Bairnie: a novel

Chapter I

" Yes ! a labourer I am in a certain sense, and I glory in so being. A labourer I am and a labourer I have long been, in the field of parliamentary reform. A labourer I am . . . in the vineyard of law reform — in the field of veracity and justice." Prentice's Manchester. " Off the face of the earth, Davie ! Off the face of the earth ! " cried Mr. Archibald in a tone of command, snapping finger and thumb as he entered his study. A Scotch terrier had been quietly snoozing on the hearth rug before the blazing fire. At the sound of his master's voice he jumped up as if shot, and, still half asleep, sprang into the air as high as he could. "Off the face of the earth, Davie," repeated Mr. Archibald. " Six times, old fellow. Hey ! I caught you napping, you lazy scoundrel ! " Mr. Archibald was a tall man, and each time that he repeated the words : " Off the face of the earth," he snapped finger and thumb higher in the air.

Davie, in his endeavour to clear the space between carpet and finger, twisted his body into all manner of contortions. When he had made himself as like a B BAIRNIE. ball as possible and as unlike a dog, his master took compassion on him and released him from duty. Then Davie lost no time in expressing his sense of contrition at the lack of watchfulness he had displayed and a tardy, but none the less hearty welcome, by wagging his tail, barking and blinking mischievously from beneath a shaggy veil of tawny hair. " You are getting old, Davie," said Mr. Archibald, reproachfully — " Old and lazy and careless." The dog hung his head with an air of embarrassment and crouched at his master's feet. " But that's a fault, old fellow, that I share with you. So cheer up, and do better next time." Davie, knowing from the conciliatory tone of voice in which his master spoke that he was forgiven, recom menced his gambols.

Mr. Archibald patted him on the head and then looked round him with an air of surprise. " Guidwife ! Guidwife!" cried he, "Where are ye, and where's Bairnie ? " "I'm here, uncle," answered Bairnie; but whence the voice proceeded it was difficult to determine. " In your old place, lassie ! I might have known it," observed Davie's master, walking towards a great square table, that, piled with books, pamphlets, papers and letters, some unfolded, others' open, some still damp from the press, others yellow from old age, formed an effectual screen to the old leathern sofa that stood beyond. BAIRNIE. 3 On this sofa, in the hollow formed by mauy years of use, lay coiled a slight form, which, at first sight, reminded one ludicrously of Davie, the dog ; for, through a mass of auburn hair in great disarray, shone a pair of soft brown eyes, and that was all of the face that could be seen.

The figure itself was shrouded in a hairy covering or mat, not unlike Davie's shaggy coat,making the resemblance complete. An open volume of one of Walter Scott's novels, propped up against the sofa cushion that was placed to serve as impromptu reading desk, showed what Bairnie's occupation had been. Mr. Archibdd's keen blue eye softened with a look of infinite tenderness as he regarded the small figure. He stopped down and, parting the abundant hair from the forehead, kissed his niece. " Reading again, wee pet ? " said he, " Always readti ing. " No, uncle, not always reading,'' returned the child with an air of injured pride, " only when the businesses the day is over." " When the business of the day is over," repeated the uncle, laughing as he mimicked the tone in which the words had been said.

" When the business of the day is over ! Why, you tiny wee thing, you are not much bigger now than when your father brought you to me years ago, and you just coiled yourself up in the hollow of the old sofa, as you do now, filling it up and making it just right for the old uncle to lie on. Busi ness of the day, indeed ! " b2 BAIRNIE. "Uncle, I'm quite tall," returned Bairnie, with dignity. " I've been growing very fast lately, and you seem to think that I am too young ever to be busy, but you forget that I shall be fourteen next week. " Gude guide us ! " exclaimed Mr. Archibald, arching his shaggy eyebrows with an air of comic wonder. " Ye'll soon be the age o' Methusalem, lassie ! And as to your height, I suppose I'm mistaken. Have the goodness to roll out of this hollow and set me right as regards your extraordinary dimensions."

