THE SOUTERS OF SELKIRK.
I have heard an amusing story of a young man whose name happened to be
the same as that of the hero of the preceding chapter--George Dobson.
He was a shoemaker, a very honest man, who lived at the foot of an old
street, called the Back Row, in the town of Selkirk. He was upwards of
thirty, unmarried, had an industrious old stepmother, who kept house
for him, and of course George was what is called "a bein bachelor," or
"a chap that was gayan weel to leeve." He was a cheerful happy fellow,
and quite sober, except when on the town-council, when he sometimes
took a glass with the magistrates of his native old borough, of whose
loyalty, valour, and antiquity, there was no man more proud.
Well, one day, as George was sitting in his _shop_, as he called it,
(though no man now-a-days would call that a shop in which there was
nothing to sell,) sewing away at boots and shoes for his customers,
whom he could not half hold in whole leather, so great was the demand
over all the country for George Dobson's boots and shoes--he was
sitting, I say, plying away, and singing with great glee,--
"Up wi' the Souters o' Selkirk,
And down wi' the Earl o' Hume,
And up wi' a' the brave billies
That sew the single-soled shoon!
And up wi' the yellow, the yellow;
The yellow and green hae doon weel;
Then up wi' the lads of the Forest,
But down wi' the Merse to the deil!"
The last words were hardly out of George's mouth, when he heard a
great noise enter the Back Row, and among the voices one making loud
proclamation, as follows:--
"Ho yes!--Ho yes!
Souters ane, Souters a',
Souters o' the Back Raw,
There's a gentleman a-coming
Wha will ca' ye _Souters_ a'."
"I wish he durst," said George. "That will be the Earl o' Hume wha's
coming. He has had us at ill-will for several generations. Bring my
aik staff into the shop, callant, and set it down beside me here--and
ye may bring ane to yoursell too.--I say, callant, stop. Bring my
grandfather's auld sword wi' ye. I wad like to see the Earl o' Hume,
or ony o' his cronies, come and cast up our honest calling and
occupation till us!"
George laid his oak staff on the cutting-board before him, and leaned
the old two-edged sword against the wall, at his right hand. The noise
of the proclamation went out at the head of the Back Row, and died in
the distance; and then George began again, and sung the Souters of
Selkirk with more obstreperous glee than ever.--The last words were
not out of his mouth, when a grand gentleman stepped into the shop,
clothed in light armour, with a sword by his side and pistols in his
breast. He had a liveryman behind him, and both the master and man
were all shining in gold.--This is the Earl o' Hume in good earnest,
thought George to himself; but, nevertheless, he shall not danton me.
"Good morrow to you, Souter Dobson," said the gentleman. "What song is
that you were singing?"
George would have resented the first address with a vengeance, but the
latter question took him off it unawares, and he only answered, "It is
a very good sang, sir, and ane of the auldest--What objections have
you to it?"
"Nay, but what is it about?" returned the stranger; "I want to hear
what you say it is about."
"I'll sing you it over again, sir," said George, "and then you may
judge for yoursell. Our sangs up hereawa dinna speak in riddles and
parables; they're gayan downright;" and with that George gave it him
over again full birr, keeping at the same time a sharp look-out on
all his guest's movements; for he had no doubt now that it was to come
to an engagement between them, but he was determined not to yield an
inch, for the honour of old Selkirk.
When the song was done, however, the gentleman commended it, saying,
it was a spirited old thing, and, without doubt, related to some of
the early Border feuds. "But how think you the Earl of Hume would like
to hear this?" added he. George, who had no doubt all this while that
the Earl of Hume was speaking to him, said good-naturedly, "We dinna
care muckle, sir, whether the Earl o' Hume take the sang ill or weel.
I'se warrant he has heard it mony a time ere now, and, if he were
here, he wad hear it every day when the school looses, and Wattie
Henderson wad gie him it every night."
"Well, well, Souter Dobson, that is neither here nor there. That is
not what I called about. Let us to business. You must make me a pair
of boots in your very best style," said the gentleman, standing up,
and stretching forth his leg to be measured.
