help frae the pairish he flew into a bonny rage, and, as I heard
efterwards, said everything that an angry Christian man could
weel say before a minister, short o’ sweerin’. The kirk, however, pays his rent without speirin’ his leave. And atween
makin’ and mendin’, he tells me he can keep himsel’ in sic fare
as he needs without onybody’s help. Weel, as ye may suppose,
we had a gude crack aboot auld times. I sent oot for a dram
—for the day wis bitter cauld, besides, nairday wis at ban’;
and I mindit hoo my faither and Peter used to argy on deep
releegious maitters ower a wee drap o’ toddy; but though
they had sair battles, and never ’gree’t, I aye thocht they were
better freends than ever efter hin’. It wis real fine to see the
blythe blink in his ee efter he got warm’t wi’ the toddy.
“ Dagont! ” says he, takin’ a hearty snuff oot o’ his silver box, “ I’m sair vexed I canna step west on Hogmanay and be yer first-fit, as I aye wis wi’ yer faither when we leeved on the Bell-o’-the-Brae.”
“ Deed, I wud be doonricht gled to see ye,” quoth I. “ For there never wis a luckier first-fit; and, to tell the truth, my faither widna aloo ony ither.”
I wis but a lassie when we bydet on the Bell-o’-the-Brae, but I mind oor Nairday customs fine. My faither aye had a releegious exerceese on Hogmanay. It wis his habit to pray the auld year oot and the new year in. We daurna budge aff oor knees till the last stroke o’ twelve had chappit on the College steeple. Then, while the hoochs and hooreys for Nairday frae lads and lassies were heard echoing through the streets in the neighbourhude o’ the Cross and the Laigh Kirk, my mither wud clap the kettle on the fire, and my faither wud plant himsel’ ahint the door to listen for Peter Spale. Then Peter wud come ben wi’ his bottle, and Mysie, his wife, wi’ her basket o’ black currant bun and shortbread. Eh, it wis a fine
