Mr. Punch in the Highlands by J. A. Hammerton and Charles Keene (books to improve english .txt) 📖
Book online «Mr. Punch in the Highlands by J. A. Hammerton and Charles Keene (books to improve english .txt) 📖». Author J. A. Hammerton and Charles Keene
AUGUST IN SCOTLAND
Bag Carrier (to Keeper). "What does the maister aye ask that body tae shoot wi' him for? He canna hit a thing!"
Keeper. "Dod, man, I daur say he wishes they was a' like him. The same birds does him a' through the season!"
[Pg 78]
KINREEN O' THE DEE; A PIOBRACH HEARD WAILING DOWN GLENTANNER ON THE EXILE OF THREE GENERATIONS.
Och hey, Kinreen o' the Dee!
Kinreen o' the Dee!
Kinreen o' the Dee!
Och hey, Kinreen o' the Dee!
I'll blaw up my chanter,
I've rounded fu' weel,
To mony a ranter,
In mony a reel,
An' pour'd a' my heart i' the win'bag wi' glee:
Och hey, Kinreen o' the Dee!
For licht wis the laughter in bonny Kinreen,
An' licht wis the footfa' that glanced o'er the green,
An' licht ware the hearts a' an' lichtsome the eyne,
Och hey, Kinreen o' the Dee!
Kinreen o' the Dee!
Kinreen o' the Dee!
Och hey, Kinreen o' the Dee!
The auld hoose is bare noo,
A cauld hoose to me,
The hearth is nae mair noo,
The centre o' glee,[Pg 80]
Nae mair for the bairnies the bield it has been,
Och hey, for bonny Kinreen!
The auld folk, the young folk, the wee anes, an' a',
A hunder years' hame birds are harried awa',
Are harried an' hameless, whatever winds blaw,
Och hey, Kinreen o' the Dee! &c.
Fareweel my auld pleugh lan',
I'll never mair pleugh it:
Fareweel my auld cairt an'
The auld yaud[3] that drew it.
Fareweel my auld kailyard, ilk bush an' ilk tree!
Och hey, Kinreen o' the Dee!
Fareweel the auld braes, that my hand keepit green,
Fareweel the auld ways where we waunder'd unseen
Ere the star o' my hearth came to bonny Kinreen,
Och hey, Kinreen o' the Dee! &c.
The auld kirk looks up o'er
The dreesome auld dead,
Like a saint speakin' hope o'er
Some sorrowfu' bed.
Fareweel the auld kirk, an' fareweel the kirk green,
They tell o' a far better hame than Kinreen!
The place we wad cling to—puir simple auld fules,
O' our births an' our bridals, oor blesses an' dools,
Whare oor wee bits o' bairnies lie cauld i' the mools.[4]
I aft times hae wunder'd
If deer be as dear,
As sweet ties o' kindred,
To peasant or peer;[Pg 82]
As the tie to the hames o' the land born be,
Och hey, Kinreen o' the Dee!
The heather that blossoms unkent o' the moor,
Wad dee in his lordship's best greenhoose, I'm sure,
To the wunder o' mony a fairy land flure.
Och hey, Kinreen o' the Dee! &c.
Though little the thing be,
Oor ain we can ca';
That little we cling be,
The mair that it's sma';
Though puir wis oor hame, an' thogh wild wis the scene,
'Twas the hame o' oor hearts: it was bonnie Kinreen.
An yet we maun leave it, baith grey head an bairn;
Leave it to fatten the deer o' Cock-Cairn,
O' Pannanich wuds an' o' Morven o' Gairn.
Och hey, Kinreen o' the Dee!
Kinreen o' the Dee!
Kinreen o' the Dee!
Sae Fareweel for ever, Kinreen of the Dee!
[3]Mare.
[4]Earth.
[Pg 79]
CANNY!
Sportsman. "That's a tough old fellow, Jemmy!"
Keeper. "Aye, sir, a grand bird to send to your freens!"