"I'll make you no boots, sir," said George, nettled at being again
called Souter. "I have as many regular customers to supply as hold me
busy from one year's end to the other. I cannot make your boots--you
may get them made where you please."
"You _shall_ make them, Mr Dobson," said the stranger; "I am
determined to try a pair of boots of your making, cost what they will.
Make your own price, but let me have the boots by all means; and,
moreover, I want them before to-morrow morning."
This was so conciliatory and so friendly of the Earl, that George,
being a good-natured fellow, made no farther objection, but took his
measure, and promised to have them ready. "I will pay them now," said
the gentleman, taking out a purse of gold; but George refused to
accept of the price till the boots were produced. "Nay, but I will pay
them now," said the gentleman; "for, in the first place, it will
ensure me of the boots, and, in the next place, I may probably leave
town to-night, and make my servant wait for them. What is the cost?"
"If they are to be as good as I can make them, sir, they will be
twelve shillings."
"Twelve shillings, Mr Dobson! I paid thirty-six for these I wear in
London, and I expect yours will be a great deal better. Here are two
guineas, and be sure to make them good."
"I cannot, for my life, make them worth the half of that money," said
George. "We have no materials in Selkirk that will amount to one-third
of it in value." However, the gentleman flung down the gold, and went
away, singing the Souters of Selkirk.
"He is a most noble fellow that Earl of Hume," said George to his
apprentice. "I thought he and I should have had a battle, but we have
parted on the best possible terms."
"I wonder how you could bide to be _Souter'd_ yon gate!" said the boy.
George scratched his head with the awl, bit his lip, and looked at his
grandfather's sword. He had a great desire to follow the insolent
gentleman; for he found that he had inadvertently suffered a great
insult without resenting it.
After George had shaped the boots with the utmost care, and of the
best and finest Kendal leather, he went up the Back Row to seek
assistance, so that he might have them ready at the stated time; but
never a stitch of assistance could George obtain, for the gentleman
had trysted a pair of boots in every shop in the Row, paid for them
all, and called every one of the shoemakers Souter twice over.
Never was there such a day in the Back Row of Selkirk! What could it
mean? Had the gentleman a whole regiment coming up, all of the same
size, and the same measure of leg? Or was he not rather an army agent,
come to take specimens of the best workmen in the country? This last
being the prevailing belief, every Selkirk Souter threw off his coat,
and fell a-slashing and cutting of Kendal leather; and such a
forenoon of cutting, and sewing, and puffing, and roseting, never was
in Selkirk since the battle of Flodden field.
George's shop was the nethermost of the street, so that the stranger
guests came all to him first; so, scarcely had he taken a hurried
dinner, and begun to sew again, and, of course, to sing, when in came
a fat gentleman, exceedingly well mounted with sword and pistols; he
had fair curled hair, red cheeks that hung over his stock, and a
liveryman behind him. "Merry be your heart, Mr Dobson! but what a
plague of a song is that you are singing?" said he. George looked very
suspicious-like at him, and thought to himself, Now I could bet any
man two gold guineas that this is the Duke of Northumberland, another
enemy to our town; but I'll not be cowed by him neither, only I could
have wished I had been singing another song when his Grace came into
the shop.--These were the thoughts that ran through George's mind in a
moment, and at length he made answer--"We reckon it a good sang, my
lord, and ane o' the auldest."
"Would it suit your convenience to sing that last verse over again?"
said the fat gentleman; and at the same time he laid hold of his
gold-handled pistols.
"O certainly, sir," said George; "but at the same time I must take a
lesson in manners from my superiors;" and with that he seized his
grandfather's cut-and-thrust sword, and cocking that up by his ear,
he sang out with fearless glee--
"The English are dolts, to a man, a man--
Fat puddings to fry in a pan, a pan--
Their Percys and Howards
We reckon but cowards--
But turn the Blue Bonnets wha can, wha can!"
