquired the lover.

"Ye can just gie a rap at the kitchen window, and I'll come oot to ye," replied the girl.

"Very weel," said David; "I'll come and rap at the back window the morn's nicht."

"Do sae," replied she; "and, if I canna get oot to ye at the moment, just step into the barn till I come. I'll leave the door open for ye."

This matter arranged, the lovers parted, little suspectin wha had overheard them; and the minister went into the house. On the followin evenin, a little after dark, the doctor, closely wrapped up in a plaid belongin to his servin-man, slipped oot, and, stealin up behind the house, till he cam to the kitchen window, gave the preconcerted signal, by gently tappin on it with his fingers. Jenny, who was employed at the moment in bottlin aff a sma' cask o' choice strong ale, for his ain particular use, immediately answered the ca', raised the window, and put oot her head.

"Is that you, David?" said she.

"Yes," said the minister, in a whisper so gentle as to prevent her recognisin his voice.

"I canna get to ye at present," said Jenny; "for I'm engaged bottlin some ale, and maun put it a' past before I gang oot; the minister's waitin till I tak it up the stair; but love maks clever hands, as they say, and I'll gie ye something to keep ye frae wearyin, in the meantime, till I come." Sayin this she handed him oot a bottle o' the ale, and a basket containin some cakes and cheese. "Now," said she, "tak thae awa to the barn wi' ye, David, and tak a bite and a sowp till I come." And she drew down the window, and resumed her work. The minister, without sayin a word, retired wi' his booty, and placed it in a dark corner at a little distance. In a short time he again returned to the window, and again rapped. The window was promptly thrown up, and Jenny's head thrust oot.

"Can ye gie's anither bottle, Jenny?" said the minister, speakin as low as before, and disguisin his voice as well as he could.

"Anither bottle, David!" exclaimed Jenny, in surprise. "Gude save us frae a' evil! hae ye finished a hail bottle already? My troth, that's clever wark! But I canna gie ye anither the nicht, David. It's a' put past. Besides, ye hae aneugh for ae nicht."

"Weel, weel," said the minister; "come oot as sune as ye can, Jenny." And he again slippit awa.

Thinkin, now, that he couldna carry the joke farther wi' safety, as there was great risk o' the real David appearin, the minister slippit into the house, threw aff his plaid, and went to a little back window that was immediately over the kitchen ane, from which he could, by a little cautious management, both see and overhear, unobserved, all that should pass between Jenny and her lover, when _he_ came on the stage. Nor had he to wait long for this. In a few minutes after he had taken his station, he saw David come round the corner o' the house, and steal, wi' cautious steps, towards the kitchen-window. He rapped. The window was raised, but evidently wi' some impatience.

"Gude bless me, Davie! are ye there again already?" said Jenny, somewhat testily. "Dear me, man, can ye no hae patience a bit? I'll come to ye immediately." And, without waitin for ony answer, she again banged doun the window.

David was confounded at this treatment; but, as Jenny had gien him nae time to mak ony remark for her edification, he made ane or twa for his ain.

"Here _again_!" he said, mutterin to himself--"here _already_! Can I no hae patience!" Then, after a pause, "What does the woman mean? What _can_ she mean?"

This was a question, however, which Jenny hersel only could explain; and for this explanation David had to wait wi' what patience he could conveniently spare. But he certainly hadna to tarry lang; for, in twa or three minutes after, a soft, low voice was heard sayin--

"Whar are ye, David?"

"Here," quoth David, in the same cautious voice.

"Dear me, man," said Jenny, "what was a' yer hurry? I'm sure ae rap at the window was as guid as twenty. Ye micht hae been sure I wad come to ye as sune as I could."

"Hurry, Jenny! What do ye mean? I was only ance at the window," replied David. "Ye surely canna ca' that impatience."

"Ye're fou, Davie; that's plain," said Jenny. "The bottle o' ale has gane to your head, and ye've forgotten. Nae wonder; it wasna sma' beer, I warrant ye, but real double stoot. Catch the minister drinkin onything else! Thae black-coats ken what's guid for them." And, without waitin for ony answer, she proceeded--"But whar hae ye left the basket, Davie? Is't in the barn?"