So saying, the uncle pulled the laughing child from her resting place, on to the carpet. In doing so he slipped and fell. Davie, excited and ready for a frolic, sprang on both. The barking, the laughing, the pulling and shouting that ensued brought a tall, gentle-looking lady into the room. " What is the matter ? " asked she in mild, depreca tory tones. " Have you lost your senses ? " " Bairnie, your aunt thinks we are gone clean daft," gasped Mr. Archibald. " Nay, auld wife, we are no more distraught than the rest o' mankind, and we are nae sou, we're nae that sou, but just a drappie in oor e'e, taking the words literally," continued he, extricating himself from Bairnie and Davie and wiping his laughing eyes as he scrambled to his feet. " But now, guidwife, look after the tea, and have the cold meat in and the pie oatcakes, marmalade, and just whatever else the larder will supply, for I'm hungry enough for two, and a wheen folk are sure to drop in as usual.

Bairnie, will you help BAIRNIE. 5 me to sort the papers and look through the letters, hey, lassie ? " " Of course, uncle, as I always do,' answered the little maid composedly, as, parting her hair with her hands and pushing it behind her ears, she set to work with the most business-like air in the world, sorting papers and letters, and giving little bits of information with regard to each one. " Mr. Payne, uncle, has been here, and he wants you to answer this article in the Guardian." " H'm ! How long does he give me ? " " Only to-morrow, uncle. And here's a letter from a man who calls himself Ephraim Antrobus. He brought it himself, and he said he wanted you to do what you could to prevent the right of road to the Runnet Well being taken from Hingeley Fold. A funny man, uncle. At first I thought he would never tell me what he wanted, and then, when he did begin, I was afraid he would never stop."

" Ephraim Antrobus ! I know him, I think," muttered Mr Archibald, putting on his spectacles to read the letter. " A very worthy man in his way. This is a matter that must be looked into. It involves the liberties of the people. Free air, pure water, free trade, everything free, Bairnie, that's our motto. The poor man shan't have his drop of good water taken from him if we can prevent it, hey ? But what's this ? " " An invitation to lecture at the Mechanic's Institu tion in Liverpool, uncle, on the lbth." BAIRNIE. " On the 16th, is it ? And to-day is the 12th. It is the second invitation. I can scarcely refuse it. We shall have our hands full, lassie. Never mind ' The old uncle will put his shoulder to the wheel. Work while it is day. It is only Davie, lazy fellow, (here Mr Archi bald shot a glance from his deep-set eyes at the dog which was just sneaking off to his old place on the hearthrug) it is only Davie who sleeps when he ought to be watching."

Davie shivered slightly and then drew himself up in martial posture like a soldier on dutyr. " Poor Davie " remonstrated Bairnie, laughing at the animal's comical, wistful face. " You are hard on him to-day, uncle." " Can't help him. Must be punished," muttered Mr. Archibald with a penholder between his teeth. " But is not that the guidwife calling ? Run like a good lassie and help the old auntie while I write answers to all these people." The niece went softly away, but paused a moment at the door to look back at the writer. He was already busy at work. He looked older now, a much older man than you would have taken him to be when laughing and playing with his young niece. Stooping over the table, he passed his left hand across his brow, drawing his fingers through his hair, and the wavy locks, already somewhat gray, looked thin and straggling.

A wearied look had set on the kindly face, and the lines of thought forming a frown between the BAIRNIE. 7 shaggy eyebrows, had the effect of deepening the already deeply-set eyes. Seen in repose his features were massive and irregular. It was the well-shaped brow, the ever changing expression of the bright blue eye, the wondrous sensitiveness of the mobile lips, which made Mr. Archibald, what friends and enemies acknowledged him to be, a handsome man. Still in the prime of life, he looked older than his years, for he had worked as few men work, and battled with many odds. Leaving Scotland, his native country, at an early age, he had settled in a large mercantile town of one of the midland counties of England, and had made the interests of the place in which he lived his own. Where there was an abuse to be rectified, an innocent man to be defended, where the liberties of the people were at stake, the poor man's bread, the light of heaven, the water from the well taxed or withheld, there Mr. Archi bald appeared to the rescue and fought like a lion in the cause he espoused, He wrote article after article in the paper of which he was editor, he spared himself no trouble, no expense ; he lectured, journeyed about, used all his persuasive powers (and they were great) to enlist influential men on the side of the poor and oppressed.