[Pg 81]
EXPERTO CREDE
Tourist (on approaching hostelry). "What will you have, coachman?"
Driver. "A wee drap whuskey, sir, thank you."
Tourist. "All right I'll get down and send it out to you."
Driver. "Na, na, gie me the saxpence. They'll gie you an unco sma' gless!"
[Pg 83]
A LAMENT FROM THE NORTH
"And then the weather's been so bad, Donald!"
"Ou ay, sir. Only three fine days—and twa of them snappit up by the Sawbath!"
[Pg 84]
TWO ON A TOUR"Can you tell me which is Croft Lochay?"
The smith leant on his pitchfork—he had been up at the hay—and eyed Gwendolen and myself with friendly interest.
"Ye'll be the gentry from London Mistress McDiarmat is expectin'?"
"And which is the way to her house?"
"Well", said the smith, shading his eyes as he peered up at the Ben, "ye can't see it rightly from here, as it lies behind yon knowe. It's a whole year whatever since I hev not been up myself; but if you follow the burn——"
I glanced at Gwen and saw that she shared my satisfaction. To cross the edge of civilisation had for months past been our hearts' desire; and to have achieved a jumping-off place only approachable by a burn exceeded our wildest ambitions.
We thanked the smith, and set off on our expedition up the mountain side.
"We twa hae paidlit in the burn", sang Gwendolen as she skipped like a goat from stone to stone. "O Jack, isn't it too primitive and delightful!"
"Rather", said I, inhaling great draughts of the mountain air.
"Aren't you hungry?"
"Rather", I repeated. "Wonder what there'll be to eat."
"Oh, I don't care what it is. Anything will be delicious. Is that the house, do you think?"
I looked up and saw above us a low white-washed shanty covered with thatch which was kept in its place by a network of laths. A few heavy stones were evidently designed to keep the roof from blowing off in winter storms.
"No", said Gwen. "That must be the cowhouse byre, don't you call it?"
"I'm not so sure", said I.
While we were still uncertain, a figure came to the door and bade us welcome.
[Pg 90]"Come in, come in. Ye'll be tired with the travelling, and ye'll like to see the rooms."
We acquiesced, and Mistress McDiarmat led the way into the cowhouse.
"Shoo!" she cried as she opened the door of the bedroom. "Get away, Speckle! The hens will lay their bit egg on the bed, sir."
"What fresh eggs we shall get!" cried Gwen, delighted with this fresh proof of rusticity and with the Gaelic gutturals with which Mistress McDiarmat emphasized her remarks to Speckle.
The "other end" was furnished with two hard chairs, a table and a bed.
"Fancy a bed in the dining-room and hens in your bed!" said Gwen, in the highest of spirits. "And here comes tea! Eggs and bacon—Ah! how lovely they smell, and how much nicer than horrid, stodgy dinners! And oatcakes—and jelly—and the lightest feathery scones! O Jack, isn't it heavenly?"
"Rather", I agreed, beginning the meal with tremendous gusto. The eggs and bacon disappeared in the twinkling of an eye, and then we fell to on the light feathery scones. "Wish we hadn't wasted a fortnight's time and money in ruinous Highland hotels. Wonder what Schiehallion thinks of hot baths and late dinners, not to speak of waiters and wine-lists."
"I suppose", remarked Gwendolen, "one could get a bath at the Temperance Inn we passed on the road?"
"Baths!" cried I. "Why, my dear, one only has to go and sit under the neighbouring waterfall." Gwen did not laugh, and looking up I saw she had stopped in the middle of a scone on which she had embarked with great appetite.
"Try an oat-cake", I suggested.
"No, thanks", said Gwen.
"A little more jelly?"
Gwen shook her head.
I finished my meal in silence and pulled out my pipe.
"Going to smoke in here?" asked Gwen.
"It's raining outside, my dear."
"Oh, very well. But remember this is my bedroom. I decline to sleep with hens."
