CHAPTER XXI.

MRS. WADDEL.

Great was the surprise of Flora, when, instead of entering the house by

a front door, they walked up an interminable flight of stone stairs,

every landing comprising a distinct dwelling, or flat (as it is

technically termed), with the names of the proprietors marked on the

doors. At last they reached the flat occupied by good Mistress Waddel,

situated at the very top of this stony region. Mrs. Waddel was at the

door ready to receive them. She showed them into a comfortable

sitting-room with windows fronting the street, where a bright fire was

blazing in a very old-fashioned grate. She welcomed her new lodgers with

a torrent of kindly words, pronounced in the broadest Scotch dialect,

only half understood by the English portion of her audience.

A large portly personage was Mrs. Waddel,--ugly, amiable, and by no

means particular in her dress; which consisted of a woollen plaid, very

much faded, and both ragged and dirty. Her large mutch with its broad

frills formed a sort of glory round her head, setting off to no

advantage her pock-marked, flabby face, wide mouth and yellow projecting

teeth. She had a comical, good-natured obliquity of vision in her

prominent light-grey eyes, which were very red about the rims; and Flora

thought, as she read with an inquiring eye the countenance of their

landlady, that without being positively disgusting, she was the most

ordinary, uncouth woman she ever beheld.

Mrs. Waddel was eloquent in the praise of her apartments, which she said

had been occupied by my Leddy W. when his Majesty George the Fourth, God

bless his saucy face, landed at Leith, on his visit to Scotland. Her

lodgings, it seemed, had acquired quite an aristocratic character since

the above-named circumstance; and not a day passed, but the good woman

enumerated all the particulars of that memorable visit. But her own

autobiography was the stock theme with the good landlady. The most

minute particulars of her private history she daily divulged, to the

unspeakable delight of the mischievous laughter-loving James Hawke, who,

because he saw that it annoyed Mrs. Lyndsay, was sure to lead the

conversation slily to some circumstance which never failed to place the

honest-hearted Scotchwoman on her high-horse: and then she would

talk,--ye gods!--how she would talk--and splutter away in her broad

provincial dialect, until the wicked boy was convulsed with laughter.

"Ay, Mister Jeames," she would say, "ye will a' be maken' yer fun o' a'

puir auld bodie, but 'tis na' cannie o' ye."

"Making fun of _you_, Mrs. Waddel," said he, with a sly glance at Flora,

"how can you take such an odd notion into your head! It is so good of

you to tell me all about your courtship: it's giving me a hint of how

I'm to go about it when I'm a man. I am sure you were a very pretty,

smart girl in your young days"--with another quizzical glance at Flora.

The old lady drew herself up, and smiled approvingly upon her black-eyed

tormentor.

"Na, na, Mister Jeames, my gude man that's dead an' gane said to me, the

verra day that he made me his ain--'Katie, ye are nae bonnie, but ye a'

gude, which is a' hantle better.'"

"No doubt he was right, Mrs. Waddel; but I really think he was very

ungallant to say so on his wedding-day, and did not do you half

justice."

"Weel, weel," said the good dame, "every ain to his taste. He was not

ow'r gifted that way himsel; but we are nane sensible o' our ain

defects."

The great attraction in the small, windowless closet in which James

slept, was an enormous calabash, which her son, the idol of Mrs.

Waddel's heart, had brought home with him from the South Seas. Over this

calabash, the simple-hearted mother daily rehearsed all the wonderful

adventures she had gathered from that individual, during his short

visits home; and as she possessed a surprisingly retentive memory, her

maternal reminiscences would have filled volumes,--to all of which James

listened with the most earnest attention, not on account of the

adventures, for they were commonplace enough, but for the mere pleasure

of hearing Mrs. Waddel talk broad Scotch, from which he seemed to derive

the most ludicrous enjoyment. Mrs. Waddel had two daughters, to whom

nature had been less bountiful than even to herself. Tall, awkward,

shapeless dawdles, whose unlovely youth was more repulsive than the

mother's full-blown, homely age,--with them the old lady's innocent

obliquity of vision had degenerated into a downright squint, and the

redness round the rims of their large, fishy-looking, light eyes, gave

the idea of perpetual weeping,--a pair of Niobes, versus the beauty,

whose swollen orbs were always dissolved in tears. They crept slip-shod

about the house, their morning wrappers fitting so easily their slovenly

figures, that you expected to see them suddenly fall to the ground, and

the young ladies walk on in native simplicity.

