The Art of Writing
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第50章

``And how often wad that be, trow ye, my leddy? maybe no ance atween Candlemas and Yule and if a' thing were done to my hand, as if I was Sir Arthur himsell, I could never bide the staying still in ae place, and just seeing the same joists and couples aboon my head night after night.--And then I have a queer humour o' my ain, that sets a strolling beggar weel eneugh, whase word naebody minds--but ye ken Sir Arthur has odd sort o' ways--and I wad be jesting or scorning at them --and ye wad be angry, and then I wad be just fit to hang mysell.''

``O, you are a licensed man,'' said Isabella; ``we shall give you all reasonable scope: So you had better be ruled, and remember your age.''

``But I am no that sair failed yet,'' replied the mendicant.

``Od, ance I gat a wee soupled yestreen, I was as yauld as an eel.And then what wad a' the country about do for want o'

auld Edie Ochiltree, that brings news and country cracks frae ae farm-steading to anither, and gingerbread to the lasses, and helps the lads to mend their fiddles, and the gudewives to clout their pans, and plaits rush-swords and grenadier caps for the weans, and busks the laird's flees, and has skill o' cow-ills and horse-ills, and kens mair auld sangs and tales than a' the barony besides, and gars ilka body laugh wherever he comes?

Troth, my leddy, I canna lay down my vocation; it would be a public loss.''

``Well, Edie, if your idea of your importance is so strong as not to be shaken by the prospect of independence''--``Na, na, Miss--it's because I am mair independent as I am,''

answered the old man; ``I beg nae mair at ony single house than a meal o' meat, or maybe but a mouthfou o't--if it's refused at ae place, I get it at anither--sae I canna be said to depend on onybody in particular, but just on the country at large.''

``Well, then, only promise me that you will let me know should you ever wish to settle as you turn old, and more incapable of making your usual rounds; and, in the meantime, take this.''

``Na, na, my leddy: I downa take muckle siller at ance--it's against our rule; and--though it's maybe no civil to be repeating the like o' that--they say that siller's like to be scarce wi' Sir Arthur himsell, and that he's run himsell out o'

thought wi' his honkings and minings for lead and copper yonder.''

Isabella had some anxious anticipations to the same effect, but was shocked to hear that her father's embarrassments were such public talk; as if scandal ever failed to stoop upon so acceptable a quarry as the failings of the good man, the decline of the powerful, or the decay of the prosperous.--Miss Wardour sighed deeply--``Well, Edie, we have enough to pay our debts, let folks say what they will, and requiting you is one of the foremost--let me press this sum upon you.''