Life of a Scotch Naturalist 8

Life of a Scotch Naturalist 8

On reaching home, he told his parents the circumstances connected with

his expulsion. He also added that he wouldn’t go to school any more; at

all events, he wouldn’t go back to “yon school.” He would rather go to

work. He was told that he was too young to work; for he was scarcely

six years old. His father proposed to take him to the Lancaster school

on the following day, for the purpose of inducing the master to take

back the boy.

 

[Sidenote: _A NIGHT UNDER THE LOGS._]

 

The next day arrived. His father came home from his work for the

purpose of taking the boy to school; but Tom had disappeared. He

would not go back. He went first to the fish-market, where he spent

the greater part of the day. Then he went down to the Inches. From

thence he went towards the logs, and whilst there with a few more

boys preparing sparrow-traps, one of them called out “Tam, there’s yer

faither!” Tom immediately got up, and ran away; his father, following

him, called out “Stop, sir! stop, sir! come back, come back, will

you!” Tom’s father was a long slender man, and could not stand much

running. He soon dropt behind, while Tom went out Deeside way like

a lamplighter. He never stopped until he reached the Clayholes. Not

seeing his father following him, he loitered about there until it was

nearly dark; he then returned, keeping a close look-out and ready to

run off again. At length, about dark, he got back to the logs.

 

It must be mentioned that on the spare ground above the Inches large

piles of logs were laid, some of them of great size. The logs were

floated down the Dee, and were laid there until the timber merchants

found it convenient to take them away. Little care being exercised

in putting up the piles, there were often large openings left at the

ends. Instead of going home, the boy got into one of these openings,

and crept in as far as he could get. But though he was in a measure out

of sight, he soon found that he could obtain very little shelter for

the night. He was barefooted, and his clothes were thin and raggy. The

wind blew through the logs, and he soon became very cold. He shivered

till his teeth chattered. The squeaking and jumping of the rats, of

whom there seemed to be myriads, kept him awake. It was so different

from being snug in his warm bed, that he once thought of getting out

of his hole and running home. But he was terrified to do that, and

thus encounter his father’s strap,—his back being still so sore from

the effects of his flogging at school. The cold continued to increase,

especially towards the small hours of the morning. Indeed, he never

experienced so bitterly cold a night in the whole course of his life.

 

[Sidenote: _A FRUITLESS SEARCH._]

 

At length morning began to dawn. The first streaks of light were

tinging the eastern sky, when Tom prepared to get out of his hole and

have a run in the open ground to warm himself. He was creeping out of

the logs for the purpose, when in the dim morning light he thought he

saw the figure of a man. Yes! it was his father. He saw him moving

about, among the sawpits, the logs, and the piles of wood. Tom crept

farther into his hole among the logs; and on looking out again, he

found his father had disappeared. Half-an-hour later he appeared again;

and after going over the former ground, he proceeded in the direction

of the Inches. In a few minutes he descended to the channel, doubtless

with the intention of crossing, as the tide was out at the time.

 

[Sidenote: _EDWARD’S RETURN HOME._]

 

Now, thought Tom, is my opportunity. He crept out of his hole, went

round the farther end of the logs, up Lower Dee Street, past the

carpet-weaver’s, up Carmelite Street, and then home. Just as he reached

the top of the stair, Mrs. Kelman, the kindly “neibour,” who had been

kept up all night by the troubles of the Edward family, took him by

the collar, and said, “Eh, laddie, ye hae gien yer folk a sair nicht

o’t! But bide a wee, I’ll gang in wi’ ye!” As she entered the door,

she exclaimed, “Here he’s again, Maggie, a’ safe!” “Oh, ye vagaboon,”

said the mother, “where hae ye been a’ nicht? Yer faither’s oot seekin’

ye. I wonder how I can keep my hands aff ye.” “No, no, Maggie,” said

Mrs. Kelman, “ye winna do that. But I’ll tell ye what ye’ll do. Gie him

some meat, and let him get to his bed as fast as he can.” “His bed?”

said his mother, “he shanna bed here till his faither comes in.” “Just

gie him something, Maggie, and get him oot o’ the road.” After some

parleying, Tom got something to eat, and was in bed, with the blankets

over him, before his father returned.

