It was on the ootside ο the closs mou that the muckle yett stude, and it and the hoose front door were lockit ilka nicht by my grandfaither, drunk or sober, afore he gaed to bed.
The closs mou was a grand place for a bairn on a wat day, no juist for its rufe and the shelter it gied frae the rain, for the same wad hae been true ο the barn and the cairt sheds. The barn could be desertit for weeks, though, and the cairt sheds, save by the hens, for days, but the closs mou, gin there was ony wark daein aboot the ferm at aa, gat aye its share ο the steer.
No, mind ye, that it wasna a grand place ein on the Saubbath, whan aa wark was sinfou and the closs lay as still as daith, and if there was eir a luckie Saubbath whan it was ower wat to gang to the kirk, though sic came but seldom, it was aye to the closs mou that I gaed to play. For if I wantit to be by my lane, and I did aye on the Saubbath, wi the auld folk sae frichtenin in their black claes. I climmed up the closs mou lether to ane or ither ο the hey-lafts.
The hey-lafts lay aneth the rufe abune the stable and the byre, their doors facin ane anither heich in the closs mou waas, and gin ye werena forkin in hey aff a load on the cairt whan the parks were bein mawn in the simmer, ye had to sclim to the doors by a lang lether, keepit by the yett for that very job.
Aye on a wat Saubbath I sclimmed that lether.
It didna look a bad sclim frae the grun, but by the time ye were hauf wey to the tap ye began to trummle at the knees and woner if the lether wuid was soond, for ye could feel it bendin aneth yer wecht, and ye felt faur frae safe. But efter takin fricht ance or twice, and comin back doun wi my tail atween my legs, I syne ae day managed, and efter that haurdly gied the sclim a thocht.
Ae wat Saubbath in strawberry time, whan the berry-pickers in the barn bothy were sleepin aff their last nicht’s dram, and my grannie and grandfaither were noddin in their chairs by the fire in the fermhoose paurlor, I sclimmed to the laft abune the stable to sit on the hey aneth the skylicht and look doun on the fields ootbye. Ye gat a grand view frae the hey-laft skylichts, and in strawberry time it was fun to watch the daft men frichtening the craws aff the berry beds, for though the feck ο folk had to rest on the Saubbath, the daft men didna. Denner-Time Davie, the pairish meenister, didna seem to think the daft men maittert.
The skylicht in the stable hey-laft lookit ower ae field that lay in the corner whaur the Clyde road met the road frae Lesmahagow. There were big new strawberries in that field caaed Scarlet Queens, and the first crap was ready for the pouin. Daft Sanny had been sent to keep the craws aff it, and there he was, wi a parritch spurtle in ae haund an a tin tray in the ither, walkin up and doun the beds and clatterin for aa he was worth. He was haein a sair time ο it, though, for there was a raw ο beeches aside the Clyde road, and as sune as he scared the craws aff the near end ο the field, anither lot wad flee aff the beeches and land on the faur ane.
There was a wind blawin doun aff the upland ferms that lay abune Tam ο Law’s, and whan Daft Sanny was at the faur end ο the field I could haurdly hear the spurtle on the tray, for the wind took the soond awa to Clyde. And ance, when he gaed faurer ower nor ordinar, richt into the corner at the Lesmahagow road-end, I lost the soond ο the spurtle athegither.
It was then I heard a new soond close at haund. It seemed to come frae somewhaur inbye, amang the hey in the corner ο the laft abune the loose-box, I wadit through the hey to the corner to see whit was whaat.
I cam on a nest ο wee kittlins, pewlin for their minnie.
The puir wee things had haurdly ony hair, and were as blin as bats. They seemed to feel the cauld withoot their minnie, for they gaed borin into ane anither, ilka ane tryin to win to the middle, whaur it was warmest. But as sune as ane had gotten whaur it wantit the ithers on the ootside stertit to fecht their wey in again, sae there was nae rest for ony. The haill kittle keepit on the steer, like kail on the beyl, mewin and mewkin, and shovin wi their tottery hin legs.
I pat doun my haund and gied ane ο them a bit clap, and gat the fricht o my life, for it hissed at me like a wild thing. But I couldna blame the bit craitur, for wi no being able to see it nae dout couldna ken I was juist a wee laddie and didna ettle ony ill. I micht hae been ony body.
I sat watchin for a gey while, faer taen on wi them. Then I thocht that if I gaed to my grannie she micht gie me ane to be my very ain, and I could keep it by itsell in a warm box in the dairy, and feed it wi cream frae a saucer.
I gaed doun the closs mou lether like a streik of lichtnin, and ran for the hoose.
I creepit into the parlour wi the sort ο awed feelin that ye aye hae in a kirk. In the kirk it comes frae the picturs in the winnocks, that keep oot the licht, but in my grannie’s paurlor at Linmill there were white lace curtains that lat the licht through, sae it maun hae come frae the stourie smell ο the horse-hair chairs, the very smell itself ο kirk pew cushions.
My grannie and grandfaither were at their noddin yet, and my grannie was snorin.
I stude for a while feart to wauken her, and had a lang look roun, and the mair I lookit the mair awed I grew, and in the end I made up my mind to wait till the mornin, the room was sae awesome.
It was the stuffed weasel in the gless case abune the kist ο drawers, glowerin at the stuffed rabbit.
But the fire settlet in the grate, and a muckle reid eizle fell oot on the fender, and my grannie opened her een.
She lowpit for the eizle wi the muckle tangs, and syne turnt to me.
‘I thocht ye were gaun to play ootbye, Rab?’
‘Oh Grannie, I fand a nest ο wee kittlins in the stable hey-laft.’
‘Kittlins! Mercy me, we’ll sune hae that mony cats aboot the ferm we’ll need anither cou to gie them aa milk. I’ll hae to get Daft Sanny to tak them to Clyde the morn, and throw them ower Stanebyres Linn.’
‘But I wantit ane for my very ain.’
‘We hae ower mony cats already, I tell ye. Awa ootbye and play.’
I wad hae argied wi her, for aa she was sae crabbit, but my grandfaither opened his een and gied a growl like a chained dug.
‘What’s aa the steer? Can ye no let a body hae a sleep in peace? Awa ootbye, Rab, and dinna come near the hoose again till tea-time.’
I thocht I had better gang.
I gaed awa back to the stable hey-laft to hae anither look at the kittlins, but their minnie was back, and she wadna let me see them. She airched her back and stuck her tail up straucht and hissed at me wi her mou wide open and her lang teeth bare, till I was feart to gang near. My feelins were hurt a wee, to tell the truith, for she was a cat that I had aye pettit, and fed whiles wi cream; a big black and white ane by the name ο Moussie, and I was grieved that she suld think I could ettle her ony hairm.
I gaed back to the hey aneth the skylicht and lay doun to think.
I made up my mind that if my grannie had the kittlins drount I wad leave Linmill at ance and gang back to my minnie. I wadna spend a holiday in her hoose again.
At tea-time the kittlins werena mentioned, and aa at ance I grew cheerie, for I jaloused they were forgotten. I thocht then that if I said naething aa micht yet be weill, and wi luck the kittlins micht hae time to
