John's remark. "See, there," she said, holding up a fragment of one of
the broken vessels, "there's the end o' my bonny cheeny jug, that I was
sae vogie o', and that hadna its neebor in braid Scotland." And a tear
glistened in the eye of the susceptible mourner, as she contemplated the
melancholy remains, and recalled to memory the departed splendours of
the ill-fated tankard. Quietly dashing, however, the tear of sorrow
aside, both her person and spirit assumed the lofty attitude of
determined vengeance; and, "_she'll_ rue this," she now went on, "if
there be ony law or justice in the kingdom. It'll be a dear jug to
_her_, or my name's no what it is."
Equally indignant with his wife at the assault and battery committed by
the Callenders, but less talkative, John sat quietly ruminating on the
events of the evening, and, anon, still continuing to raise his hand, at
intervals, to his mangled countenance. With the same taciturnity, he
subsequently assisted Mrs. Anderson to throw the collected fragments of
the broken dishes into a hamper, and to carry and deposit said hamper in
an adjoining closet, where, it was determined, they should be carefully
kept as evidence of the extent of the damage which had been sustained.
In the meantime, neither Mrs. Thomas Callender nor Mr. Thomas Callender
felt by any means at ease respecting the crockery catastrophe. Although
feeling that it was a mere casualty of war, and an unforeseen and
unpremeditated result of a fair and equal contest, they yet could not
help entertaining some vague apprehension for the consequences. They
felt, in short, that it might be made a question whether they were not
liable for the damage done, seeing that they had intruded themselves
into their neighbour's house, where they had no right to go. It was
under some such awkward fear as this that Mr. Callender, who had also
obtained an evasive account of the cause of quarrel, said, with an
unusually long and grave face, to his wife, on their gaining their own
house, and holding, at the same time, a handkerchief to his still
bleeding and now greatly swollen proboscis--
"Yon was a deevil o' a stramash, Mirran. I never heard the like o't. It
was awfu'. I think I hear the noise o' the crashing plates and bowls in
my lugs yet."
"Deil may care! Let them tak it!" replied Mrs. Callender, endeavouring
to assume a disregard of consequences, which she was evidently very far
from feeling. "She was aye owre vain o' her crockery; so that better
couldna happen her."
"Ay," replied her husband; "but yon smashing o't was rather a serious
business."
"It was just music to my lugs, then," said Mrs. Callender, boldly.
"Maybe," rejoined her husband, "but I doot we'll hae to pay the piper.
They'll try't ony way, I'm jalousin."
"Let them. There'll be nae law or justice in the country if they mak
that oot," responded Mrs. Callender, and exhibiting, in this sentiment,
the very striking difference of opinion between the two ladies, of the
law and justice of the land.
The fears, however, which Mr. Callender openly expressed, as above
recorded, and which his wife felt but concealed, were not groundless. On
the evening of the very next day after the battle of the nightcaps, as
Thomas Callender was sitting in his elbow-chair by the fire, luxuriously
enjoying its grateful warmth, and the ease and comfort of his slippers
and red nightcap, which he had drawn well down over his ears, he was
suddenly startled by a sharp, loud rap at the door. Mrs. Callender
hastened to open it, when two papers were thrust into her hands by an
equivocal-looking personage, who, without saying a word, wheeled round
on his heel the instant he had placed the mysterious documents in her
possession, and hastened away.
With some misgivings as to the contents of these papers, Mrs. Callender
placed them before her husband.
"What's this?" said the latter, with a look of great alarm, and placing
his spectacles on his nose, preparatory to a deliberate perusal of the
suspicious documents. His glasses wiped and adjusted, Thomas unfolded
the papers, held them up close to the candle, and found them to be a
couple of summonses, one for himself and one for his wife. These
summonses, we need hardly say, were at the instance of their neighbour,
John Anderson, and exhibited a charge of assault and battery, and claim
for damages, to the extent of two pounds fourteen shillings sterling,
for demolition of certain articles of stoneware, &c. &c. &c.