I put the pipe away and prepared for conversation.
"Can't you sit still?" asked Gwen after a long pause.
"This chair is very hard, dear."
"So is mine."
"Don't you think we might sit on the bed?"
"Certainly not. I shouldn't sleep a wink if we disarranged the clothes, and only an expert can re-make a chaff bed."
"Wish we had something to read", I remarked, after another long pause.[Pg 98]
"Do you expect a circulating library on the top of Ben-y-Gloe?"
I began to realise that Gwen was no longer in a conversational mood, and made no further efforts to break the silence. Half-an-hour later Gwen came across the room and laid her hand on my shoulder. "What are you reading, dear?" she asked.
"I find we can get a train from Struan to-morrow afternoon which catches the London connection at Perth when the train's not more than two hours late."
"We can't risk that. Isn't there a train in the morning?"
"It would mean leaving this at five."
"So much the better. O Jack, if I eat another meal like that it will be fatal. To think we shall be back in dear old Chelsea to-morrow!"
[Pg 85]
ORIGIN OF THE HIGHLAND SCHOTTISCHE
"This is the way they tread the hay, tread the hay, tread the hay;
This is the way they tread the hay, tread the hay in Scotland!"
[Pg 86]
GROUSE SHOOTING LATE IN THE SEASON. JOLLY, VERY!
"Come along, old fellow! heres a point!!"
[Pg 87]
DEER -STALKING MADE EASY. A HINT TO LUSTY SPORTSMAN.
[Pg 88]
SOONER OR LATER
Old Gent. "When is the steamer due here?"
Highland Pier-Master. "Various. Sometimes sooner, sometimes earlier, an' even sometimes before that, too."
[Pg 89]
HARMLESS
Cockney Sporting Gent. "But I think it's a 'en!"
Sandy (his keeper). "Shoot, man, shoot! She'll be no muckle the waur o' ye!!"
[Pg 91]
PLEASANT
Friend (to novice at salmon fishing). "I say, old boy, mind how you wade; there are some tremendous holes, fourteen or fifteen feet deep."
[Pg 92]
AN IMPORTANT DETAIL
Our Latest Millionaire (to Gillie, who has brought him within close range of the finest stag in the forest). "I say, Mac, confound it all, which eye do you use?"
[Pg 93]
English Tourist (in the far North, miles from anywhere). "Do you mean to say that you and your family live here all the winter? Why, what do you do when any of you are ill? You can never get a doctor!"
Scotch Shepherd. "Nae, sir. We've just to dee a natural death!"
[Pg 94]
SCENE--A ROADSIDE INN IN A MOORLAND DISTRICT, SCOTLAND.
(The Captain and Gamekeeper call in to have some Refreshment)
Landlady (enters in fear). "Eh, sir, yer gun's no loaded is't? for a never would bide in a hoose whaur the wur a loaded gun in a' m'life."
Captain (composedly), "Oh we'll soon put that right--have you got a cork?"
[Exit Landlady and brings a cork, which the Captain carefully sticks in the muzzle of the gun, and assures her it is all right now--
Landlady (relieved). "Ou, aye! it's a' right noo, but it wasna safe afore, ye ken."
[Pg 95]
"A MONARCH OF THE GLEN"
Transatlantic Millionaire (surveying one of his deer-forests). "Ha! look there! I see three excursionists! Send 'em to the----!"
Gigantic Gillie (and chucker-out). "If you please, Mr. Dollers, they're excisemen!"
T.M. "I don't care who they are! Send'em to the----!"
G.G. "Yes, Mr. Dollers."
[Proceeds to carry out the order.
[Pg 96]
Sportsman (who declines to be told where to go and what to do by his gillie), after an arduous stalk in the blazing sun, at last manages to crawl within close range of those "brown specks" he dicovered miles distant on the hillside!
[Pg 97]
PROMISING!
Tourist. "Have you any decent cigars?"
Highland Grocer. "Decent cigars? Ay, here are decent
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