"My daughters are like mysel--na' bonnie," said Mrs. Waddel. "They

dinna' tak' wi' the men folk, wha look mair to comeliness than gudeness

now-a-days in a wife. A' weel, every dog maun ha' his day, an' they may

get husbands yet.

"I weel remember, when Noncy was a bairn, she was the maist ugsome wee

thing I ever clappit an e'e upon. My Leddy W. lodged in this verra room,

in the which we are no' sittin'. She had a daughter nearly a woman

grown, an' I was in my sma' back parlour washin' an' dressin' the bairn.

In runs my Leddy Grace, an' she stood an' lookit an' lookit a lang time

at the naked bairn in my lap: at last she clappit her hands an' she

called oot to her mither--'Mamma! Mamma! for gudeness sake, come here,

an' look at this ugly, blear-eyed, bandy-legget child!--I never saw sic

an object in a' my life!'

"It made my heart sair to hear her despise a creture made in God's image

in that way, an' I bursted into tears, an' said--'My leddy, yer a bad

Christian to spier in that way o' my puir bairn, an' that in the hearin'

of its ain mither. May God forgive you! but you ha' a hard heart.' She

was verra angry at my reproof, but my Leddy W. just then came in, an'

she said, with one of her ain gracious smiles--'For shame! Grace; the

bairn's weel enough. Let us hope she maun prove a' blessin' to her

parents. The straightest tree does na always bear the finest fruit.'

"I ha' met wi' mony crosses and sair trials in my day; but few o' them

made me shed bitterer tears than that proud, handsom' young leddy's

speech on the deformity o' my puir bairn."

Flora stood reproved in her own eyes, for she knew she had regarded the

poor ugly girls with feelings of repugnance, on account of their

personal defects. Even Jim, careless and reckless though he was,

possessed an excellent heart, and he looked grave, and turned to the

window, and tried to hum a tune, to get rid of an unpleasant sensation

about his throat, which Mrs. Waddel's artless words had suddenly

produced.

"Hang me!" he muttered half aloud, "if I ever laugh at the poor girls

again!"

Mrs. Waddel had in common with most of her sex, a great predilection for

going to auctions; and scarcely a day passed without her making some

wonderful bargains. For a mere trifle she had bought a 'gude pot, only

upon inspection it turned out to be miserably leaky. A nice palliasse,

which on more intimate acquaintance proved alive with gentry with whom

the most republican body would not wish to be on intimate terms. Jim was

always joking the old lady upon her bargains, greatly to the edification

of Betty Fraser, a black-eyed Highland girl, who was Mistress Waddel's

prime minister in the culinary department.

"Weel, Mister Jeames, jist ha' yer laugh oot, but when ye get a glint o'

the bonnie table I bought this mornin' for three an' saxpence, ye'll be

noo' makin' game o' me ony mair, I'm thinkin'. Betty, ye maun jist step

ow'r the curb-stane to the broker's, an' bring hame the table."

Away sped the nimble-footed Betty, and we soon heard the clattering of

the table, as the leaves flapped to and fro as she lugged it up the

public stairs.

"Now for the great bargain!" exclaimed the saucy Jim; "I think, Mrs.

Waddel, I'll buy it of you, as my venture to Canada."

"Did ye ever!" exclaimed the old lady, her eyes brightening as Betty

dragged in the last bargain, and placed it triumphantly before her

mistress. Like the Marquis of Anglesea, it had been in the wars, and

with a terrible clatter, the incomparable table fell prostrate to the

floor. Betty opened her great black eyes with a glance of blank

astonishment, and raising her hands with a tragic air which was

perfectly irresistible, exclaimed, "Mercy me, but it wants a fut!"

"A what?" screamed Jim, as he sank beside the fallen table and rolled

upon the ground in a fit of irrepressible merriment; "Do, for Heaven's

sake, tell me the English for a fut. Oh dear, I shall die! Why do you

make such funny purchases, Mrs. Waddel, and suffer Betty to show them

off in such a funny way? You will be the death of me, indeed you will;

and then, what will my Mammy say?"

