away, Kilmarkeckle,’ said he, meeting him at the door; ‘come in by – what’s the best o’ your news this morning? I hope nothing’s wrang at hame, to gar you look sae as ye were fasht?’
‘Troth,’ replied Kilmarkeckle, ‘I hae got a thing this morning that’s very vexatious. Last year, at Beltane, ye should ken, I coft frae Donald M’Sneeshen, the tobacconist aboon the Cross of Glasgow, a canister of a kind that I ca’d the Linty. It was sae brisk in the smeddum, so pleasant to the smell, garring ye trow in the sniffling that ye were sitting on a bonny green knowe in hay time, by the side of a blooming whin-bush, hearkening to the blithe wee birdies singing sangs, as it were, to pleasure the summer’s sun; and what would ye think, Mr. Walkinshaw, here is another canister of a sort that I’ll defy ony ordinary nose to tell the difference, and yet, for the life o’ me, I canna gie’t in conscience anither name than the Hippopotamus.’
‘But hae ye spoken to your dochter?’ said Grippy, interrupting him, and apprehensive of a dissertation.
‘O aye, atweel I hae done that.’
‘And what did Miss Betty say?’
‘Na, an ye had but seen and heard her, ye would just hae dee’t, Mr. Walkinshaw. I’m sure I wonder wha the lassie taks her light-hearted merriment frae, for her mother was a sober and sedate sensible woman; I never heard her jocose but ance, in a’ the time we were thegither, and that was when I expounded to her how Maccaba is like a nightingale, the whilk, as I hae seen and read in print, is a feathert fowl that has a great notion o’ roses.’
‘I was fear’t for that,’ rejoined Claud, suspecting that Miss Betty had ridiculed the proposal.
‘But to gae back to the Linty and the Hippopotamus,’ resumed Kilmarkeckle. ‘The snuff that I hae here in this canister – tak a pree o’t, Mr. Walkinshaw – it was sent me in a present frae Mr. Glassford, made out of the primest hogget in his last cargo – what think ye o’t? Noo, I would just speer gin ye could tell wherein it may be likened to a hippopotamus, the which is a creature living in the rivers of Afrikaw, and has twa ivory teeth, bigger, as I am creditably informed, than the blade o’ a scythe.’
Claud, believing that his proposal had been rejected, and not desirous of reverting to the subject, encouraged the philosopher to talk, by saying, that he could not possibly imagine how snuff could be said to resemble any such creature.
‘That’s a’ that ye ken!’ said Kilmarkeckle, chuckling with pleasure, and inhaling a pinch with the most cordial satisfaction. ‘This snuff is just as like a hippopotamus as the other sort that was sae like it was like a linty; and nothing could be plainer; for even now when I hae’t in my nostril, I think I see the creature wallowing and wantoning in some wide river in a lown sunny day, wi’ its muckle glad e’en, wamling wi’ delight in its black head, as it lies lapping in the clear caller water, wi’ its red tongue, twirling and twining round its ivory teeth, and every now and then giving another lick.’
‘But I dinna see any likeness in that to snuff, Mr. Bodle,’ said Claud.
‘That’s most extraordinary, Mr. Walkinshaw; for surely there is a likeness somewhere in every thing that brings another thing to mind; and although as yet I’ll no point out to you the vera particularity in a hippopotamus by which this snuff gars me think o’ the beast, ye must, nevertheless, allow past a’ dispute, that there is a particularity.’
Claud replied with ironical gravity, that he thought the snuff much more like a meadow, for it had the smell and flavour of new hay.
‘Ye’re no far frae the mark, Grippy; and now I’ll tell you wherein the likeness lies. The hay, ye ken, is cut down by scythes in meadows; meadows lie by water-sides: the teeth of the hippopotamus is as big as scythes; and he slumbers and sleeps in the rivers of Afrikaw; so the snuff, smelling like hay, brings a’ thae things to mind; and therefore it is like a hippopotamus.’
After enjoying a hearty laugh at this triumph of his reasoning, the philosopher alighted from his hobby, and proceeded to tell Claud that he had spoken to his daughter, and that she had made no objection to the match.
‘Heavens preserve us, Mr. Bodle!’ exclaimed Grippy; ‘what were ye havering sae about a brute beast, and had sic blithsome news to tell me?’
They then conversed somewhat circumstantially regarding the requisite settlements, Kilmarkeckle agreeing entirely with every thing that the sordid and cunning bargainer proposed, until the whole business was arranged, except the small particular of ascertaining how the appointed bridegroom stood affected. This, however, his father undertook to manage, and also that Walter should go in the evening to Kilmarkeckle, and in person make a tender of his heart and hand to the blooming, boisterous, and bouncing Miss Betty.
CHAPTER XXV
‘Watty,’ said the Laird o’ Grippy to his hopeful heir, calling him into the room, after Kilmarkeckle had retired, —
‘Watty, come ben and sit down; I want to hae some solid converse wi’ thee. Dist t’ou hearken to what I’m saying? – Kilmarkeckle has just been wi’ me – Hear’st t’ou me? – deevil an I saw the like o’ thee – what’s t’ou looking at? As I was saying, Kilmarkeckle has been here, and he was thinking that you and his dochter’ —
‘Weel,’ interrupted Watty, ‘if ever I saw the like o’ that. There was a Jenny Langlegs bumming at the corner o’ the window, when down came a spider wabster as big as a puddock, and claught it in his arms; and he’s off and awa wi’ her intil his nest; – I ne’er saw the like o’t.’
‘It’s most extraordinar, Watty Walkinshaw,’ exclaimed his father peevishly, ‘that I canna get a mouthful o’ common sense out o’ thee, although I was just telling thee o’ the greatest advantage that t’ou’s ever likely to meet wi’ in this world. How would ye like Miss Betty Bodle for a wife?’
‘O father!’
‘I’m saying, would na she make a capital Leddy o’ the Plealands?’
Walter made no reply, but laughed, and chucklingly rubbed his hands, and then delightedly patted the sides of his thighs with them.
‘I’m sure ye canna fin’ ony fau’t wi’ her; there’s no a brawer nor a better tocher’d lass in the three shires. – What think’st t’ou?’
Walter suddenly suspended his ecstasy; and grasping his knees firmly, he bent forward, and, looking his father seriously in the face, said, —
‘But will she no thump me? Ye mind how she made my back baith black and blue. – I’m frightit.’
‘Haud thy tongue wi’ sic nonsense; that happened when ye were but bairns. I’m sure there’s no a blither, bonnier quean in a’ the kintra side.’
‘I’ll no deny that she has red cheeks, and e’en like blobs o’ honey-dew in a kail-blade; but father – Lord, father! she has a neive like a beer mell.’
‘But for a’ that, a sightly lad like you might put up wi’ her, Watty. I’m sure ye’ll gang far, baith east and west, before ye’ll meet wi’ her marrow; and ye should reflek on her tocher, the whilk is a wull-ease that’s no to be found at ilka dykeside.’
‘Aye, so they say; her uncle ’frauded his ain only dochter, and left her a stocking-fu’ o’ guineas for a legacy. – But will she let me go halver?’
‘Ye need na misdoubt