 

“Weel, John,” said Mrs. Kelman, “ye hinna gotten him?” “No.” “Ye hinna

gaun to the right place!” “The right place!” said John, “who on earth

could tell the right place for such a wandering Jew as he is?” “Weel,

I’ve got him.” “Where?” “At the head o’ the stair!” “And where is he

now?” “Where he should be.” “That’s in Bridewell!” “No, no, John, dinna

say that.” “Where, then?” “In his bed.” “What! here? And before I have

paid him for his night’s work?” “Now, John, just sit doun and hae a

cup o’ tea wi’ Maggie and me before you go to your wark; and if ye hae

onything to say to the laddie, ye can say it when he gets up.” “You

always take his part, Mrs. Kelman, always!”

 

Tom lay quaking in bed. He heard all that was said. He peeped out of

the blankets; but when he saw his father sit down, he knew that all was

safe. And when he had his friendly cup o’ tea, and went to his work,

Tom fell fast asleep. He did not awake until midday, when his father

returned to dinner. Being observed to move in his bed, his father

ordered him to get up. This set him a-crying, and he exclaimed that “he

wudna gang back to yon school.” His mother now asked the reason why he

was so bitter against going to “yon school.” He then told them how he

had been treated by the master, and how his back was sore yet.

 

[Sidenote: _RESULTS OF HIS PUNISHMENT._]

 

His back was then looked at, and it was found that his shirt was

hard with clotted blood, and still sticking to his skin. The wales

extended right down to his legs. Means were adopted to soften the

shirt and remove it from the skin. But while that was being done, the

boy fell back and fainted away. On coming to himself, he found his

mother bathing his brow with cold water, and Mrs. Kelman holding a

smelling-bottle to his nose, which made his eyes run with water. A

large piece of linen, covered with ointment, was then put upon his

back. His father went away, ordering him to keep the house, and not to

go out that day.

 

Whatever may have passed between his parents he did not know. He was

in bed and asleep when his father returned at night. But he was never

asked to return to the Lancaster school.

 

[Illustration: AULTEN LINKS, ABERDEEN.]

 

[Sidenote: _THE AULTEN LINKS._]

 

He had now plenty of time for excursions into the country. He wandered

up the Dee and along the banks of the Don on both sides. He took long

walks along shore,—across the Aulten Links to the Auld Brig,—and even

up to the mountains, which at Aberdeen approach pretty near to the

coast.

 

[Sidenote: _HUNT AFTER AN ADDER._]

 

During one of his excursions on the hills of Torrie, near the

commencement of the Grampians, while looking for blaeberries and

crawberries, Edward saw something like the flash of an eel gliding

through amongst the heather. He rushed after it, and pounced down upon

it with both hands, but the animal had escaped. He began to tear up the

heather, in order to get at it. His face streamed with perspiration. He

rested for a time, and then began again. Still there was no animal, nor

a shadow of one.

 

At this time another boy came up, and asked, “What are ye doing there?”

“Naething.” “D’ye call that naething?” pointing to about a cart-load of

heather torn up. “Have ye lost onything?” “No.” “What are ye looking

for then?” “For something like an eel!” “An eel!” quoth the lad; “do ye

think ye’ll find an eel amang heather? It’s been an _adder_, and it’s

well ye havena gotten it. The beast might have bitten ye to death.”

“No fear o’ that,” said Edward. “How long is it sin’ ye saw it?” “Some

minutes.” “If that’s the case, it may be some miles up the hills by

this time. Which way was it gaun?” “That way.” “Well,” said the lad,

“you see that heap o’ stones up there? try them, and if you do not find

it there, you may gang hame and come back again, and then ye’ll just be

as near finding it as ye are now.” “Will ye help me?” asked Edward. “Na

faith, I dinna want to be bitten to death.” And so saying, he went away.