He was honoured and loved, as, perhaps, few men are, but, as no fault of self had ever tainted his noble and self-imposed task, so no emolument, none of the worldly honours or offices that are freely given to BAIRNIE. men of his calibre, who seek for them, had been his portion. His excessive work would have done him no harm, for his personality required constant activity, and a life of inaction would have speedily killed him, had he had the means that other public men possess of recruiting his strength by occasional rest and foreign travel. A day in the country, and that only at rare intervals, was all that he could allow himself. He wanted such relaxation sadly now, thought Bairnie, as she at last left the room, gently closing the door after her. " I must get uncle away to the Dingle as soon as he is a bit free," she said to herself.

Before Bairnie closed the door, Mr. Archibald raised his eyes for a moment and looked after her. " Bairnie looks pale," said he to himself, " She's growing fast, and is thin and slight and fragile as a snowdrop. I must take her away to the Dingle for a day. It will do her good."

Chapter II

Now stir the fire, and close the shutters fast Let fall the curtains, wheel the sofa round, And, while the bubbling and loud hissing urn, Throws up a steamy column, and the cups That cheer, but not inebriate, wait on each, So let us welcome peaceful ev'ning in. The Task, Cowper. Tea at Mr. Archibald's was a pleasant meal. It was fixed at a somewhat late hour, and the long table was arranged to suit a variety of tastes. As Mr. Archibald said, "there was no knowing who might drop in." Whatever the worries of the day had been, with one shake of his broad shoulders, the master of the house freed himself from them when he entered his dining room in the evening. A jerk ofthe head and the wavy gray hair fell back from the massive brow, and from under the pent-house of eyebrow the keen, laughter loving eye beamed a welcome to the never-failing guests before the benevolent mouth could speak it.

At her place at the seaboard sat the mistress of the house. She had once, they said, been a great beauty. Now she was a tall, not ungraceful, but somewhat weird-looking lady, grown old before her time. Her mild pale-blue eye lacked expression, and the smile, for which she had once been famed, now only flitted fitfully and mournfully over her face at times, when a BAIRNIE. smile was least expected. Her children had all died in infancy, and people said that the loss had disturbed her mind One little daughter had lived to the age of six, and her parents had fondly hoped that she might be spared to them. In the memory of this child the mother lived. She possessed a miniature likeness of her, and when she thought herself alone and safe from intrusion, she would take it from her bosom, where she wore it, and speak to and fondle it.

She did her duties as mistress of the house after a fashion, but was often lost in a reverie which might come on at any minute. She would then, with head bent forward, fixed gaze and one hand extended, sit as if listening to some distant sound, her right foot stretched forward, her whole attitude one of expectation. Sometimes the fit would come upon her at the tea-table, and the risk of scalding herself or her guests, w-ith the hot tea from the up-lifted tea-pot, would have been great had not Bairnie or Mr. Archibald always been on the watch. A word from her husband, a warning " Guidwife ! guidwife ! " always brought her to herself again. With a little embarrassed laugh, a slight colour returned to her pale face, her eyes lost their fixity of expression and became moist, and the poor ladyresumed her duties.

Mr. Archibald's patience and love were inexhaustible, and he had a most clever and willing coadjutor in his niece. Her seat was near her aunt's. It was her hand BAIRNIE. 11 that in a quiet way, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, turned the tap of the urn if her aunt left it running, or closed the lid of the teapot, or put a lump of sugar in a neglected cup. Guests there were always, nephews and other nieces, a Scotch friend or two, a fellow editor, a rising author or poet who stood in need of help or sympathy. The dining and drawing-rooms were separated by large folding-doors. These were always thrown open in the evening, and both rooms lit up. In the one room was the tea-table, in the other, the open piano, for Mr. Archibald loved to hear a Scotch song, and prided himself no little on his own performances on the flute.

