Page:Life of Mansie Wauch tailor in Dalkeith (1).pdf/14

14 The place, as I said before, was choke full, just to excess, so that ane could scarcely breathe. Indeed I never saw ony pairt sae crowded, not even at a tent-preaching, when Mr Roarer was giving his discourses on the building of Solomon’s Temple. We were, obligated to have the windows opened for a mouthful of fresh air, the barn, being as close as a baker’s oven, my neighbour and me fanning our red faces with our hats to keep us cool, and, though all were half stewed, we had the worst o’t, the toddy we had ta’en having fomented the blood of our bodies into a perfect fever.

Just at the time that the twa blind fiddlers were playing the Downfall of Paris, a hand-bell rang and up goes the green curtain, being hauled to the ceiling, as I observed wi’ the tail o’ my ee, by a birkie at the side, that had haud o’ a rope. So, on the music stopping and all becoming as still as that you might have heard a pin fall, in comes a decent old gentleman, at his leasure, weil powdered, wi’ au auld-fashioned coat, and waistcoat wi’ flap pockets, brown breeches, with buckles at the knees, and silk stockings, with red gushets on a blue ground. I never saw a man in sic distress; he stampit about, and better stampit about, dadding the end of his staff on the ground, and emploring all the powers of heaven and yearth to help him to find out his run-awa’ daughter, that had decampit wi’ some neerdowell loon of a halfpay captain, that keppit her in his arms frae her bed-room window, up twa pair o’ stairs. Every father and head of a family maun hae felt for a man in his situation, thus to be