 

Edward then proceeded to the pile of stones which had been pointed

out, to make a search for the animal. He took stone after stone off

the heap, and still there was no eel. There were plenty of worms and

insects, but these he did not want. A little beyond the stones lay a

large piece of turf. He turned it over, and there the creature was! He

was down upon it in an instant, and had it in his hand! He looked at

the beast. It was not an eel. It was very like an asp, but it was six

or seven times longer.

 

[Sidenote: _TAKES HOME THE ADDER._]

 

Having tightened his grip of the beast, for it was trying to wriggle

out of his hand, he set out for home. He struck the Dee a little below

where the Chain Bridge now stands, reaching the ford opposite Dee

village, and prepared to cross it. But the water being rather deep at

the time, he had to strip and wade across, carrying his clothes in one

hand and the “eel” in the other. He had only one available hand, so

that getting off and on his clothes, and wading the river breast high,

occupied some time.

 

On reaching the top of Carmelite Street, he observed his mother, Mrs.

Kelman, and some other women, standing together at the street door.

He rushed in amongst them with great glee, and holding up his hand,

exclaimed, “See, mother, sic a bonnie beastie I’ve gotten.” On looking

at the object he held in his hand, the conclave of women speedily

scattered. They flew in all directions. Edward’s mother screamed, “The

Lord preserv’s! what the sorrow’s that ye hae noo?” “Oh, Meggy, Meggy,”

said Mrs. Kelman, “it’s a snake! Dinna let him in! For ony sake dinna

let him in, or we’ll a’ be bitten.” The entry door was then shut and

bolted, and Tom was left out with the beast in his hand.

 

Mrs. Kelman’s husband then made his appearance. “What’s this, Tam, that

has caused such a flutter amongst the wives?” “Only this bit beastie.”

Kelman started back. “What, has it not bitten you?” “No!” “Well,”

he added, “the best thing you can do with it, is to take it to Dr.

Ferguson as fast as you can, for you can’t be allowed to bring it in

here.”

 

Dr. Ferguson kept a druggist’s shop at the corner of Correction Wynd,

near the head of the Green. He had a number of creatures suspended in

glass jars in his window. Boys looked in at these wonderful things.

They were the admiration of the neighbours. Some said that these

extraordinary things had come from people’s “insides.” Tom had often

been there before with big grubs, piebald snails, dragonflies, and

yellow puddocks. So he went to Dr. Ferguson with his last new prize.

 

[Sidenote: _THE ADDER SOLD._]

 

He was by this time surrounded by a number of boys like himself. They

kept, however, at a respectable distance. When he moved in their

direction, they made a general stampede. At length he arrived at the

Doctor’s door. When the Doctor saw the wriggling thing that he was

holding in his hand, he ordered him out of the shop, and told him to

wait in the middle of the street until he had got a bottle ready for

the reception of the animal. Tom waited until the bottle was ready,

when he was told that when he had gotten the snake in, he must cork

the bottle as firmly as possible. The adder was safely got in and

handed to the Doctor, who gave Tom fourpence for the treasure. Next day

it appeared in the window, to the general admiration of the inhabitants.

 

[Sidenote: _TOM’S REWARD._]

 

Tom hastened home with his fourpence. On entering the house he

encountered his father, who seized him by the neck, and asked, “Where’s

that venomous beast that you had?” “I left it with Dr. Ferguson.” “But

have you no more?” “No.” “That’s very strange! You seldom come home

with so few things about you. But we shall see.” The boy was then

taken into the back yard, where he was ordered to strip. Every bit of

clothing was shaken, examined, and searched; the father standing by

with a stick. Nothing was found, and Tom was allowed to put on his clothes and go up stairs to bed.