XIX.--THE POOR THING.

There was a man in the islands who fished for his bare bellyful, and took

his life in his hands to go forth upon the sea between four planks. But

though he had much ado, he was merry of heart; and the gulls heard him

laugh when the spray met him. And though he had little lore, he was

sound of spirit; and when the fish came to his hook in the mid-waters, he

blessed God without weighing. He was bitter poor in goods and bitter

ugly of countenance, and he had no wife.

It fell in the time of the fishing that the man awoke in his house about

the midst of the afternoon. The fire burned in the midst, and the smoke

went up and the sun came down by the chimney. And the man was aware of

the likeness of one that warmed his hands at the red peats.

"I greet you," said the man, "in the name of God."

"I greet you," said he that warmed his hands, "but not in the name of

God, for I am none of His; nor in the name of Hell, for I am not of Hell.

For I am but a bloodless thing, less than wind and lighter than a sound,

and the wind goes through me like a net, and I am broken by a sound and

shaken by the cold."

"Be plain with me," said the man, "and tell me your name and of your

nature."

"My name," quoth the other, "is not yet named, and my nature not yet

sure. For I am part of a man; and I was a part of your fathers, and went

out to fish and fight with them in the ancient days. But now is my turn

not yet come; and I wait until you have a wife, and then shall I be in

your son, and a brave part of him, rejoicing manfully to launch the boat

into the surf, skilful to direct the helm, and a man of might where the

ring closes and the blows are going."

"This is a marvellous thing to hear," said the man; "and if you are

indeed to be my son, I fear it will go ill with you; for I am bitter poor

in goods and bitter ugly in face, and I shall never get me a wife if I

live to the age of eagles."

"All this hate I come to remedy, my Father," said the Poor Thing; "for we

must go this night to the little isle of sheep, where our fathers lie in

the dead-cairn, and to-morrow to the Earl's Hall, and there shall you

find a wife by my providing."

So the man rose and put forth his boat at the time of the sunsetting; and

the Poor Thing sat in the prow, and the spray blew through his bones like

snow, and the wind whistled in his teeth, and the boat dipped not with

the weight of him.

"I am fearful to see you, my son," said the man. "For methinks you are

no thing of God."

"It is only the wind that whistles in my teeth," said the Poor Thing,

"and there is no life in me to keep it out."

So they came to the little isle of sheep, where the surf burst all about

it in the midst of the sea, and it was all green with bracken, and all

wet with dew, and the moon enlightened it. They ran the boat into a

cove, and set foot to land; and the man came heavily behind among the

rocks in the deepness of the bracken, but the Poor Thing went before him

like a smoke in the light of the moon. So they came to the dead-cairn,

and they laid their ears to the stones; and the dead complained

withinsides like a swarm of bees: "Time was that marrow was in our bones,

and strength in our sinews; and the thoughts of our head were clothed

upon with acts and the words of men. But now are we broken in sunder,

and the bonds of our bones are loosed, and our thoughts lie in the dust."

Then said the Poor Thing: "Charge them that they give you the virtue they

withheld".

And the man said: "Bones of my fathers, greeting! for I am sprung of your

loins. And now, behold, I break open the piled stones of your cairn, and

I let in the noon between your ribs. Count it well done, for it was to

be; and give me what I come seeking in the name of blood and in the name

of God."

And the spirits of the dead stirred in the cairn like ants; and they

spoke: "You have broken the roof of our cairn and let in the noon between

our ribs; and you have the strength of the still-living. But what virtue

have we? what power? or what jewel here in the dust with us, that any

living man should covet or receive it? for we are less than nothing. But

we tell you one thing, speaking with many voices like bees, that the way

is plain before all like the grooves of launching: So forth into life and

fear not, for so did we all in the ancient ages." And their voices

passed away like an eddy in a river.

"Now," said the Poor Thing, "they have told you a lesson, but make them

give you a gift. Stoop your hand among the bones without drawback, and

you shall find their treasure."

So the man stooped his hand, and the dead laid hold upon it many and

faint like ants; but he shook them off, and behold, what he brought up in

his hand was the shoe of a horse, and it was rusty.

"It is a thing of no price," quoth the man, "for it is rusty."

"We shall see that," said the Poor Thing; "for in my thought it is a good

thing to do what our fathers did, and to keep what they kept without

question. And in my thought one thing is as good as another in this

world; and a shoe of a horse will do."