"Ay," said Thomas, laying down the fatal papers. "Faith, here it is,
then! We're gaun to get it ruch an roun', noo, Mirran. I was dootin
this. But we'll defen', we'll defen'," added Thomas, who was, or, we
rather suspect, imagined himself to be, a bit of a lawyer, ever since
the affair of the duck-dub, during which he had picked up some law
terms, but without any accompanying knowledge whatever of their import
or applicability. "We'll defen', we'll defen'," he said, with great
confidence of manner, "and gie them a revised condescendence for't that
they'll fin gayan teuch to chow. But we maun obey the ceetation, in the
first place, to prevent decreet in absence, whilk wad gie the pursuer,
in this case, everything his ain way."
"Defen'!" exclaimed Mrs. Callender, with high indignation; "my faith,
that we wull, I warrant them, and maybe a hantle mair. We'll maybe no be
content wi' defendin, but strike oot, and gar _them_ staun aboot."
"Noo, there ye show yer ignorance o' the law, Mirran," said her husband,
with judicial gravity; "for ye see"----
"Tuts, law or no law," replied Mrs. Callender, impatiently--"I ken
what's justice and common sense; an' that's aneuch for me. An' justice
I'll hae, Tam," she continued, with such an increase of excitement as
brought on the usual climax in such cases, of striking one of her
clenched hands on her open palm--"An' justice I will hae, Tam, on thae
Andersons, if it's to be had for love or money."
"We'll try't, ony way," said her husband, folding up the summonses, and
putting them carefully into his breeches pocket. "Since it has come to
this, we'll gie them law for't."
In the spirit and temper of bold defiance expressed in the preceding
colloquy, Mr. Callender and his wife awaited the day and hour appointed
for their appearance in the Sheriff Court at Glasgow. This day and hour
in due time came, and, when it did, it found both parties, pursuers and
defenders, in the awful presence of the judge. Both the ladies were
decked out in their best and grandest attire, while each of their
husbands rejoiced in his Sunday's suit. It was a great occasion for both
parties. On first recognising each other, the ladies exchanged looks
which were truly edifying to behold. Mrs. Anderson's was that of calm,
dignified triumph; and which, if translated into her own vernacular,
would have said, "My word, lass, but ye'll fin whar ye are noo." Mrs.
Callender's, again, was that of bold defiance, and told of a spirit that
was unconquerable--game to the last being the most strongly marked and
leading expression, at this interesting moment, of her majestic
countenance. Close beside where Mrs. Anderson sat, and evidently under
her charge, there stood an object which, from the oddness of its
appearing in its present situation, attracted a good deal of notice, and
excited some speculation amongst those present in the court, and which
particularly interested Mrs. Callender and her worthy spouse. This was a
hamper--a very large one. People wondered what could be in it, and for
what purpose it was there. They could solve neither of these problems;
but the reader can, we dare say. He will at once conjecture--and, if he
does so, he will conjecture rightly--that the hamper in question
contained the remains of the smashables spoken of formerly at some
length, and that it was to be produced in court by the pursuers, as
evidence of the nature and extent of the damage done.
The original idea of bringing forward this article, for the purpose
mentioned, was Mrs. Anderson's; and, having been approved of by her
husband, it had been that morning carted to the court-house, and
thereafter carried to and deposited in its present situation by the
united exertions of the pursuers, who relied greatly on the effect it
would produce when its lid should be thrown open, and the melancholy
spectacle of demolished crockery it concealed exhibited.
The case of Mr. and Mrs. Anderson _versus_ Mr. and Mrs. Callender being
pretty far down in the roll, it was nearly two hours before it was
called. This event, however, at length took place. The names of the
pursuers and defenders resounded through the court room, in the slow,
drawling, nasal-toned voice of the crier. Mrs. Anderson, escorted by her
loving spouse, sailed up the middle of the apartment, and placed herself
before the judge. With no less dignity of manner, and with, at least, an
equal stateliness of step, Mrs. Callender, accompanied by her lord and
master, sailed up after her, and took her place a little to one side.