George now set his joints in such a manner, that the moment the Duke
of Northumberland presented his pistol, he might be ready to cleave
him, or cut off his right hand, with his grandfathers cut-and-thrust
sword; but the fat gentleman durst not venture the issue--he took his
hand from his pistol, and laughed till his big sides shook. "You are a
great original, Dobson," said he; "but you are nevertheless a brave
fellow--a noble fellow--a Souter among a thousand, and I am glad I
have met with you in this mood too. Well, then, let us proceed to
business. You must make me a pair of boots in your very best style,
George, and that without any loss of time."
"O Lord, sir, I would do that with the greatest pleasure, but it is a
thing entirely out of my power," said George, with a serious face.
"Pooh, pooh! I know the whole story," said the fat gentleman. "You are
all hoaxed and made fools of this morning; but the thing concerns me
very much, and I'll give you five guineas, Mr Dobson, if you will
make me a pair of good boots before to-morrow at this time."
"I wad do it cheerfully for the fifth part o' the price, my lord,"
said George; "but it is needless to speak about that, it being out o'
my power. But what way are we hoaxed? I dinna account ony man made a
fool of wha has the cash in his pocket as weel as the goods in his
hand."
"You are all made fools of together, and I am the most made a fool of,
of any," said the fat gentleman. "I betted a hundred guineas with a
young Scottish nobleman last night, that he durst not go up the Back
Row of Selkirk, calling all the way,
'Souters ane, Souters a',
Souters o' the Back Raw;'
and yet, to my astonishment, you have let him do so, and insult you
all with impunity; and he has won."
"Confound the rascal!" exclaimed George. "If we had but taken him up!
But we took him for our friend, come to warn us, and lay all in wait
for the audacious fellow who was to come up behind."
"And a good amends you took of him when he came!" said the fat
gentleman. "Well, after I had taken the above bet, up speaks another
of our company, and he says--'Why make such account of a few poor
cobblers, or Souters, or how do you call them? I'll bet a hundred
guineas, that I'll go up the Back Row after that gentleman has set
them all agog, and I'll call every one of them _Souter_ twice to his
face.' I took the bet in a moment: 'You dare not, for your blood,
sir,' says I. 'You do not know the spirit and bravery of the men of
Selkirk. They will knock you down at once, if not tear you to pieces.'
But I trusted too much to your spirit, and have lost my two hundred
guineas, it would appear. Tell me, in truth, Mr Dobson, did you suffer
him to call you _Souter_ twice to your face without resenting it?"
George bit his lip, scratched his head with the awl, and gave the
lingles such a yerk, that he made them both crack in two. "D----n it!
we're a' affrontit thegither!" said he, in a half whisper, while the
apprentice-boy was like to burst with laughter at his master's
mortification.
"Well, I have lost my money," continued the gentleman; "but I assure
you, George, the gentleman wants no boots. He has accomplished his
purpose, and has the money in his pocket; but as it will avail me, I
may not say how much, I entreat that you will make me a pair. Here is
the money,--here are five guineas, which I leave in pledge; only let
me have the boots. Or suppose you make these a little wider, and
transfer them to me; that is very excellent leather, and will do
exceedingly well; I think I never saw better;" and he stood leaning
over George, handling the leather. "Now, do you consent to let me
have them?"
"I can never do that, my lord," says George, "having the other
gentleman's money in my pocket. If you should offer me ten guineas, it
would be the same thing."
"Very well, I will find those who will," said he, and off he went,
singing,
"Turn the Blue Bonnets wha can, wha can."
"This is the queerest day about Selkirk that I ever saw," said George;
"but really this Duke of Northumberland, to be the old hereditary
enemy of our town, is a real fine, frank fellow."
"Ay, but he _Souter'd_ ye, too," said the boy.
"It's a lee, ye little blackguard."
"I heard him ca' you a Souter amang a thousand, master; and that taunt
will be heard tell o' yet."