To add to this ridiculous scene, Mrs. Waddel's grey parrot, who was not

the least important personage in her establishment, having been

presented to her by her sailor son, fraternised with the prostrate lad,

and echoed his laughter in the most outrageous manner.

"Whist, Poll! Hould yer clatter. It's no laughing matter to lose three

an' saxpence in buying the like o' that."

Mrs. Waddel did not attend another auction during the month the Lyndsays

occupied her lodgings. With regard to Betty Fraser, Jim picked up a page

out of her history, which greatly amused Flora Lyndsay, who delighted in

the study of human character. We will give it here.

Betty Fraser's first mistress was a Highland lady, who had married and

settled in Edinburgh. On her first confinement, she could fancy no one

but a Highland girl to take care of the babe, when the regular nurse was

employed about her own person. She therefore wrote to her mother to send

her by the first vessel which sailed for Edinburgh, a good,

simple-hearted girl, whom she could occasionally trust with the baby.

Betty, who was a tenant's daughter, and a humble scion of the great

family tree, duly arrived by the next ship.

She was a hearty, healthy, rosy girl of fourteen, as rough as her native

wilds, with a mind so free from guile that she gave a literal

interpretation to everything she saw and heard.

In Canada Betty would have been considered very green. In Scotland she

was regarded as a truthful, simple-hearted girl. A few weeks after the

baby was born, some ladies called to see Mrs. ----. The weather was very

warm, and one of them requested the neat black-eyed girl in waiting to

fetch her a glass of water. Betty obeyed with a smiling face; but oh,

horror of horrors, she brought the clear crystal to the lady guest in

her red fist.

The lady smiled, drank the water, and returned the tumbler to the

black-eyed Hebe, who received it with a profound curtsy.

When the visitors were gone, Mrs. ----, who was very fond of her young

clanswoman, called her to her side, and said, "Betty, let me never see

you bring anything into my room in your bare hands. Always put what you

are asked for on to a waiter or an ashat."

The girl promised obedience.

The very next day some strange ladies called; and after congratulating

Mrs. ---- on her speedy recovery, they expressed an earnest wish to see

the "_dear little baby_."

Mrs. ---- rang the bell. Betty appeared. "Is the baby awake?"

"Yes, my leddy."

"Just bring him in to show these ladies."

Betty darted into the nursery, only too proud of the mission, and

telling nurse to "mak' the young laird brau," she rushed to the kitchen,

and demanded of the cook a "muckle big ashat."

"What do you want with the dish?" said the English cook.

"That's my ain business," quoth Betty, taking the enormous china platter

from the cook's hand, and running back to the nursery. "Here, Mistress

Norman, here is ain big enough to hand him in, at ony rate. Pray lay his

wee duds smooth, an' I'll tak' him in, for I hear the bell."

"Are ye duff, lass? Wud ye put the bairn on the ashat?"

"Ay, mistress tauld me to bring what she asked me for on an ashat. Sure

ye wud no ha' me disobey her?"

"Na, na," said the nurse, laughing, and suspecting some odd mistake. "Ye

sal ha' it yer ain way."

And she carefully laid the noble babe upon the dish, and went before to

open the door that led to Mrs. ----'s chamber.

Betty entered as briskly as her unwieldy burden would permit, and with

glowing cheeks, and eyes glistening with honest delight, presented her

human offering in the huge dish to the oldest female visitor in the

room.

With a scream of surprise, followed by a perfect hurricane of laughter,

the venerable dame received the precious gift from Betty's hand, and

holding it towards the astonished mother, exclaimed, "Truly, my dear

friend, this is a dish fit to set before a king. Our beloved sovereign

would have no objection of seeing a dish so filled with royal fruit,

placed at the head of his own table."

The laugh became general; and poor Betty comprehending the blunder she

had committed, not only fled from the scene, but dreading the jokes of

her fellow-servants, fled from the house.

Flora Lyndsay; or, Passages in an Eventful Life, Vol. I. · 第 21 / 27 章