Now they got into their boat with the horseshoe, and when the dawn was

come they were aware of the smoke of the Earl's town and the bells of the

Kirk that beat. So they set foot to shore; and the man went up to the

market among the fishers over against the palace and the Kirk; and he was

bitter poor and bitter ugly, and he had never a fish to sell, but only a

shoe of a horse in his creel, and it rusty.

"Now," said the Poor Thing, "do so and so, and you shall find a wife and

I a mother."

It befell that the Earl's daughter came forth to go into the Kirk upon

her prayers; and when she saw the poor man stand in the market with only

the shoe of a horse, and it rusty, it came in her mind it should be a

thing of price.

"What is that?" quoth she.

"It is a shoe of a horse," said the man.

"And what is the use of it?" quoth the Earl's daughter.

"It is for no use," said the man.

"I may not believe that," said she; "else why should you carry it?"

"I do so," said he, "because it was so my fathers did in the ancient

ages; and I have neither a better reason nor a worse."

Now the Earl's daughter could not find it in her mind to believe him.

"Come," quoth she, "sell me this, for I am sure it is a thing of price."

"Nay," said the man, "the thing is not for sale."

"What!" cried the Earl's daughter. "Then what make you here in the

town's market, with the thing in your creel and nought beside?"

"I sit here," says the man, "to get me a wife."

"There is no sense in any of these answers," thought the Earl's daughter;

"and I could find it in my heart to weep."

By came the Earl upon that; and she called him and told him all. And

when he had heard, he was of his daughter's mind that this should be a

thing of virtue; and charged the man to set a price upon the thing, or

else be hanged upon the gallows; and that was near at hand, so that the

man could see it.

"The way of life is straight like the grooves of launching," quoth the

man. "And if I am to be hanged let me be hanged."

"Why!" cried the Earl, "will you set your neck against a shoe of a horse,

and it rusty?"

"In my thought," said the man, "one thing is as good as another in this

world and a shoe of a horse will do."

"This can never be," thought the Earl; and he stood and looked upon the

man, and bit his beard.

And the man looked up at him and smiled. "It was so my fathers did in

the ancient ages," quoth he to the Earl, "and I have neither a better

reason nor a worse."

"There is no sense in any of this," thought the Earl, "and I must be

growing old." So he had his daughter on one side, and says he: "Many

suitors have you denied, my child. But here is a very strange matter

that a man should cling so to a shoe of a horse, and it rusty; and that

he should offer it like a thing on sale, and yet not sell it; and that he

should sit there seeking a wife. If I come not to the bottom of this

thing, I shall have no more pleasure in bread; and I can see no way, but

either I should hang or you should marry him."

"By my troth, but he is bitter ugly," said the Earl's daughter. "How if

the gallows be so near at hand?"

"It was not so," said the Earl, "that my fathers did in the ancient ages.

I am like the man, and can give you neither a better reason nor a worse.

But do you, prithee, speak with him again."

So the Earl's daughter spoke to the man. "If you were not so bitter

ugly," quoth she, "my father the Earl would have us marry."

"Bitter ugly am I," said the man, "and you as fair as May. Bitter ugly I

am, and what of that? It was so my fathers--"

"In the name of God," said the Earl's daughter, "let your fathers be!"

"If I had done that," said the man, "you had never been chaffering with

me here in the market, nor your father the Earl watching with the end of

his eye."

"But come," quoth the Earl's daughter, "this is a very strange thing,

that you would have me wed for a shoe of a horse, and it rusty."

"In my thought," quoth the man, "one thing is as good--"

"Oh, spare me that," said the Earl's daughter, "and tell me why I should

marry."

"Listen and look," said the man.

Now the wind blew through the Poor Thing like an infant crying, so that

her heart was melted; and her eyes were unsealed, and she was aware of

the thing as it were a babe unmothered, and she took it to her arms, and

it melted in her arms like the air.

"Come," said the man, "behold a vision of our children, the busy hearth,

and the white heads. And let that suffice, for it is all God offers."

"I have no delight in it," said she; but with that she sighed.

"The ways of life are straight like the grooves of launching," said the

man; and he took her by the hand.

"And what shall we do with the horseshoe?" quoth she.

"I will give it to your father," said the man; "and he can make a kirk

and a mill of it for me."

It came to pass in time that the Poor Thing was born; but memory of these

matters slept within him, and he knew not that which he had done. But he

was a part of the eldest son; rejoicing manfully to launch the boat into

the surf, skilful to direct the helm, and a man of might where the ring

closes and the blows are going.

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