"I fancy, callant, we maun let that flee stick to the wa'," said
George; and sewed away, and sewed away, and got the boots finished
next day at twelve o'clock. Now, thought he to himself, I have thirty
shillings by this bargain, and so I'll treat our magistrates to a
hearty glass this afternoon; I hae muckle need o' a slockening, and
the Selkirk bailies never fail a friend.--George put his hand into his
pocket to clink his two gold guineas; but never a guinea was in
George's pocket, nor plack either! His countenance changed, and fell
so much, that the apprentice noticed it, and suspected the cause; but
George would confess nothing, though, in his own mind, he strongly
suspected the Duke of Northumberland of the theft, _alias_, the fat
gentleman with the fair curled hair, and the red cheeks hanging over
his stock.
George went away up among his brethren of the awl in the Back Row, and
called on them every one; but he soon perceived, from their blank
looks, and their disinclination to drink that night, that they were
all in the same predicament with himself. The fat gentleman with the
curled hair had visited every one of them, and got measure for a pair
of ten-guinea boots, but had not paid any of them; and, somehow or
other, every man had lost the price of the boots which he had received
in the morning. Whom to blame for this, nobody knew; for the whole day
over, and a good part of the night, from the time the proclamation was
made, the Back Row of Selkirk was like a cried fair; all the idle
people in the town and the country about were there, wondering after
the man who had raised such a demand for boots. After all, the Souters
of Selkirk were left neither richer nor poorer than they were at the
beginning, but every one of them had been four times called a _Souter_
to his face,--a title of great obloquy in that town, although the one
of all others that the townsmen ought to be proud of. And it is
curious that they are proud of it when used collectively; but apply it
to any of them as a term of reproach, and you had better call him the
worst name under heaven.
This was the truth of the story; and the feat was performed by the
late Duke of Queensberry, when Earl of March, and two English noblemen
then on a tour through this country. Every one of them gained his bet,
through the simplicity of the honest Souters; but certainly the last
had a difficult part to play, having staked two hundred guineas that
he would take all the money from the Souters that they had received
from the gentleman in the morning, and call every one of them _Souter_
to his face. He got the price entire from every one, save Thomas
Inglis, who had drunk the half of his before he got to him; but this
being proved, the English gentleman won.
George Dobson took the thing most amiss. He had been the first taken
in all along, and he thought a good deal about it. He was, moreover, a
very honest man, and in order to make up the boots to the full value
of the money he had received, he had shod them with silver, which took
two Spanish dollars, and he had likewise put four silver tassels to
the tops, so that they were splendid boots, and likely to remain on
his hand. In short, though he did not care about the loss, he took the
hoax very sore to heart.
Shortly after this, he was sitting in his shop, working away, and not
singing a word, when in comes a fat gentleman, with fair curled hair,
and red cheeks, but they were _not_ hanging over his cravat; and he
says, "Good morning, Dobson. You are very quiet and contemplative this
morning."
"Ay, sir; folk canna be aye alike merry."
"Have you any stomach for taking measure of a pair of boots this
morning?"
"Nah! I'll take measure o' nae mae boots to strangers; I'll stick by
my auld customers."--He is very like my late customer, thought George,
but his tongue is not the same. If I thought it were he, I would nick
him!
"I have heard the story of the boots, George," said the visitor, "and
never heard a better one. I have laughed very heartily at it; and I
called principally to inform you, that if you will call at Widow
Wilson's, in Hawick, you will get the price of your boots."
"Thank you, sir," said George; and the gentleman went away; Dobson
being now persuaded he was _not_ the Duke of Northumberland, though
astonishingly like him. George had not sewed a single yerking, ere the
gentleman came again into the shop, and said, "You had better measure
me for these boots, Dobson. I intend to be your customer in future."
"Thank you, sir, but I would rather not, just now."
"Very well; call then at Widow Wilson's, in Hawick, and you shall get
_double_ payment for the boots you have made."--George thanked him
again, and away he went; but in a very short space he entered the shop
again, and again requested George to measure him for a pair of boots.