The viands were numerous and varied to suit the tastes of different nationalities, haddock, oat-cake, mar malade, and Scotch porridge, being side by side with cold roast beef, soles, muffins, buttered toast and pre serves. As for the conversation, it was a rapid succes sion of anecdotes, jokes, clever repartees, Mr. Archibald being in himself a very mine of racy incidents, laughter provoking similes and illusions. It was: "Do ye no mind this " and " Do ye no mind that," and onegood tale would succeed another till the merriment became universal. After tea, when the older guests had assembled round their host, near the drawing-room fireside, and were continuing their anecdotes, and a relation of their various reminiscences, the younger people collected in groups in different parts of both rooms and enjoyed themselves in their way, laughing, talking, singing, and playing.

BAIRNIE. So unconstrained and unconventional was the tone that pervaded Mr. Archibald's house that, by dint of doing nothing at all, but allowing the young people to meet and enjoy his hospitality, he did more in the way of match-making than any lady mother in the neighbour hood. Indeed, it was a saying, that a bachelor was lost as soon as he consented to be one of the party at Mr. Archibald's house, and as for old-maids, the term could never be applied to any of the laughter-loving damsels even on the wrong side of thirty, who were welcome visitors at Park Terrace. One exception there was. One bachelor, deaf to the warning voice of friends, came year after year, persisting in his bachelorship, spite of the snaps and snarls of Davie, who disliked single blessedness as much as his master. This exception was a tall, thin Scotchman, with a shrewd face, broad shoulders, and immense length of leg.

As he stooped considerably, he appeared, when seated at table, to be but of medium size, but when he rose he continued rising so long that there seemed to be no end to him. He talked much at times, was never hurried or put out of the way, and was given to occasional fits of abstraction and forgetfulness. When, on the evening in which our tale commences, Mr. Archibald entered the dining-room, his eye rested on this individual, who was leaning against the mantel shelf in a somewhat pensive attitude, with arms crossed and legs twisted round each other in corkscrew fashion. BAIRNIE. After greeting his other guests, Mr. Archibald turned to this one, and pushing his spectacles high on his brow, as was his wont when perplexed, exclaimed : " You here, Fraser ? Why, I thought you were in Glas gow. I left you on your way to the station last night."

" And I saw him get into a carriage " added a gentle man, the very antitype of Mr. Fraser, short in person, quick and jerky in manner, a doctor by profession and a great friend of Mr. Archibald. " I had just come into town and was delayed at the station for a moment or two. The last I saw of our friend was the heels of his boots as they slowly followed the rest of his person into the last carriage of the Scotch train. How he happens to be here and not in Glasgow I can't make out." " It will be one of Mr. Fraser's slight mistakes. He will have been drinking a cup of coffee or tea at some station, (we have all heard him say scores of times that he cannot travel many miles without sustenance of some kind) and has forgotten that the train was not his own private carriage to await his leisure," exclaimed one young lady.

" He fell asleep and was shunted off the line at the junction," suggested the doctor. " Nonsense ! In that case he would have certainly gone on, and would not have been here," returned Mr. Archibald. " Confess, Fraser ! To what extraordinary adventure or misadventure do we owe the pleasure of your company here in England to-night, when you ought by good rights to be in Auld Reekie ? " BAIRNIE. " To the semplest thing i' the warld, my guid freend," answered the Scotchman. " I had ta'en my place in a vacant kerridge, the last on the train as it happened. I aye choose an empty kerridge if choice there be." " To have room for your legs," remarked the doctor. " Nae doot, as ye say, to hae room for my legs. By skeelfu' management I had arranged my lembs pairtly on the ane seat, pairtly on the ither " (" By doubling them at the knees," put in a voice ) " and had adjoosted my plaid to form a vera agreeable sup poort for head an' shoothers in ane corner.

