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Page 2
It was a beautiful spring-day and when I had cleared the city and got
right into the country everything was so fresh and pleasant that I could
have shouted with joy. The hedges were bursting into bloom, the grass
was dotted with daisies, and from the fields of braird rose larks and
other birds, which sang as if they rejoiced with me. I wondered why
people should stay in the city when the country was so much better. It
had one draw-back, the country-road was not as smooth as the pavement.
There was a cut in my left foot from stepping on a bit of glass, and the
dust and grit of the road got into it and gave me some pain. I must have
walked for three hours when I came to a burn that crossed the road. I
sat on a stone and bathed my foot, and with it dangling in the water I
ate a speldrin and a scone. On starting to walk, I found my foot worse,
and had to go slow and take many a rest. When the gloaming came I was on
the look out for a place to pass the night. On finding a cosey spot
behind a clump of bushes, I took my supper, lay down, and fell asleep,
for I was dead weary. The whistling of a blackbird near my head woke me
and I saw the sun was getting high. My foot was much worse, but I had to
go on. Taking from my bundle of provisions as sparingly as my hunger
would let me, I started. It was another fine day and had my hurt foot
been well I thought I would reach my mother's parish before long. I
could not walk, I just limped. Carts passed me, but would not give me a
lift. My bare feet and head and ragged clothes made them suspicious, and
as for the gentlemen in gigs they did not look at me. When I came to
spring or burn I put my foot in it, for it was hot and swollen now. At
noon I finished the food in my bundle and went on. I had not gone far
when I had to stop, and was holding my sore foot in a spring when a
tinker came along. He asked what was wrong. Drawing a long pin out of
his coat collar he felt along the cut, and then squeezed it hard. I see
it now, he remarked, and fetching from his pouch a pair of pincers he
pulled from the cut a sliver of glass. Wrapping the cloth round it he
tied it with a bit of black tape, and told me if I kept dirt out it
would heal in a day or two. Asking me where I was going, we had some
talk. He told me the parish of Dundonald was a long way off and he did
not know anybody in it by the name of Askew. I was on the right road and
could find out when I got there. He lit his pipe and left me. I walked
with more ease, and the farther I went the hungrier I grew. Coming to a
house by the side of the road I went to the open door and asked for a
cake. I have nothing for beggars, cried a woman by the fire. I am no
beggar, I answered, I will pay you, and held out a halfpenny. She stared
at me. Take these stoups and fill them at the well. The hill was steep
and the stoups heavy, but I managed to carry them back one at a time and
placed them on the bench. She handed me a farl of oatcake and I went
away. It was the sweetest bite I ever got. It was not nearly dark when I
climbed a dyke to get into a sheltered nook and fell asleep. Something
soft and warm licking my face woke me. It was a dog and it was broad
day. What are you doing here, laddie? said the dog's master who was a
young fellow, perhaps six or seven years older than myself. His staff
and the collie showed me he was a shepherd. I told him who I was and
where I was trying to go. Collie again smelt at me and wagged his tail
as if telling his master I was all right. I went with the lad who said
his name was Archie. He led to where his sheep were and we sat down in
the sunshine, for it was another warm day. We talked and we were not ten
minutes together when we liked each other. He unwrapped from a cloth
some bannocks and something like dried meat, which he said was braxie.
It was his noon-bite, but he told me to eat it for he said, we go back
to the shelter to-day, and by we he meant collie. He had been lonesome
and was glad of company and we chattered on by the hour. At noon,
leaving collie in charge of the sheep, we went to the hut where he
stayed and had something to eat. He said his father was shepherd to a
big farmer, who had sent him with two score of shearling ewes to get
highland pasture. We talked about everything we knew and tried to make
each other laugh. He told me about Wallace, and we gripped hands on
saying we would fight for Scotland like him, and I told him about
Glasgow, where he had not been. A boy came with a little basket and a
message. The message was from his father, that he was to bring the sheep
back early on Monday, and the basket was from his mother with food and a
clean shirt for the Sabbath. We slept on a sheepskin and wakened to hear
the patter of rain. After seeing his sheep and counting them, Archie
said we must keep the Sabbath, and when we had settled in a dry corner
of the hillside he heard me my questions. I could not go further than
Who is the Redeemer of God's elect? but he could go to the end. Then I
repeated the three paraphrases my mother had taught me, but Archie had
nearly all of them and several psalms. A shepherd would be tired if he
did not learn by heart, he said; some knit but I like reading best. Then
he took my mother's bible and read about David and Goliath. That over he
started to sing. Oh we had a fine time, and when a shower came Archie
spread his plaid like a tent over the bushes and we sat under it. He
told me what he meant to do when he was a man. He was going to Canada
and get a farm, and send for the whole family. As we snuggled in for the
night, he told me he would not forget me and he was glad collie had
nosed me out in the bushes. If I found in the morning he was gone, I was
to take what he left me to eat. Sure enough I slept in; he was gone with
the sheep. I said a prayer for him and took the road.
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