"A MAN'S A MAN FOR A' THAT"
It would only weary the reader to give a narrative of the events which
happened during the period of the Sergeant's tedious recovery. Dr.
Scott watched by him many a night, feeling his pulse, and muttering to
himself about the twitching of the muscles of the fingers, as indicating
the state of the brain. Often did he warn Katie, when too hopeful, that
"he was not yet out of the wood", and often encouraged her, when
desponding, by assuring her that he "had seen brokener ships come to
land". And just as the captain steers his ship in a hurricane, adjusting
every rag of sail, and directing her carefully by the wind and compass,
according to the laws of storms, so did the Doctor guide his patient.
What a quantity of snuff he consumed during those long and dreary days!
What whisky toddy---- No! he had not once taken a single tumbler until
the night when bending over the Sergeant he heard the joyful question
put by him, "Is that you, Dr. Scott? What are you doing here?" and
when, almost kissing Katie, he said, "He is oot o' the wood at last,
thank God!"
"The Almighty bless you!" replied Katie, as she, too, bent over her
husband and heard him once more in calmness and with love utter her
name, remarking, "This has surely been a lang and sair fecht!" He then
asked, "Hoo's wee Mary? Is the bird leevin'?" Seeing Jock Hall at his
bedside, he looked at his wife as if questioning whether he was not
still under the influence of a delirious dream. Katie interpreting his
look said, "It was Jock that nursed ye a' through." "I'm yer nurse yet,
Sergeant," said Jock, "an' ye maun haud yer tongue and sleep." The
Sergeant gazed around him, turned his face away, and shutting his eyes
passed from silent prayer into refreshing sleep.
One evening soon after this, Adam, pale and weak, was seated, propped up
with pillows, in his old armchair near the window in his kitchen. The
birds and the streams were singing their old songs, and the trees were
in full glory, bending under the rich foliage of July; white fleecy
clouds were sailing across the blue expanse of the sky; the sun in the
west was displaying its glory, ever varying since creation; and all was
calm and peaceful in the heavens above, and, as far as man could see, on
the earth beneath.
Jock Hall was seated beside Adam, looking up with a smile into his face,
and saying little except such expressions of happiness as, "I'm real
prood to see you this length, Sergeant! Ye're lookin' unco' braw! It's
the wifie did it, and maybe the Doctor, wi' that by ordinar' lassock,
wee Mary;--but keep in your haun's, or ye'll get cauld and be as bad as
ever." Jock never alluded to the noble part he himself had taken in the
battle between life and death.
Katie was knitting on the other side of her husband. Why interpret her
quiet thoughts of deepest peace? Little Mary sat on her chair by the
fire.
This was the first day in which Adam, weak and tottering, had been
brought, by the Doctor's advice, out of the sick room.
Mr. Porteous unexpectedly rapped at the door, and, on being admitted,
gazed with a kindly expression on the group before him. Approaching
them he shook hands with each, not omitting even Jock Hall, and then sat
down. After saying a few suitable words of comfort and of thanksgiving,
he remarked, pointing to Jock, that "he was snatched as a brand from the
burning". Jock, as he bent down, and counted his fingers, replied that
the minister "wasna maybe far wrang. It was him that did it"; but
added, as he pointed his thumb over his shoulder, "an' though he wasna
frichted for the lowe, I'm thinkin' he maybe got his fingers burned
takin' me oot o't."
"Eh, Mr. Porteous," said Katie, "ye dinna ken what the puir fallow has
been tae us a' in our affliction! As lang as I leeve I'll never
forget----"
"Assure's I'm leevin'," interrupted Jock, "I'll rin oot the hoose if ye
gang on that way. It's really makin' a fule o' a bodie." And Jock
seemed thoroughly annoyed.
Katie only smiled, and looking at him said, "Ye're a guid, kind cratur,
Jock."
"Amen," said Adam.
After a minute of silence, Mr. Porteous cleared his throat and said, "I
am glad to tell you, Mr. Mercer, that the Session have unanimously
restored you to the office of elder."
The Sergeant started, and looked puzzled and pained, as if remembering
"a dream within a dream".
"Unanimously and heartily," continued Mr. Porteous; "and when you are
better, we shall talk over this business as friends, though it need
never be mentioned more. Hitherto, in your weakness, I requested those
who could have communicated the news to you not to do so, in case it
might agitate you: besides, I wished to have the pleasure of telling it
to you myself. I shall say no more, except that I give you full credit
for acting up to your light, or, let me say, according to the feelings
of your kind heart, which I respect. Let me give you the right hand of
fellowship."
A few quiet drops trickled down Adam's pale cheek, as in silence he
stretched out his feeble and trembling hand, accepting that of his
minister. The minister grasped it cordially, and then gazed up to the
roof, his shaggy eyebrows working up and down as if they were pumping
tears out of his eyes, and sending them back again to his heart. Katie
sat with covered face, not in sorrow as of yore, but in gratitude too
deep for words.
