Sir Andrew Wylie of That

SIR ANDREW WYLIE OF THAT ILK BY JOHN GALT NEW EDITION WILLIAM BLACKWOOD AND SONS EDINBURGH AND LONDON MDCCCLXVIII SIR ANDREW WYLIE. CHAPTER I. THE COTTAGE. Sir Andrew Wylie, like the generality of great geniuses, was born and bred in very humble circumstances. By the early death of both his parents, he was consigned in infancy to the care of his maternal grandmother, Martha Docken, one of those clachan carlins who keep alive, among the Scottish peasantry, the tradi- tions and sentiments which constitute so much of the national character. This old woman resided in the hamlet of Stoneyholm, in the shire of Ayr. Her sole breadwinner was her spinning-wheel, and yet she was cheerfully contented with her lot ; for it had pleased heaven to bless her with a blithe spirit, and a religious trust in the goodness of Providence. The furniture of her cottage, in addition to Andrew's cradle, and that was borrowed, consisted of one venerable elbow-chair, with a tall perpendicular back curiously carved, a family-relic of better days, enjoyed by her own or her husband's ancestors ; two buffet-stools, one a little larger than the other ; a small oaken claw-foot table ; her wheel, a hand-reel, a kail-pot, and a skillet, together with a scanty providing of bedding, and a chest, that was at once coffer, wardrope, and ambry. Behind the house she had a patch of some five or six falls of ground for a garden, which she delved and planted herself; and 4 SIB ANDREW WYLIE. the rent she paid for the whole was ten shillings per annum. The gathering of this sum, after she received the heavy handful of Andrew, a weak and ailing baby, required no little care. But instead of repining at the burden, she often declared to the neighbours that he was " great company, and though at times a wee fashious, he's an auld-farand bairn, and kent a raisin frae a clock before tooth putting the taen in his mouth black he had a ; wi' a smirk, but skreighing like desperation at the sight o' the ither." During the summer of the first year after Andrew had been brought home to her, she was generally seen sitting with her wheel, basking in the sun, at the gable of her cottage, with her grandson at her side in her biggest stool, turned upside down, amusing himself with the cat. Andrew was a small and delicate child ; but he grew apace, and every day, in the opinion of his grandmother, improved in his looks. " His een," as she said to her kimmers while she dandled him at the door as they stopped to speak to her in pass- ing, " are like gowans in a May morning, and his laugh's as blithe as the lilt o' the linty." Philosophers, in these expressions, may discover the fond anti- cipations of hopeful affection looking forward to a prosperous fortune for the child ; but Andrew, for a long time, showed no indication of possessing any thing in common with the talents that are usually supposed requisite to ensure distinction or riches. In his boyhood, however, Martha frequently observed " that he was a pawkie laddie, and if he wasna a deacon at book ,'air, he kent as weel as the maister himsel' how mony blue beans it taks to mak five." The "maister" here spoken of was Dominie Tannyhill, one of those meek and modest novices of the Scottish priesthood, who, never happening to meet with any such stroke of good fortune as the lot of a tutor in a laird's family, wear out the even tenor of their blameless days in the little troubles of a village school. At the time when Andrew was placed under his care, the master seemed to be about forty, but he was probably two or three years younger. He was pale and thin, and under the middle size, and stooped a little, as if his head had been set on CHAPTER I.—THE COTTAGE. 5 somewhat awry. It proceeded, however, from a habit which he had acquired, in consequence of being short-sighted, and accus- tomed to write and read with his ear almost touching the paper. At times he would erect himself even into something like an air of dignity, and change his lowly and diffident tone into the voice and accent of an earnest and impassioned eloquence. Every thing in his appearance indicated a moderate spirit, in perfect accordance with the mildness of his manners, and his few and humble acquirements; but there was an apostolic energy in his thoughts, when his own feelings were roused, or when he addressed himself to move those of others, with which nature at times showed how willing she was, if fortune had so pleased, to make him a pathetic and impressive preacher. Whether he ever felt the longings of ambition, or rather, whether he ever repined at the unheeded and unknown estate in which he was left to pass away, like a sequestered spring, whose pure and gentle course is only