George became suspicious of the gentleman, and rather uneasy, as he
continued to haunt him like a ghost; and so, merely to be quit of him,
he took the measure of his leg and foot. "It is very near the measure
of these fine silver-mounted ones, sir," said George; "you had better
just take them."
"Well, so be it," said the stranger. "Call at Widow Wilson's, in
Hawick, and you shall have _triple_ payment for your boots. Good day."
"O, this gentleman is undoubtedly wrong in his mind," said George to
himself. "This beats all the customers I ever met with! Ha--ha--ha!
Come to Widow Wilson's, and you shall have payment for your
boots,--double payment for your boots,--_triple_ payment for your
boots! Oh! the man's as mad as a March hare! He--he--he--he!"
"Hilloa, George," cried a voice close at his ear, "what's the matter
wi' ye? Are ye gane daft? Are ye no gaun to rise to your wark the
day?"
"Aich! Gudeness guide us, mother, am I no up yet?" cried George,
springing out of his bed; for he had been all the while in a sound
sleep, and dreaming. "What gart ye let me lie sae lang? I thought I
had been i' the shop!"
"Shop!" exclaimed she; "I daresay, then, you thought you had found a
fiddle in't. What were ye guffawing and laughing at?"
"O! I was laughing at a fat man, and the payment of a pair o' boots at
Widow Wilson's, in Hawick."
"Widow Wilson's, i' Hawick!" exclaimed his mother, holding up both her
hands; "Gude forgie me for a great leear, if I hae dreamed about ony
body else, frae the tae end o' the night to the tither!"
"Houts, mother, haud your tongue; it is needless to heed your dreams,
for ye never gie ower dreaming about somebody."
"And what for no, lad? Hasna an auld body as good a right to dream as
a young ane? Mrs Wilson's a throughgaun quean, and clears mair than a
hunder a-year by the Tannage. I'se warrant there sall something follow
thir dreams; I get the maist o' my dreams redd."
George was greatly tickled with his dream about the fat gentleman and
the boots, and so well convinced was he that there was some sort of
meaning in it, that he resolved to go to Hawick the next market day,
and call on Mrs Wilson, and settle with her; although it was a week or
two before his usual term of payment, he thought the money would
scarcely come wrong. So that day he plied and wrought as usual; but
instead of his favourite ditties relating to the Forest, he chanted,
the whole day over, one as old as any of them; but I am sorry I
recollect only the chorus and a few odd stanzas of it.
ROUND ABOUT HAWICK.
We'll round about Hawick, Hawick,
Round about Hawick thegither;
We'll round about Hawick, Hawick,
And in by the bride's gudemither.
Sing, Round about Hawick, &c.
And as we gang by we will rap,
And drink to the luck o' the bigging;
For the bride has her tap in her lap,
And the bridegroom his tail in his rigging.
Sing, Round about Hawick, &c.
There's been little luck i' the deed;
We're a' in the dumps thegither;
Let's gie the bridegroom a sheep's head,
But gie the bride brose and butter.
Sing, Round about Hawick, &c.
Then a' the gudewives i' the land
Came flocking in droves thegither,
A' bringing their bountith in hand,
To please the young bride's gudemither.
Sing, Round about Hawick, &c.
The black gudewife o' the Braes
Gae baby-clouts no worth a button;
But the auld gudewife o' Penchrice
Cam in wi' a shouder o' mutton.
Sing, Round about Hawick, &c.
Wee Jean o' the Coate gae a pun',
A penny, a plack, and a boddle;
But the wife at the head o' the town
Gae nought but a lang pin-todle.[A]
Sing, Round about Hawick, &c.
The mistress o' Bortugh cam ben,
Aye blinking sae couthy and canny;
But some said she had in her han'
A kipple o' bottles o' branny.
Sing, Round about Hawick, &c.
And some brought dumples o' woo,
And some brought flitches o' bacon,
And kebbucks and cruppocks enow;
But Jenny Muirhead brought a capon.