I then re. commended my saul to Providence an' my body to the tender marcies o' the engine driver, an' soothed by the hum o' paissenger's voices, as their owners took their respective places in ither pairts o' the train, I fell into a deep an' no that unrefreshin' shimmer." " When I wauked the train was stationary. " Hoot ! ' thocht I, ' we are stoppin' at the station o' a sma' village, that hasna muckle intercoorse wi' the rest o' the warld, for I hear nae paissengers enterin' an' leavin' ; ' an' gratified to perceive that I had still the kerridge to mysel', I again composed mysel' to sleep. Some 'oors later, I wauked again wi' a stairt. The train was, as earlier in the nicht, stationary. ' I hae reached my destination,' thought I. ' Strange ! I mind but leetle o' the journey. But I hae nae cause to fash my sel' aboot what maist travellers wad be thankfu' for.

A cup o' het coffee, now,' continued I, my soleeloquy ' a a cup o' het coffee will be no unacceptable.' BAIRNIE. " Hereupon I opened the door, an' turning' my back to it, began to gaither my various effects. For mair convenience, I commenced descending backwards, whilst rollin' my plaid, travellin' cap, an' ither duds into as sma' a space as was practicable, when a' at ance, a hool dash o' water flew against the leg that was ootside, coolin' the lemb in a maist onpleasant manner. ' What ails Auld Reekie,' thocht I. 'It's rainin' buckets fu' but pairtial, vera pairtial as it seems.' I was glow'rin through the window on the ither side o' the kerridge an' no a drap o' rain could I see. On the contrary, the mornin' sun was shinin' wi' mair than his usual breeliancy. Anither dash o' cauld water gave me the moral certainty that somethin' mair than mere incle mency o' weather was the cause o' my lembs' immair sion, an'., havin' collected my effects, I descended, ac cordin' to custom, backward from the kerridge, and slowly, for ye ken the proverb : ' Naething to be done in haste, but gripping fleas.' " On descendin' (ye will scarcely credit it) anither dash o' water submerged a' most my hool pairson.

" Noo, I am pairtial to a shoor-bath, but I hae a weakness for determinin' the time an' place for the same. I fear, my pheelosophy o' manner — which ye weel ken, my freends — desairted me somewhat as I turned towards the wretched man, wha, with head on ane side, was throwing bucket after bucket fu' o' water on the sides o' the kerridge wi' the in itself praiseworthy intention o' purifyin' it. BAIRNIE. " ' Hoot man! ' quoth I, ' ye're as daft a body as I e'et clappit an ee on.' (I aye talk Scotch in my native Ian'). ' Dinna ye ken that's nae the time for cleansing o' kerridges when paissengers, unco weary frae a lang nicht 's journey, are descendin' frae the train. Ye'll hae yer croon crackit, I'm thinkin,' if ye dinna divert yerself in anither fashion. Sic as ye gie, sic will ye get.' " The man turned his head and at the sicht o' me stood glow'rin, pail in hand.

I ne'er saw the like o't. I might hae been an appareetion. My usual benevolent calm returned to me. " ' De'il hae a care freen,' said I, ' I'l nae inform on ye. Dinna glower as if ye saw a wraith. I'm flesh an' bluid like yerself, but the flesh is unco creepy an' the bluid cauld thanks to yer ow're free dispen sation o' God's gifts. Mak' what amends ye can. Haud away' and hail a cab whilst I get a cup o' het coffee.' " To my amazement the chiel, whose features had gradually resumed the appearance that dootless was habitual to them, commenced grinnin' in a maist offen sive manner an' didna move a step to assist me. " ' Doited dunderhead ! ' exclaimed I, losin' my patience, ' are ye deaf? ' " ' No, sir,' answered the man touchin' his cap, but burstin' wi' laughter, at the same time, ' but do you know where you are ? ' " ' Whaur sail I be, ne'er-do-weel ! ' roared I, ' but in Glesca, an' it's nae sae short a journey frae the BAIRNIE. 17 meedlan' counties o' England that ye suld stan' there an' grin instead o' assistin' a wearied paissenger.

