"Dickie," I said, "are you and I to be friends or not?"
He hesitated for a moment, then he took my hand.
"Friends," he said weakly, and his eyes filled with tears. Then I knew
that I had not been mistaken in thinking that there was much good in the
boy.
Having made it up with Dickie I set off with a light heart to attend a
meeting of the Gifts for Local Soldiers Committee. The chairman was
absent and I was invited to take the chair. Bill Watson brought forward
a motion that the Committee should get up a concert to provide funds.
"Mr. Watson's proposal is that we arrange a concert," I said. "Is there
any seconder?"
"Aweel," said Andrew Findlay, "Aw think that a concert wud be a verra
guid thing. The nichts is beginnin' to draw in, and it wud be best to
hae it as soon as possible. The tatties will be on in twa three days."
"The proposal is seconded. Any amendment, gentlemen?"
"Man," said Peter MacMannish the cobbler, "man, Aw was just lookin' at
Lappiedub's tatties the nicht. Man, yon's a dawmed guid crap."
"Them that's in the wast field is better," said Andrew.
"But the best crap o' wheat Aw seen the year," said Dauvid Peters, "was
Torrydyke's."
"Any amendment, gentlemen?"
"Torrydyke ay has graund wheat," said Peter. "D'ye mind yon
year--ninety-sax ... or was it ninety-seeven?--man, they tell me that he
made a pile o' siller that year."
"Ninety-sax," growled William Mackenzie the farmer of Brigend, "it was
ninety-sax, for Aw mind that my broon coo dee'd that summer."
"Aw mind o' her," nodded Andrew, "grass disease, wasn't it?"
"Aye," said Mackenzie. "Aw sent to Lochars for the vet but he was awa
frae hame. Syne Aw sent a telegram to the Wanners vet, and when he cam
he says to me, says he--"
"Any amendment, gentlemen?" I said.
"Goad, lads," said Andrew sitting up in his chair, "we'll hae to get on
wi' the business."
"No amendment," I said. "Are we all agreed about this concert?" and they
grunted their assent.
"And now we'll settle the date," I said briskly.
Peter MacMannish looked over at Mackenzie.
"When are ye thinkin' o' killin' that black swine o' yours, John?" he
asked.
Mackenzie growled and shook his head.
"She's no fattenin' up as Aw cud wish to see her, Peter," he replied.
There followed an animated discussion of the merits and demerits of
various feeding-stuffs. After a two hours' sitting the Committee
unanimously appointed me secretary and organiser of the concert. I was
given authority to fix a date and arrange a programme.
Attendance at many democratic meetings of this kind has led me to a
complete understanding of Parliament.
* * *
It is Sunday to-day. I sat reading in the afternoon and a knock came at
my bothy door.
"Come in!" I shouted, and Annie walked in.
"Me and Janet and Ellen are going for a walk over the hill, and we
thocht you might like to come too."
"Certainly!" I cried, and I threw Shaw's latest volume of plays into the
bed.
"Margaret's wi' us too," said Annie as if it were an afterthought.
There was a fight for my arms.
"Annie was first," I said, "and we'll toss up for the other arm."
"Let Margaret get it," said Janet mischievously, and Margaret's nose
went almost imperceptibly higher in the air.
"Excellent!" I said, and I took her arm and placed it through mine.
Janet and Ellen walked behind, and they sniggered a good deal.
"Just fancy the mester noo!" said Janet, "linkit wi' Maggie! He'll hae
to marry her noo, Ellen!" And poor Margaret became very red and began to
talk at a great rate.
"G'wa, Jan," I heard Ellen say, "he's far ower auld. Maggie's only
twenty next month, and he's--he could be her faither."
"He's no very auld, Ellen; he hasna a mootache yet!"
"Aw wudna like a man wi' a mootache, Jan; Liz Macqueen says that she
gave up Jock Wilson cos his mootache was ower kittly."
"Weel, she was tellin' a big lee," said Janet firmly. "If she loved him
she wud ha' telt him to shave it off."
We lay down in the wood at the top of the hill. Annie was in a
reminiscent mood.
"D'ye mind the letters we used to write to one another?" she asked.