seen in the meadows by a little narrow edging of richer verdure, could never be discovered in the still sobriety of his placid temper ; but if all other passions were hushed in his quiet bosom, the kindly disposition which he showed towards every living thing begat in the minds of his pupils an affectionate respect, of far greater power in the little state and commonwealth of his school, than would have been yielded to the authority of more arrogant abilities, backed by the taws, that dreaded satrap of Scottish didactic discipline. In his dress, the master was as remarkable as in his mind and manners. His linen was always uncommonly neat, and his coat and vest of raven grey, though long threadbare, never showed a broken thread, nor the smallest stationary speck of dust. His breeches, of olive thickset, were no less carefully preserved from stains; and his dark blue worsted gamashins, reaching above the knees in winter, not only added to the com- fort of his legs, but protected his stockings. Between his cottage and the church, or in the still evenings when he was seen walk- ing solitary along the untrodden parts of the neighbouring moor, he wore a small cocked-hat, and, as his eyes were weak and tender, in bright weather he commonly slackened the loops, b SIR ANDREW WYLIE. and, turning the point round, converted the upright gable of the back into a shade. If the master, like other potentates, had a favourite, it was certainly our hero, at whose droll and whimsical remarks he was sometimes observed almost to smile. For Andrew was not long at school till he showed that he was, at least with respect to his sayings, destined to attract notice. Indeed, the very first day when his grandmother herself led him to the door with his A B board in his hand, he got a name that he never lost. After the dismissal of the school, as he was playing with the other boys on the high-road, a carriage and four horses, with outriders, happened to pass, whirling along with the speed and pride of nobility. The school-boys, exhilarated by the splendour of a phenomenon, rare in those days in Stoneyholm, shouted with gladness as it passed, and our hero animated the shout into laughter, by calling out, "Weel dune, wee wheelie, the muckle ane caiina catch you." From that time he was called "Wheelie;" but, instead of being offended by it, as boys commonly are by their nicknames, he bore it with the greatest good-humour; and afterwards, when he had learned to write, marked his books and copies with " Andrew Wheelie, his book." Even the master in time used to call him Wheelie, and insensibly fostered his taste for the odd and droll, by sometimes inviting him on a Saturday afternoon to partake of his pale and economical tea. Andrew, who was naturally shrewd and observant, perceiving that the master was diverted by his humour, exerted himself on these occasions, by which exercise he gradually acquired a degree of readiness and self-possession in conversation, unusual among Scottish boys, and a happy vernacular phraseology, which he retained through life, and which, with those who had a true relish of character, was enjoyed as something as rare and original as the more elegant endowment of genius. CHAPTEB II. THE MAGPIE. CHAPTER II. THE MAGriE. Andrew was not distinguished among his school-fellows by any particular predilection for those amusements in which the he always boys of a country school are so adventurous ; yet was a desired member of their nesting parties in the spring, and nutting excursions in the autumn; for his drollery and good humour knit their hearts to him ; and if he seldom strung an egg of his own herrying, and absolutely, at all times, refused to risk his neck on the boughs of the hazel, he still brought home his full share of the holyday plunder. On an occasion when a pyet's nest was scaled, only a single young one was found ; and it was so strong and cunning, that it almost escaped from the grasp of Willy Cunningham, the boy who was sent up the tree. Some debate ensued on the division of the day's spoil, as to who should get the magpie. Andrew thought it ought to be given to Willy; but Cunningham, a frank and generous fellow, insisted that it should be Wheelie's, assigning as a reason, that Maggy, as Andrew had called it on the spot, "was an auld-farand thing like himsel', and would learn mair wi' him than wi' ony other laddie at the school." Cun- ningham's proposal was ratified with a unanimous shout; and certainly no bird was ever more appropriately disposed of, for Andrew not only taught it to fetch and carry, and to filch with surprising address, but to speak several words with the most diverting distinctness.

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