lyin' aboot here,' Chirsty, the wife of Tammas, said, eyeing the telegram as something that might go off at any moment; 'ye'll better tak it on to 'imsel. He's takkin a dander through the buryin' ground wi' Snecky Hobart.'
Sandersy marched through the east town end at the head of his following, and climbed the steep, straight brae that leads to the cemetery. There he came upon the stone-breaker and the bellman strolling from grave to grave. Silva McQuhatty and Sam'l Todd were also in the burying-ground for pleasure, and they hobbled toward Tammas when they saw the telegram in his hand.
'"Thomas Haggart,"' the stone-breaker murmured, reading out his own name on the envelope, '"Tenements, Thrums."' Then he stared thoughtfully at his neighbours to see whether that could be looked upon as news. It was his first telegram.
'Ay, ay, deary me,' said Silva mournfully.
'She's no very expliceet, do ye think?' asked Sam'l Todd.
Snecky Hobart, however, as an official himself, had a general notion of how affairs of state are conducted.
'Rip her open, Tammas,' he suggested. 'That's but the shell, I'm thinkin'.'
'Does she open?' asked Tammas, with a grin.
He opened the telegram gingerly, and sat down on a prostrate tombstone to consider it. Snecky's fingers tingled to get at it.
'It begins in the same wy,' the stone-breaker said deliberately; '"Thomas Haggart, Tenements, Thrums."'
'Ay, ay, deary me,' repeated Silva.
'That means it's to you,' Snecky said to Tammas.
'Next,' continued Tammas, 'comes, "Elizabeth Haggart, 101, Lower Fish Street, Whitechapel, London."'
'She's a' names thegether,' muttered Sam'l Todd, in a tone of remonstrance.
'She's a' richt,' said Snecky, nodding to Tammas to proceed. 'Elizabeth Haggart—that's wha the telegram comes frae.'
'Ay, ay,' said the stone-breaker doubtfully, 'but I ken no Elizabeth Haggart.'
'Hoots,' said Snecky; 'it's your ain dochter Lisbeth.'
'Keep us a',' said Tammas, 'so it is. I didna un'erstan' at first; ye see we aye called her Leeby. Ay, an' that's whaur she bides in London too.'
'Lads, lads,' said Silva, 'an' is Leeby gone? Ay, ay, we all fade as a leaf; so we do.'
'What!' cried Tammas, his hand beginning to shake.
'Havers,' said Snecky, 'ye hinna come to the telegram proper yet, Tammas. What mair does it say?'
The stone-breaker conned over the words, and by and by his face wrinkled with excitement. He puffed his cheeks, and then let the air rush through his mouth like an escape of gas.
'It's Rob Angus,' he blurted out.
'Man, man,' said Silva, 'an' him lookit sae strong an' snod when he was here i' the back-end o' last year.'
'He's no deid,' cried Tammas, 'he's mairit. Listen, lads, "The thing is true Rob Angus has married the colonel's daughter at a castle Rob Angus has married the colonel."'
'Losh me!' said Sam'l, 'I never believed he would manage't.'
'Ay, but she reads queer,' said Tammas. 'First she says Rob's mairit the dochter, an' neist 'at he's mairit the colonel.'
'Twa o' them!' cried Silva, who was now in a state to believe anything.
Snecky seized the telegram, and thought it over.
'I see what Leeby's done,' he said admiringly. 'Ye're restreected to twenty words in a telegram, an' Leeby found she had said a' she had to say in fourteen words, so she's repeated hersel to get her full shilling's worth.'
'Ye've hit it, Snecky,' said Tammas. 'It's juist what Leeby would do. She was aye a michty thrifty, shrewd crittur.'
'A shilling's an awfu' siller to fling awa, though,' said Sam'l.
'It's weel spent in this case,' retorted Tammas, sticking up for his own; 'there hasna been sic a startler in Thrums since the English kirk steeple fell.'
'Ye can see Angus's saw-mill frae here,' exclaimed Silva, implying that this made the affair more wonderful than ever.
'So ye can,' said Snecky, gazing at it as if it were some curiosity that had been introduced into Thrums in the night-time.
'To think,' muttered Tammas, ''at the saw-miller doon there should be mairit in a castle. It's beyond all. Oh, it's beyond, it's beyond.'
'Sal, though,' said Sam'l suspiciously, 'I wud like a sicht o' the castle. I mind o' readin' in a booky 'at every Englishman's hoose is his castle, so I'm thinkin' castle's but a name in the sooth for an ord'nar hoose.'
'Weel a wat, ye never can trust thae foreigners,' said Silva; 'it's weel beknown 'at English is an awful pretentious langitch too. They slither ower their words in a hurried wy 'at I canna say I like; no, I canna say I like it.'
'Will Leeby hae seen the castle?' asked Sam'l.
'Na,' said Tammas; 'it's a lang wy frae London; she'll juist hae heard o' the mairitch.'
'It'll hae made a commotion in London, I dinna doot,' said Snecky, 'but, lads, it proves as the colonel man stuck to Rob.'
'Ay, I hardly expected it.'
'Ay, ay, Snecky, ye 're richt. Rob'll hae manage't him. Weel, I will say this for Rob Angus, he was a crittur 'at was terrible fond o' gettin' his ain wy.'
'The leddy had smoothed the thing ower wi' her faither,' said Tammas, who was notorious for his knowledge of women; 'ay, an' there was a brither, ye mind? Ane o' the servants up at the Lodge said to Kitty Wobster 'at they were to be mairit the same day, so I've nae doot they were.'
'Ay,' said Sam'l, pricking up his ears, 'an' wha was the brither gettin'?'
'Weel, it was juist gossip, ye understan'. But I heard tell 'at the leddy had a tremendous tocher, an' 'at she was called Meredith.'
'Meredith!' exclaimed Silva McQuhatty, 'what queer names some o' thae English fowk has; ay, I prefer the ord'nar names mysel.'
'I wonder,' said Snecky, looking curiously at the others, 'what Rob has in the wy o' wages?'
'That's been discuss't in every hoose in Thrums,' said Sam'l, 'but there's no doubt it's high, for it's a salary; ay, it's no wages.'
'I dinna ken what Rob has,' Silva said, 'but some o' thae writers makes awfu' sums. There's the yeditor o' the Tilliedrum Weekly Herald noo. I canna tell his income, but I have it frae Dite Deuchars, wha kens, 'at he pays twa-an'-twenty pound o' rent for's hoose.'
'Ay, but Rob's no a yeditor,' said Sam'l.
'Ye're far below the mark wi' Rob's salary,' said Tammas. 'My ain opeenion is 'at he has a great hoose in London by this time, wi' twa or three servants, an' a lad in knickerbuckers to stan' ahent his chair and reach ower him to cut the roast beef.'
'It
