Another evening Miss Guthrie requested me to introduce my old
lady to Captain Alexander Lindsay, a son of the late Laird of
Kinblethmont, and brother to the present Mr. Lindsay Carnegie,
and Mr. Sandford, the late Sir Daniel Sandford.
She came as a Mrs. Ramsay Speldin, an old sweetheart of the
laird's, and was welcomed by Mrs. Guthrie as a friend of the
family. The young people hailed her as a perfectly delightful
old lady, and an original of the pure Scottish character, and to
the laird she was endeared by a thousand pleasing recollections.
He placed her beside himself on the sofa, and they talked of the
days gone by--before the green parks of Craigie were redeemed
from the muir of Gotterston, and ere there was a tree planted
between the auld house of Craigie and the Castle of Claypotts.
She spoke of the "gude auld times, when the laird of Fintry
widna gie his youngest dochter to Abercairney, but tell'd him to
tak them as God had gien them to him, or want."
"And do you mind," she continued, "the grand ploys we had at the
Middleton; and hoo Mrs. Scott of Gilhorn used to grind lilts out
o' an auld kist to wauken her visitors i' the mornin'.
"And some o' them didna like it sair, tho' nane o' them had
courage to tell her sae, but Anny Graham o' Duntrune.
"'Lord forgie ye,' said Mrs. Scott, 'ye'll no gae to heaven, if
ye dinna like music;' but Anny was never at a loss for an
answer, and she said, 'Mrs. Scott--heaven's no the place I tak
it to be, if there be auld wives in 't playing on hand-organs.'"
Many a story did Mrs. Ramsay tell. The party drew their chairs
close to the sofa, and many a joke she related, till the room
rung again with the merriment, and the laird, in ecstasy, caught
her round the waist, exclaiming "Oh! ye are a canty wifie."
The strangers seemed to think so too; they absolutely hung upon
her, and she danced reels, first with the one, and then with the
other, till the entrance of a servant with the newspapers
produced a seasonable calm.
They lay, however, untouched upon the table till Mrs. Ramsay
requested some one to read over the claims that were putting in
for the King's coronation, and see if there was any mention of
hers.
"What is your claim?" said Mr. Sandford.
"To pyke the King's teeth," was the reply.
"You will think it very singular," said Mr. Guthrie, "that I
never heard of it before; will you tell us how it originated?"
"It was in the time of James the First," said she, "that monarch
cam to pay a visit to the monks of Arbroath, and they brought
him to Ferryden to eat a fish dinner at the house o' ane o' my
forefathers. The family name, ye ken, was Spelden, and the dried
fish was ca'd after them.
"The king was well satisfied wi' a' thing that was done to honor
him. He was a very polished prince, and when he had eaten his
dinner he turned round to the lady and sought a preen to pyke
his teeth.
"And the lady, she took a fish bane and wipit it, and gae it to
the king; and after he had cleaned his teeth wi' it, he said,
'_They're weel pykit._'
"And henceforth, continued he, the Speldins of Ferryden shall
pyke the king's teeth at the coronation. And it shall be done
wi' a fish-bone, and a pearl out o' the Southesk on the end of
it. And their crest shall be a lion's head wi' the teeth
displayed, and the motto shall be _weel pykit_."
Mr. Sandford read over the claims, but there was no notice given
of the Speldins.
"We maun just hae patience," said Mrs. Ramsay, "and nae doubt it
will appear in the next newspaper."
Some one inquired who was the present representative?
"It's me," replied Mrs. Ramsay Speldin; "and I mean to perform
the office mysel'. The estate wad hae been mine too, had it
existed; but Neptune, ye ken, is an ill neighbor, and the sea
has washed it a' away but a sand bunker or twa, and the house I
bide in at Ferryden."
At supper every one was eager to have a seat near Mrs. Ramsay
Speldin. She had a universal acquaintance, and she even knew Mr.
Sandford's mother, when he told her that her name was Catherine
Douglas. Mr. Sandford had in his own mind composed a letter to
Sir Walter Scott, which was to have been written and despatched
on the morrow, giving an account of this fine specimen of the
true Scottish character whom he had met in the county of Angus.
We meant to carry on the deception next morning, but the laird
was too happy for concealment. Before the door closed on the
good-night of the ladies, he had disclosed the secret, and
before we reached the top of the stairs, the gentlemen were
scampering at our heels like a pack of hounds in full cry.