Bailie Mucklescratch dwelt at Glasgow, in the Candleriggs. He was what
is called a "warm" man; that is, one who had rubbed on well in the
world, as indeed it is probable most of his customers did, the Scots
being a people celebrated for playing the rubber of life. The baillie
kept, in American phraseology, a "store"—in London vernacular, a
chandler's shop; a bazaar, whose staple consisted of oatmeal and red
herrings, esculents in great esteem north of Tweed. It has long been the
opprobrium of philosophy that no satisfactory reasons have been assigned
for the proneness, in Caledonia, towards porridge and salt fish. With
unqualified satisfaction the announcement is here made that their large
pewter Minerva medal will be presented, at the next meeting of the
British Association, for the best treatise on the "causes and effects"
of a taste, evident on the most superficial glance at the natives of
that country. He also kept an only son, Sandy Macalister Mucklescratch,
who kept——but that is not part of our present affair.
Now, though the elder Mucklescratch evinced no ambition in selecting a
worldly position for himself, he had an _itching_ about the appearance
of his _heir_. To this end, after a course of "humanities" at home, he
consigned him to a member of the College of Surgeons, an establishment
renowned for the sobriety and decorum of its disciples. No youth since
the days of Esculapius was ever in so fair a way to dignify the
profession of medicine as the young Glasgovian, if his own account was
to be believed; and who was so likely to possess the real facts of the
case? To be sure, the honour was not attained free of expense; but could
it enter even the heart of a Scottish chandler to suppose that his son
might carve at the same table with Sir Benjamin Brodie, or Sir Astley
Cooper, without sharing the cost of the entertainment. Day by day
_accounts_ arrived from the medical student; those who observed their
effects upon the receiver might have concluded they were not quite
satisfactory; but what could be expected from an old fellow who lived
upon "cock-a-leekie" in the Candleriggs? Fortunately, some of these
letters have been preserved; we copy one, to show the progress made by
the writer in other composition as well as that peculiar to _Materia
Medica_.
"Governor,—Science can't be purchased without dibbs. When we want
_subjects_, we must _shell-out_. My share, for next lecture night
(as there will only be four of us), will take the shine out of a ten
pound stiff. Send the price of the spread, old trump, to your
dutiful son,
"SANDY."
However well calculated such studies might have been to procure
_patients_ for the son, they dealt differently with the _patience_ of
the father. Indeed, it can hardly be held unreasonable that a man who
had existed for half a century on fourpence a day should feel a little
disposed to inform himself how ten sovereigns could be required for the
fourth of a supper bill. Full of this natural curiosity, the man of
_groats_ went to Edinburgh, embarked _smack_ for London, and presently
domiciled himself on a lower floor in the neighbourhood of Upper Gower
Street, where, as the bill in the window implied, "gentlemen were taken
in, and done for." The traveller was weary: with his nightcap mounted,
and his chamber's light ignited, he was about to seek Nature's restorer.
What scared him from his purpose?
The clock had told ten, and in the drawing-room apartments vertical,
four of the "Won't-go-home-till-morning" club assembled to pass the
_day_. "Gentlemen," shouted the chairman, "here's CONFUSION TO ALL
ORDER! Now the Charter chant, if you please, with honours." Then rose
the company, and while each executed a rigadoon to his particular taste,
all pealed forth in chorus—
"Long life to jolly drinking!
Send round the wine like winking:
The liquor's free,
And so are we—
Hurrah! for jolly drinking!"
Thus, from night to morn the carouse continued, and each returning sun
was the signal for its repetition. There was but a choice of evils for
the ground-floor tenant—to remain where he was, and be killed by the
inch, or rather, _by the foot_, or pay a se'nnight's rent for a night's
lodging—which would have _despatched him_ at once. All day did the
miserable meal-man seek his hopeful, with sorrow, and no success, and
all night (truth compels the confession) over the sire's head did the
son perform the dance of death. A shocking bad life was "Sandie"
leading: both the elder and the younger Scot were pursuing the M.D.
after a fashion _Maximé Deflendum_. The week ended, leaving the Glasgow
magistrate with just enough of life to assist him back to the
Candleriggs. A trusty friend in the Great Metropolis, however, was
commissioned to discover the retreat of the prodigal, and compass his
restoration to the disconsolate parent. After a time, and a rigid
stoppage of supplies, this was effected; and Macalister Mucklescratch's
career of dissipation ended, as many a similar course has terminated, in
_his being sent to the Old Baillie_!
* * * * *
Far north as he was born, the ancient Scot had a warm heart. Kindness
worked its accustomed office; and it was not long before the prodigal
son became the pride and comfort of his father's house. A pleasant thing
it is to see the pair seated together, and hear the old man, with
glistening eyes, repeat his especial _bon mot_. "Eh, Sandie, my lad,
when you and I were practising 'ABOVE' 'BELOW,' wha would ha' thought it
would have ended in
'ALL'S WELL!'"