Sing, Round about Hawick, &c.
Then up cam the wife o' the Mill,
Wi' the cog, and the meal, and the water;
For she likit the joke sae weel
To gie the bride brose and butter.
Sing, Round about Hawick, &c.
And first she pat in a bit bread,
And then she pat in a bit butter,
And then she pat in a sheep's head,
Horns and a'thegither!
Sing, Round about Hawick, Hawick,
Round about Hawick thegither;
Round about Hawick, Hawick,
Round about Hawick for ever
On the Thursday following, George, instead of going to _the shop_,
dressed himself in his best Sunday clothes, and, with rather a curious
face, went ben to his stepmother, and inquired "what feck o' siller
she had about her?"
"Siller! Gudeness forgie you, Geordie, for an evendown waster and a
profligate! What are ye gaun to do wi' siller the day?"
"I have something ado ower at Hawick, and I was thinking it wad be as
weel to pay her account when I was there."
"Oho, lad! are ye there wi' your dreams and your visions o' the night,
Geordie? Ye're aye keen o' sangs, man; I can pit a vera gude ane i' your
head. There's an unco gude auld thing they ca', Wap at the widow, my
laddie. D'ye ken it, Geordie? Siller! quo he! Hae ye ony feck o' siller,
mother! Whew! I hae as muckle as will pay the widow's account sax times
ower! Ye may tell her that frae me. Siller! lack-a-day!--But, Geordie,
my man--Auld wives' dreams are no to be regardit, ye ken. Eh?"
After putting half a dozen pairs of trysted shoes, and the identical
silver-mounted boots, into the cadger's creels--then the only regular
carriers--off set George Dobson to Hawick market, a distance of nearly
eleven new-fashioned miles, but then accounted only eight and three
quarters; and after parading the Sandbed, Slitterick Bridge, and the
Tower Knowe, for the space of an hour, and shaking hands with some
four or five acquaintances, he ventured east-the-gate to pay Mrs
Wilson her account. He was kindly welcomed, as every good and regular
customer was, by Mrs Wilson. They settled amicably, and in the course
of business George ventured several sly, jocular hints, to see how
they would be taken, vexed that his grand and singular dream should go
for nothing. No, nothing would pass there but sterling cent per cent.
The lady was deaf and blind to every effort of gallantry, valuing her
own abilities too highly ever to set a man a second time at the head
of her flourishing business. Nevertheless, she could not be blind to
George's qualifications--he knew that was impossible,--for in the
first place he was a goodly person, with handsome limbs and broad
square shoulders; of a very dark complexion, true, but with fine,
shrewd, manly features; was a burgess and councillor of the town of
Selkirk, and as independent in circumstances as she was.
Very well; Mrs Wilson knew all this--valued George Dobson accordingly,
and would not have denied him any of those good points more than
Gideon Scott would to a favourite Cheviot tup, in any society
whatever; but she had such a sharp, cold, business manner, that George
could discover no symptoms where the price of the boots was to come
from. In order to conciliate matters as far as convenient, if not
even to stretch a point, he gave her a farther order, larger than the
one just settled; but all that he elicited was thanks for his custom,
and one very small glass of brandy; so he drank her health, and a good
husband to her. Mrs Wilson only courtseyed, and thanked him coldly,
and away George set west-the-street, with a quick and stately step,
saying to himself that the expedition of the silver-mounted boots was
all up.
As he was posting up the street, an acquaintance of his, a flesher,
likewise of the name of Wilson, eyed him, and called him aside. "Hey,
George, come this way a bit. How are ye? How d'ye do, sir? What news
about Selkirk? Grand demand for boots there just now, I hear--eh?
Needing any thing in my way the day?--Nae beef like that about your
town. Come away in, and taste the gudewife's bottle. I want to hae a
crack wi' ye, and get measure of a pair o' boots. The grandest story
yon, sir, I ever heard--eh?--Needing a leg o' beef?--Better? Never
mind, come away in."