I sail just complain, my man, if ye dinna bestir yesel.' " The sempleton grinned again, frae ear to ear. ' This carriage never moved, air," said he ' " You have been in the same place all night.', "On castin' my eyes aroun,' I saw that the man was richt. By some trick o' fickle Dame Fortune — nae wunner I distrust yer sex, leddies — the kerridge in which I had composed mysel' to sleep was unhooked from the remainin' pairt o' the train an' after travellin' a hool nicht, as I thocht, I wauked to find mysel' no sae far frae the plaitform whence I had stairted. An' noo," continued Mr. Fraser stalking to the table and changing his voice to one of deep solemnity as he took his place, " may the Lord bless to us the bounties o' his table." A simultaneous burst of laughter greeted the conclusion of Mr. Fraser's narrative.

Mr. Archibald especially shook with merriment as he wiped his spectacles and his eyes alternately. " No wonder we see you with us to night, Fraser," said he. " After the fatigues of such a long journey you will require to rest before recommen cing your travels." Mr Fraser let the jokes, the taunts, the laughs at his expense pass entirely unheeded. He was now deeply engaged in what he considered to be a duty of the first importance, the supplying of the inner man with substantial food and he seldom allowed any thing to interfere with him during the operation. C BAIRNIE. It was some time after tea, before, leaning in his favourite attitude against the mantelpiece, he displayed a desire to join in the conversation. The doctor had been watching his opportunity. Now that the favourable moment had arrived he said jocosely : "Now Mr. Fraser, he says again and again, and affirms it in the face of all objections raised by other parties that everything, even every mistake, has its good.

What special benefit does he imagine has accrued or will accrue to mankind from this blunder of his, hey ? " (The doctor was a Yorkshire man by birth. and often used the third person as his mode of address), " I doubt if his business friends in Glasgow, who were waiting for him in vain this morning, will see any special providence in his untoward nap. He takes things too quietly by half, and allows himself to be carried on or not carried on, as the case may be, by the course of events without an effort to right himself, and with a very reprehensible, fatalistic belief that all that is, must be. His philosophy will ruin him, if he is left to himself much longer. He wants a radical cure, and I prescribe matrimony. " It's only bachelors, poor pitiable creatures who are pushed and tossed through the waves and breakers of the sea of life, like ships without rudders.

I'm astonished, Mr. Archibald, that in your highly respect able family, you still permit Mr. Fraser to propagate bachelor views, and manifest bachelor carelessness. The ladies should see to it." BAIRNIE. 19 " Oh ! we can do nothing with Mr. Fraser," exclaimed a cousin of Bairnie's, a young girl with handsome but hard features, who, when she smiled, as now, somewhat mischieviously, displayed a row of dazzingly-white, per fectly-formed, cruel-looking teeth. " He's past help ! He must drift down life's stream without rudder." " To be taken in tow whether he will or not by some fair Loreley at last," added the doctor. " But, seriously, Fraser, what good has come, or will come, or may come from your douse this morning at the Central Station, hey ? " "Guid? Guid eneuch!" answered the Scotchman. " Now mark, Doctor, what happened, and let yer un believin' saul repent o' its unbelief, an' learn a no unnecessary lesson o' faith.

" Returnin' in the gray* o' the morning to my lodgin', an' no that pressed for time, for ye ken, I couldna rouse my landleddy sae early an' she nae expectin' me for ane or twa days, I passed by an airched door in a bye street. A wee bit bairnie, some four years auld, was sittin' his lane on the cauld stane an' whemperin'. "' Hoot my wee man,' said I, ' What are ye aboot all by yersel at this time o' day*. What ails ye ? ' "The wee chap looked up in my face and ceased whemperin'. " I repeated my question. " Then he commenced speakin' wi' greatvolubeelity* for sae sma' a chap, but in French. I'll no deny that it was with some deeficulty I made oot what he said, for his c BAIRNIE. French was no the French I acquired under the tueetion of Mossure Petitjean in my schule days. But dootless, the little fellow spoke wi' a provencial accent.