your mind. Here, rest on my shoulder.
Now say on.”

We all tried to catch his words, and he
began:

“It’s two years ago, this very day, since
we had such a merry night of it in my
father’s house at home. He was a farmer in
a sma’ way up among the hills above the
Doon; and had the lands on a good tack,
and was thought a richer man than any of
his neighbours. There was only Jean and
me o’ the family; and I’m thinking nobody
was ever so happy or well cared for as I was
a’ the time I was young. For my mither
would let me want for nothing, and took me
on her knee and tauld me long histories o’
the Bruce and Wallace; and strange
adventures with the warlocks; and sang me a’
Burns’ songs, forbye reading me the grand
auld stories out o’ the Bible, about the death
o’ Goliath and the meeting o’ King Saul and
the Witch of Endor. Jean was a kind o’
mither to me, too; for she was five years
older, and spoilt me as much as she could.
She was so bonny, it was a pleasure to look
at her; and she helpit in the dairy, and
often milkt the cows hersel’; and in the
winter nights sat by the side o’ the bleezy
fire, and turned the reel or span, keepin’
time wi’ some lang ballad about cruel
Ranken coming in and killing Lady
Margaret; or the ship that sailed away to
Norway wi’ Sir Patrick Spence, and sank
wi’ all the crew. The schoolmaster came up,
when he was able, to gi’e me lessons; and as
the road was long, and the nights were
sometimes dark, it soon grew into the
common custom for him to come up ow’r
the hills on Friday, when the school was
skailt, and stay till the Monday morning.
He was a young man that had been intended
for a minister, but the college expenses had
been too much, and he had settled down as
the parish teacher at Shalloch; and we
always called him Dominie Blair. All the
week through, we looked for the Dominie’s
coming. Jean and I used to go and meet
him at the bend o’ the hill, where he came off
from the high-road, and he began his lessons
to me in botany the moment we turned
towards home. I noticed that he aye required
the specimens that grew at the side o’ the
burns that ran down valleys a good way off;
but I was very vain of my running, and used
to rush down the gully and gather the flower
or weed, and overtake the two before they
had walked on a mile. So you see, sir, it was
na long before it was known all over the
country side that Dominie Blair was going to
marry my sister Jean. Everybody thought
it a capital match, for Jean had beauty and
siller, and Mr. Blair was the cleverest man
in the county, and had the promise of the
mastership of a school in the East country,
with ninety pounds a-year. Our house grew
happier now than ever; and when Jean’s
birthday came round, there was a gathering
from far and near to do honour to the
bonniest and kindest lass in all the parish.
The minister himsel’ came up on his pony,
and drank prosperity to the young folks at
the door; and inside at night there was a
supper for all the neighbours, and John
Chalmers played on the fiddle, and a’ the
rest of us sang songs, and danced and skirled
like mad; and at last, when Jean’s health
was drank, with many wishes for her happiness,
up she gets and lays her arms round my
auld mither’s neck, and bursts out into a
great passion o’ tears; and when she
recovered herself, she said she would never
be so happy anywhere else, and that weel or
ill, dead or alive—in the body or in the
spirit—she would aye come back on that
night, and look in on the hame where
she had spent sae sunshiny a life. Some o’
them laughed at the wild affection she
showed; and some took it seriously, and
thought she had tied herself down by ow’r
solemn a bargain; but in a wee while the
mirth and frolicking gaed on as before, and
all the company confessed it was the happiest
evening they had ever spent in their lives.
Do you ken Loch Luart, sir?—a wee bit water
that stretches across between the Lureloch
and the Breelen? Ah! the grand shadows that
pass along it when you stand on the north
side and look over to the hill. There’s a
great blackness settled upon the face, as if
the sun had died away from the heavens
altogether, till when he comes round the
corner o’ the mountain, a glorious procession
o’ sunbeams and colours taks its course
across the whole length o’ the water, and all
the hill sides give out a kind o’ glow, and at
last the loch seems all on fire, and you can
scarcely look at it for the brightness. A
small skiff was kept at the side, for it saved
the shepherds miles o’ steep climbing to get
from flock to flock, as it cut off two or three
miles o’ the distance between our house and
Shalloch. One Friday, soon after the merry
meeting at Jean’s birthday, she set off as
usual to meet Mr. Blair. How far she went,
or where she met him, nobody could tell, for
nothing was ever seen or heard o’ them from
that day to this; only the skiff on Loch
Luart was found keel up, and the prints o’
feet that answered to their size were seen on
the wet bank. Nothing wad persuade my
mother for many a day that she wasna coming
back. When she heard a step at the door,
she used to flush up with a great redness in
her cheek, and run to let her in. Then when
she saw it was a stranger, she left the door
open and came back into the kitchen without
sayin’ a word. My father spoke very little,
but sometimes he seemed to forget that Jean
was taken away, and called for her to come
to him in a cheery voice, as he used to do;
and then, wi’ a sudden shake o’ his head, he
remembered that she was gone, and passed
away to his work as if his heart was broken.
And other things came on to disturb him