"Jenny," said David, now perfectly bewildered by all this, to him, wholly incomprehensible ravin, "ye say I'm fou; but, if I'm no greatly mistaen, ye're the fouest o' the twa." And he peered into her face, to see how far appearances would confirm his conjectures.

"Awa wi' ye, ye stupid gowk!" said Jenny, pushin him good-naturedly from her. "Ye're just as fou's the Baltic--that's plain. But tell me, man, whar ye put the basket; for it may be missed? I houp ye haena forgotten that tae?"

"Jenny," replied David, now somewhat mair sincerely, "will ye tell me at ance what ye mean? What bottles o' ale and baskets are ye speakin aboot?"

"Ha! ha! Like as ye dinna ken!" said Jenny, lookin archly, and giein her lover anither push. "That's a guid ane! To drink my ale, and eat my bread and cheese, and then deny it!"

I leave you, guid freends (said the narrator here), to conjecture what were David's feelins, and to conceive what were his looks, while Jenny was thus chargin him wi' ingratitude. I'll no attempt a description o' them. A' this time the minister was lookin owre his window, richt abune the lovers, and heard every word o' what they said; but he keepit quiet till the argument should come to a crisis. In the meantime the conversation between the lovers proceeded.

"Jenny," said David, in reply to her last remark, "ye're either daft or fou--and that's the end o't. Sae let us speak aboot something else if ye can."

"Do ye mean to say, David," replied Jenny--now getting somewhat serious too, and a little surprised, in her turn, at seein the perfect composure o' her lover, and the utter unconsciousness expressed on his countenance--"do ye mean to say that I didna gie ye a bottle o' ale and a basket o' bread and cheese oot o' the window there, aboot a quarter-o'-an-hour syne?"

"Never saw them, nor heard o' them," replied David, with great coolness.

"Ta! nonsense, man!" said Jenny, with impatient credulity. "And did ye no come and seek anither? and did ye no come three or four times to the window?"

"Naething o' the kind," replied David, briefly, but with the same calmness and composure as before. "I never got a bottle o' ale and a basket o' bread frae ye oot o' that window; I never sought anither frae ye; and I hae been only ance at that window this blessed nicht."

There was nae resistin belief to a disclaimer sae coolly, sae calmly, and sae pointedly made; and Jenny acknowledged this by immediately exclaimin, in the utmost dismay and alarm--

"Lord preserve me, then! wha was't that got them, and whar are they?"

Her queries were instantly answered.

"It was _me_ that got them, Jenny; and they're owre in yon corner yonder," said the minister, in a loud whisper, and now thrustin his head oot o' the window.

Jenny looked up for an instant in horror, uttered a loud scream, and fled. David looked up, too, for a second, and then set after her as fast as he could birr; leavin the facetious, but worthy minister in convulsions o' laughter.

"And that, my freends," here said the merry landlord, "is the story o' the minister o' Kirkfodden and his servant lass, as tauld to me by my guid freend, Andrew, here"--laying his hand kindly on the shoulder of the person he alluded to. The narrator was rewarded for his story, or rather for his manner of telling it--for in this art he excelled--by a continued roar of laughter from his auditory. When this had subsided--

"Come now," he said, "put in yer glasses. The best story's no the waur o' a weetin. It looks as weel again through a glass o' toddy."

The invitation thus humorously given was at once obeyed. In a twinkling a circle of empty glasses, like a _garde du corps_, surrounded the bowl, and were soon replenished, with a dexterity and skill which long practice alone could have given the artist. His well-practised hand and arm skimmed the ponderous vessel as lightly over the glasses as if it had been a cream-pot; filling each of the latter as it went along to exactly the same height--not a drop in or over--with a precision that was truly beautiful to behold.

The glasses, which had thus been scientifically filled, having been again emptied, the landlord suddenly fixed his look on another of his guests, who was sitting up in one of the furthest corners, by the fireside, and to whom his attention had been directed, by observing him musing and smiling at intervals, as if tickled by the suggestions of his imagination. He rightly took them for symptoms of a story, and acted upon this impression.