"Will ye tak' a snuff, sir?" said Jock Hall, as with flushed face he
offered his tin box to the minister. "When I fish the Eastwater, I'll
sen' ye as bonnie a basketfu' as ever ye seed, for yer kindness to the
Sergeant; and ye needna wunner muckle if ye see me in the kirk wi' him
sune."
The starling, for some unaccountable reason, was hopping from spar to
spar of his cage, as if leaping for a wager.
Mary, attracted by the bird, and supposing him to be hungry, mounted a
chair, and noiselessly opened the door of the cage. But in her
eagerness and suppressed excitement she forgot the food. As she
descended for it, the starling found the door open, and stood at it for
a moment bowing to the company. He then flew out, and, lighting on the
shoulder of the Sergeant, looked round the happy group, fluttered his
feathers, gazed on the minister steadily, and uttered in his clearest
tones, "I'm Charlie's bairn--'A man's a man for a' that!'"
* * * * *
Perhaps some of the readers of this village story, in their summer
holidays, may have fished the streams flowing through the wide domain of
Castle Bennock, under the guidance of the sedate yet original
underkeeper, John Hall; and may have "put up" at the neat and
comfortable country inn, the "Bennock Arms", kept by John Spence and his
comely wife Mary Semple--the one working the farm, and the other
managing the house and her numerous and happy family. If so, they
cannot fail to have noticed the glass case in the parlour, enclosing a
stuffed Starling, with this inscription under it--
"I'M CHARLIE'S BAIRN".
* * * * * * * *
Blackie's
Library of Famous Books
for Boys and Girls
R. M. BALLANTYNE--
The Young Fur Traders.
The Coral Island.
Martin Rattler.
Ungava.
The Dog Crusoe.
The World of Ice.
The Gorilla Hunters.
Deep Down.
The Lighthouse.
Erling the Bold.
The Lifeboat.
Gascoyne, the Sandalwood Trader.
W. H. G. KINGSTON--
Mark Seaworth.
Peter the Whaler.
The Three Midshipmen.
Manco, the Peruvian Chief.
J. FENIMORE COOPER--
The Pathfinder.
Deerslayer.
The Last of the Mohicans.
CAPTAIN MARRYAT--
Masterman Ready.
Poor Jack.
The Children of the New Forest.
The Settlers in Canada.
LOUISA M. ALCOTT--
A Garland for Girls.
Little Women.
Good Wives.
HANS ANDERSEN--
Favourite Fairy Tales.
Popular Fairy Tales.
CAROLINE AUSTIN--
Marie's Home.
S. BARING-GOULD--
Grettir the Outlaw.
JOHN BUNYAN--
The Pilgrim's Progress.
HON. JOHN BYRON--
The Wreck of the "Wager".
SUSAN COOLIDGE--
What Katy Did.
What Katy Did at School.
What Katy Did Next.
MISS CUMMINS--
The Lamplighter.
R. H. DANA--
Two Years before the Mast.
G. W. DASENT--
Tales from the Norse.
DANIEL DEFOE--
Robinson Crusoe.
G. MANVILLE FENN--
Nat the Naturalist.
EVELYN EVERETT-GREEN--
Little Lady Clare.
OLIVER GOLDSMITH--
The Vicar of Wakefield.
THE BROTHERS GRIMM--
Grimm's Fairy Tales.
NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE--
Tanglewood Tales.
G. A. HENTY--
A Chapter of Adventures.
Tales from Henty.
THOMAS HUGHES--
Tom Brown's School Days.
RICHARD JOHNSON--
The Seven Champions of Christendom.
CHARLES KINGSLEY--
The Heroes.
The Water-Babies.
Hereward the Wake.
CHARLES and MARY LAMB--
Tales from Shakspeare.
EMMA LESLIE--
Gytha's Message.
GEORGE MAC DONALD--
The Light Princess.
NORMAN MACLEOD--
The Starling.
BESSIE MARCHANT--
Greta's Domain.
HARRIET MARTINEAU--
Feats on the Fiord.
MARY RUSSELL MITFORD--
Our Village.
ROSA MULHOLLAND--
Hetty Gray.
Four Little Mischiefs.
CAPTAIN MAYNE REID--
The Rifle Rangers.
MARY C. ROWSELL--
Thorndyke Manor.
CHRISTOPH VON SCHMID--
The Basket of Flowers.
MICHAEL SCOTT--
The Cruise of the "Midge".
SIR WALTER SCOTT, BART.--
From Tales of a Grandfather.
CATHERINE SINCLAIR--
Holiday House.
R. STEAD--
The Lads of Little Clayton.
R. L. STEVENSON--
Treasure Island.
Kidnapped.
HARRIET BEECHER STOWE--
Uncle Tom's Cabin.
DEAN SWIFT--
Gulliver's Travels.
SARAH TYTLER--
Girl Neighbours.
A Loyal Little Maid.
JULES VERNE--
A Journey to the Centre of the Earth.
LEW WALLACE--
Ben Hur.
MRS. WHITNEY--
Faith Gartney's Girlhood.
M. WYSS--
The Swiss Family Robinson.
CHARLOTTE M. YONGE--
The Lances of Lynwood.
A Book of Golden Deeds.
The Little Duke.