George was following Mr Wilson into the house, having as yet scarcely
got a word said,--and he liked the man exceedingly,--when one pulled
his coat, and a pretty servant girl smirked in his face and said,
"Maister Dabsen, thou maun cum awa yest-the-gate and speak till
Mistress Wulsin; there's sumtheyng forgot atween ye. Thou maun cum
directly."
"Haste ye, gae away, rin!" says Wilson, pushing him out at the door,
"that's a better bait than a poor flesher's dram. There's some comings
and gangings yonder. A hien birth and a thrifty dame. Grip to, grip
to, lad! I'se take her at a hunder pund the quarter. Let us see you as
ye come back again."
George went back, and there was Mrs Wilson standing in the door to
receive him.
"I quite forgot, Mr Dobson--I beg pardon. But I hope, as usual, you
will take a family-dinner with me to-day?"
"Indeed, Mrs Wilson, I was just thinking to mysell that you were fey,
and that we two would never bargain again, for I never paid you an
account before that I did not get the offer of my dinner."
"A very stupid neglect! But, indeed, I have so many things to mind,
and so hard set with the world, Mr Dobson; you cannot conceive, when
there's only a woman at the head of affairs----"
"Ay, but sic a woman," said George, and shook his head.
"Well, well, come at two. I dine early. No ceremony, you know. Just a
homely dinner, and no drinking." So saying, she turned and sailed into
the house very gracefully; and then turning aside, she looked out at
the window after him, apostrophizing him thus--"Ay, ye may strut away
west-the-street, as if I were looking after you. Shame fa' the
souter-like face o' ye; I wish you had been fifty miles off the day!
If it hadna been fear for affronting a good steady customer, you
shoudna hae been here. For there's my brother coming to dinner, and
maybe some o' his cronies; and he'll be sae ta'en wi' this merry
souter chield, that I ken weel they'll drink mair than twice the
profits o' this bit order. My brother maun hae a' his ain will too!
Folk maun aye bow to the bush they get bield frae, else I should take
a staup out o' their punch cogs the night."
George attended at ten minutes past two, to be as fashionable as the
risk of losing his kale would permit--gave a sharp wooer-like rap at
the door, and was shown by the dimpling Border maid into _The_
ROOM,--which, in those days, meant the only sitting apartment of a
house. Mrs Wilson being absent to superintend the preparations for
dinner, and no one to introduce the parties to each other, think of
George's utter amazement, when he saw the identical fat gentleman, who
came to him thrice in his dream, and ordered him to come to Widow
Wilson's and get payment of his boots! He was the very gentleman in
every respect, every inch of him, and George could have known him
among a thousand. It was not the Duke of Northumberland, but he that
was so very like him, with fair curled hair, and red cheeks, which did
not hang over his cravat. George felt as if he had been dropped into
another state of existence, and hardly knew what to think or say. He
had at first very nigh run up and taken the gentleman's hand, and
addressed him as an old acquaintance, but luckily he recollected the
equivocal circumstances in which they met, which was not actually in
_the shop_, but in George's little bed-closet in the night, or early
in the morning.
In short, the two sat awkward enough, till, at last, Mrs Wilson
entered, in most brilliant attire, and really a handsome fine woman;
and with her a country lady, with something in her face extremely
engaging. Mrs Wilson immediately introduced the parties to each other
thus:--"Brother, this is Mr Dobson, boot and shoemaker in Selkirk;--as
honest a young man, and as good a payer, as I know.--Mr Dobson, this
is Mr Turnbull, my brother, the best friend I ever had; and this is
his daughter Margaret."
The parties were acquainted in one minute, for Mr Turnbull was a frank
kind-hearted gentleman; ay, they were more than acquainted, for the
very second or third look that George got of Margaret Turnbull, he
loved her. And during the whole afternoon, every word that she spoke,
every smile that she smiled, and every happy look that she turned on
another, added to his flame; so that long ere the sun leaned his
elbow on Skelfhill Pen, he was deeper in love than, perhaps, any other
souter in this world ever was. It is needless to describe Miss
Turnbull; she was just what a woman should be, and not exceeding
twenty-five years of age. What a mense she would be to the town of
Selkirk, and to a boot and shoemaker's parlour, as well as to the top
of the councillors' seat every Sunday!
