the Girnel, remembered as the last bailiff of the abbey who had resided at Monkbarns.Beneath an old oak-tree upon a hillock, sloping pleasantly to the south, and catching a distant view of the sea over two or three rich enclosures, and the Mussel-crag, lay a moss-grown stone, and, in memory of the departed worthy, it bore an inscription, of which, as Mr.Oldbuck affirmed (though many doubted), the defaced characters could be distinctly traced to the following effect:--Here lyeth John o' ye Girnell;Erth has ye nit, and heuen ye kirnell.
In hys tyme ilk wyfe's hennis clokit, Ilka gud mannis herth wi' bairnis was stokit.
He deled a boll o' bear in firlottis fyve, Four for ye halie kirke, and ane for puir mennis wyvis.
``You see how modest the author of this sepulchral commendation was;--he tells us that honest John could make five firlots, or quarters, as you would say, out of the boll, instead of four,--that he gave the fifth to the wives of the parish, and accounted for the other four to the abbot and chapter--that in his time the wives' hens always laid eggs--and devil thank them, if they got one-fifth of the abbey rents; and that honest men's hearths were never unblest with offspring--an addition to the miracle, which they, as well as I, must have considered as perfectly unaccountable.But come on--leave we Jock o'
the Girnel, and let us jog on to the yellow sands, where the sea, like a repulsed enemy, is now retreating from the ground on which he gave us battle last night.''
Thus saying, he led the way to the sands.Upon the links or downs close to them, were seen four or five huts inhabited by fishers, whose boats, drawn high upon the beach, lent the odoriferous vapours of pitch melting under a burning sun, to contend with those of the offals of fish and other nuisances usually collected round Scottish cottages.Undisturbed by these complicated steams of abomination, a middle-aged woman, with a face which had defied a thousand storms, sat mending a net at the door of one of the cottages.A handkerchief close bound about her head, and a coat which had formerly been that of a man, gave her a masculine air, which was increased by her strength, uncommon stature, and harsh voice.``What are ye for the day, your honour?'' she said, or rather screamed, to Oldbuck; ``caller haddocks and whitings--a bannock-fluke and a cock-padle.''
``How much for the bannock-fluke and cock-padle?'' demanded the Antiquary.
``Four white shillings and saxpence,'' answered the Naiad.
``Four devils and six of their imps!'' retorted the Antiquary;``do you think I am mad, Maggie?''
``And div ye think,'' rejoined the virago, setting her arms akimbo, ``that my man and my sons are to gae to the sea in weather like yestreen and the day--sic a sea as it's yet outby--and get naething for their fish, and be misca'd into the bargain, Monkbarns? It's no fish ye're buying--it's men's lives.''
``Well, Maggie, I'll bid you fair--I'll bid you a shilling for the fluke and the cock-padle, or sixpence separately--and if all your fish are as well paid, I think your man, as you call him, and your sons, will make a good voyage.''
``Deil gin their boat were knockit against the Bell-Rock rather! it wad be better, and the bonnier voyage o' the twa.
A shilling for thae twa bonnie fish! Od, that's ane indeed!''
``Well, well, you old beldam, carry your fish up to Monkbarns, and see what my sister will give you for them.''
``Na, na, Monkbarns, deil a fit--I'll rather deal wi' yoursell;for though you're near enough, yet Miss Grizel has an unco close grip--I'll gie ye them'' (in a softened tone) ``for three-and-saxpence.''
``Eighteen-pence, or nothing!''
``Eighteen-pence!!!'' (in a loud tone of astonishment, which declined into a sort of rueful whine, when the dealer turned as if to walk away)--``Yell no be for the fish then?''
--(then louder, as she saw him moving off)--``I'll gie ye them--and--and--and a half-a-dozen o' partans to make the sauce, for three shillings and a dram.''
``Half-a-crown then, Maggie, and a dram.''
``Aweel, your honour maun hae't your ain gate, nae doubt; but a dram's worth siller now--the distilleries is no working.''
``And I hope they'll never work again in my time,'' said Oldbuck.
``Ay, ay--it's easy for your honour, and the like o' you gentle-folks to say sae, that hae stouth and routh, and fire and fending and meat and claith, and sit dry and canny by the fireside--but an ye wanted fire, and meat, and dry claes, and were deeing o' cauld, and had a sair heart, whilk is warst ava', wi' just tippence in your pouch, wadna ye be glad to buy a dram wi't, to be eilding and claes, and a supper and heart's ease into the bargain, till the morn's morning?''
``It's even too true an apology, Maggie.Is your goodman off to sea this morning, after his exertions last night?''
``In troth is he, Monkbarns; he was awa this morning by four o'clock, when the sea was working like barm wi' yestreen's wind, and our bit coble dancing in't like a cork.''
``Well, he's an industrious fellow.Carry the fish up to Monkbarns.''
``That I will--or I'll send little Jenny, she'll rin faster; but I'll ca' on Miss Grizzy for the dram mysell, and say ye sent me.''
A nondescript animal, which might have passed for a mermaid, as it was paddling in a pool among the rocks, was summoned ashore by the shrill screams of its dam; and having been made decent, as her mother called it, which was performed by adding a short red cloak to a petticoat, which was at first her sole covering, and which reached scantily below her knee, the child was dismissed with the fish in a basket, and a request on the part of Monkbarns that they might be prepared for dinner.``It would have been long,'' said Oldbuck, with much self-complacency, ``ere my womankind could have made such a reasonable bargain with that old skin-flint, though they sometimes wrangle with her for an hour together under my study window, like three sea-gulls screaming and sputtering in a gale of wind.But come, wend we on our way to Knockwinnock.''
