“My what?” quoth I, jumping to my elbow and flingin’ my
arms ower the counterpane; " must a virtuous, weel-leevin’,
no’ to say God-fearin’ wumman, wha has foundet a bursary
and written the better part o’ an autobiography, condescend to
gie instructions aboot her epytaff? Na, na, gin it comes to
that I ’ll leave my name to posterity, and if naebody thinks it
worth while to put a mementae on my tombstone, I ’ll no’ lea’
it i’ their power to say I inditet and paid for letterin’ my ain
virtues.”
Maister Fleming wis vexed, and tried to explain the thing awa’. Had I deet then, I believe I wud have gotten as fine an inscription as ever ony lawyer wrote on a headstane; but I wis in ower great a temper to dee. At that instant I must have got the turn, for when the doctor cam’ next he stared as if somebody had worked miracles on me, and when I telt him the cause, he wis like to fa’ doon in a fit wi’ laughin, and said it wud be a while before I needed an epytaff yet, as a’ I wanted noo wis nourishing diet and a change o’ air.
Weel, it wis some days before I could venture on a change. Mrs. Warnock, the baker’s wife in George Street, wis unco attentive, and advised that I should gang to Rothesay and tak’ the mineral watters; but when I telt Willie Warstle, wha is noo in the logic class i’ the College, he laughed at the senselessness o’ the wumman advising onybody to try and get up their strength on mineral watters. He thought, hooever, that I might gang to a hydropatic establishment, and as the callant has lately shown himsel’ wise and thoughtfu’ ayont his years, I took his advice.
Noo, before I gaed to the establishment, I wis warned that I shouldna tell the doctor I had been ill, as a’ I needed to set me up wis nourishing food and caller air. It wis a great muckle hoose, furnished frae bottom to top like a Sultan’s