When the dinner was over, the brandy bottle went round, accompanied
with the wee wee glass, in shape of the burr of a Scots Thistle. When
it came to Mr Turnbull, he held it up between him and the
light,--"Keatie, whaten a niff-naff of a glass is this? let us see a
feasible ane."
"If it be over little, you can fill it the oftener, brother. I think a
big dram is so vulgar!"
"That's no the thing, Keatie. The truth is, that ye're a perfect she
Nabal, and ilka thing that takes the value of a plack out o' your
pocket, is vulgar, or improper, or something that way. But I'll tell
you, Keatie, my woman, what you shall do: Set down a black bottle on
this hand o' me, and twa clear anes on this, and the cheeny bowl
atween them, and I'll let you see what I'll do. I ken o' nane within
the ports o' Hawick can afford a bowl better than you. Nane o' your
half bottles and quarter bottles at a time; now Keatie, ye ken, ye hae
a confoundit trick o' that; but I hae some hopes that I'll learn ye
good manners by and by."
"Dear brother, I'm sure you are not going to drink your bottles here?
Think what the town would say, if I were to keep cabals o' drinkers in
my sober house."
"Do as I bid you now, Keatie, and lippen the rest to me.--Ah, she is a
niggard, Mr Dobson, and has muckle need of a little schooling to open
her heart."
The materials were produced, and Mr Turnbull, as had been predicted,
did not spare them. Other two Wilsons joined them immediately after
dinner, the one a shoemaker, and the other our friend the flesher, and
a merrier afternoon has seldom been in Hawick. Mr Turnbull was
perfectly delighted with George;--he made him sing "The Souters o'
Selkirk," "Turn the Blue Bonnets," and all his best things; but when
he came to "Round about Hawick," he made him sing it six times over,
and was never weary of laughing at it, and identifying the characters
with those then living. Then the story of the boots was an
inexhaustible joke, and the likeness between Mr Turnbull and the Duke
of Northumberland an acceptable item. At length Mr Turnbull got so
elevated, that he said, "Ay, man! and they are shod wi' silver, and
silver tassels round the top? I wad gie a bottle o' wine for a sight
o' them."
"It shall cost you nae mair," said George, and in three minutes he set
them on the table. Mr Turnbull tried them on, and walked through and
through the room with them, singing--
"With silver he was shod before--
With burning gold behind."
They fitted exactly; and before sitting down, he offered George the
original price, and got them.
It became late rather too soon for our group, but the young lady grew
impatient to get home, and Mr Turnbull was obliged to prepare for
going; nothing, however, would please him, save that George should go
with him all night; and George being, long before this time, over head
and ears in love, accepted of the invitation, and the loan of the
flesher's bay mare, and went with them. Miss Margaret had soon, by
some kind of natural inspiration, discovered our jovial Souter's
partiality for her; and in order to open the way for a banter, (the
best mode of beginning a courtship,) she fell on and rallied him most
severely about the boots and the _Soutering_, and particularly about
letting himself be robbed of the two guineas. This gave George an
opportunity of retaliating so happily, that he wondered at himself,
for he acknowledged that he said things that he never believed he
could have had the face to say to a lady before.
The year after that, the two were married in the house of Mrs Wilson,
and Mr Turnbull paid down a hundred pounds to George on the day he
brought her from that house a bride. Now, thought George to himself,
I have been twice most liberally paid for my boots in that house. My
wife, perhaps, will stand for the third payment, which I hope will be
the best of all; but I still think there is to be another one
beside.--He was not wrong, for after the death of his worthy
father-in-law, he found himself entitled to the third of his whole
effects; the transfer of which, nine years after his marriage, was
made over to him in the house of his friend, Mrs Wilson.