"James," he said, addressing the person alluded to, who was at the moment gazing abstractedly on the fire, "if I'm no mistaen, ye hae something to tell that micht amuse us. Ye're lookin like it, at ony rate, if that smirk at the corner o' yer mouth has ony intelligence in't."

James turned round, and, with a smile that was gradually acquiring breadth, said that he was "thinkin aboot Tam Brodie and the kirn."

"I was sure o't," exclaimed the landlord, triumphantly. "What aboot Tam and the kirn, James?"

"There's little in't," replied the other; "but I'll tell it for the guid o' the company." And he immediately went on:--I daresay the maist o' ye here ken Tam Brodie o' the Broomhouse; and them that dinna may now learn that he's a sma' farmer, as weel as unco sma' man, in a certain part o' Annandale. He is in but very indifferent circumstances, and has, on the whole, a sair struggle wi' the warld; but this is no to hinder him, as how should it, frae haein a maist extraordinar fondness for cream; but it ought to hinder him frae takin every opportunity, which he does, o' his wife's bein oot o' the way, to steal frae his ain kirn, to the serious detriment o' his ain interest. His wife entertains the same opinion; for she's obliged to watch him like a cat; and, when she does catch him at the forbidden vessel, or discovers that it has been there--which she often does, by the ring about his mouth, when she has come so suddenly on him as no to gie him time to remove the evidence--she does pepper him sweetly wi' the first thing that comes to her haun; for she's a trimmer, though a weel-behaved, hard-workin woman. A' her watchfuness, however, and a' the wappins she could gie her husband, could neither cure him o' his propensity, nor prevent him indulgin it whenever he thought he could do it without bein detected.

It happened ae day, that Mrs Brodie had some errand to a neighbourin farmhouse, which she behoved to execute personally. Having dressed hersel a little better than ordinary for this purpose, she cam to her husband, who was at the moment delvin in the kail-yard behind the house, told him where she was gaun, and desired him to look after the weans till her return. This task, Tam, of course, readily undertook, and continued to delve awa as composedly as if his wife's proposed absence had suggested nae ither idea to him. He, in short, looked as innocent of a sinister purpose as a man could do; although at that very moment the cunnin little rascal's mind was fu' o' the idea o' makin a dive at the kirn, the moment the wife's back was turned. And he soon made these evil intentions manifest aneugh. While his wife was speakin to him, leavin the bairns in his charge, Tam never raised his head, but continued delvin awa wi' great assiduity. He was, in fact, afraid to lift his head, for fear that his wife should discover his joy on his countenance, and tak some means o' bafflin his designs. Although, however, he didna raise his head while she was speakin to him, he did it the instant she left him. While continuin bent as if in the act o' workin, he looked after her till she disappeared down a brae, at the distance o' aboot a hundred yards, when he stood erect, stuck his spade in the ground, and went wi' deliberate step into the hoose. This deliberation, however, did not proceed so much from a consciousness o' security, as to prevent excitin suspicion o' his ain weans, whom he did not wish to trust wi' the secret o' his intended depredations on the kirn, for fear they should tell their mother, as, had they known it, they certainly would--perhaps not deliberately, but they would blab it. This risk, therefore, he resolved not to run. On enterin the kitchen whar the weans war, to the number o' three or four--

"What keeps ye a' in the hoose sic a nice bonny day as this?" said he; "awa and play yersels in the yard for a wee; and, as I'm wearied, and gaun to rest mysel, ye can come and tell me whan ye see yer mither comin. Ye can see her, ye ken, frae the tap o' the yard a lang way aff. Now," he said, addressin the last o' the urchins, as they scampered oot, in obedience to their father's commands--"now mind, and let me ken _the moment_ your mither comes in sicht." The boy promised, and rushed out after his brothers and sisters. The coast was now clear; Tam's progress thus far was triumphant. He had never had before sae fair a field for operations, and he felt a' the satisfaction that his happy situation was capable o' affordin.