The parties being thus arranged, proceedings commenced. Mrs. Anderson
was asked to state her case; Mrs. Anderson was not slow to accept the
invitation. She at once began:--
"Ye see, my lord, sir, the matter was just this--and I daur _her_ there"
(a look of intense defiance at Mrs. Callender) "to deny a word, my lord,
sir, o' what I'm gaun to say; although I daur say she wad do't if she
could."
"My good woman," here interposed the judge, who had a nervous
apprehension of the forensic eloquence of such female pleaders as the
one now before him, "will you have the goodness to confine yourself
strictly to a simple statement of your case?"
"Weel, my lord, sir, I will. Ye see, then, the matter is just this."
And Mrs. Anderson forthwith proceeded to detail the particulars of the
quarrel and subsequent encounter, with a minuteness and
circumstantiality which, we fear, the reader would think rather tedious
were we here to repeat. In this statement of her case, Mrs. Anderson,
having the fear of her husband's presence before her eyes, made no
allusion whatever to the nightcaps, but rested the whole quarrel on the
jelly pot. Now, this was a circumstance which Mrs. Callender noted, and
of which she, on the instant, determined to take a desperate advantage.
Regardless of all consequences, and, amongst the rest, of discovering to
her husband the underhand part she had been playing in regard to the
affair of the nightcap, she resolved on publicly exposing, as she
imagined, the falsehood and pride of her hated rival, by stating the
facts of the case as to the celebrated nightcaps. To this revenge she
determined on sacrificing every other consideration. To return, however,
in the meantime, to the proceedings in court.
The statements of the pursuers being now exhausted, the defenders were
called upon to give their version of the story. On this summons, both
Mrs. Callender and her husband pressed themselves into a central
position, with the apparent intention of both entering on the defences
at the same time. And this proved to be the fact. On being specially and
directly invited by the judge to open the case--
"Ye see, my lord," began Mr. Thomas Callender; and--
"My lord, sir, ye see," began, at the same instant, _Mrs._ Thomas
Callender.
"Now, now," here interposed the judge, waving his hand impatiently, "one
at a time, if you please. One at a time."
"Surely," replied Mr. Callender. "Staun aside, guidwife, staun aside,"
he said; at the same time gently pushing his wife back with his left
hand as he spoke. _"I'll_ lay doon the case to his lordship."
"Ye'll do nae sic a thing, Thomas; _I'll_ do't," exclaimed Mrs.
Callender, not only resisting her husband's attempt to thrust her into
the rear, but forcibly placing _him_ in that relative position; while
she herself advanced a pace or two nearer to the bench. On gaining this
vantage ground, Mrs. Callender at once began, and with great emphasis
and circumstantiality detailed the whole story of the nightcaps;
carefully modelling it so, however, as to show that her own part in the
transaction was a _bona fide_ proceeding; on the part of her rival, the
reverse; and that the whole quarrel, with its consequent demolition of
crockery, was entirely the result of Mrs. Anderson's "upsettin' pride,
and vanity, and jealousy." During the delivery of these details, the
court was convulsed with laughter, in which the sheriff himself had much
difficulty to refrain from joining.
On the husbands of the two women, however, they had a very different
effect. Amazed, confounded, and grievously affronted at this unexpected
disclosure of the ridiculous part they had been made to perform by their
respective wives, they both sneaked out of court, amidst renewed peals
of laughter, leaving the latter to finish the case the best way they
could. How this was effected we know not, as at this point ends our
story of the rival nightcaps.
END OF VOL III
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| Transcriber's note: |
| |
| Inconsistent spelling and punctuation were |
| not changed. |
| |
| TOC: Changed Pheebe to Phebe |
| Page 3 Changed throroughly to thoroughly |
| Page 34 Changed gripe to grip |
| Page 42 Changed Engglish to English |
| Page 90 Changes transsport to transport |
| Page 161 Changed Nanny to Nancy |
| Page 173 Changed Mause to Maudge |
| Page 173 Changed phrophetic to prophetic |
| Page 174 Changed rythmic to rhythmic |
| Page 206 Changed unconcious to unconscious |
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