Page:Life of Mansie Wauch tailor in Dalkeith (1).pdf/8

8 turning every now and then his sooty face over his shoulder, and mostly stieking his tune, as he could not keep his mouth screwed for laughing. What would I not have given to have laughed to!

There was no time to be lost; this was the Saturday. The next rising sun would shine on the Sabbath. Ah, what a case I was in I could mostly have drowned myself, had I not been frighted. What could I do? My love had vanished like lightning: but oh, I was in a terrible gliff! Instead of gundy, I sold my thrums to Mrs Walnut for a penny, with which I bought at the counter a sheet of paper and a pen; so that in the afternoon I wrote out a letter to the minister, telling him what I had been given to hear, and begging him, for the sake of mercy, not to believe Jess's word, as I was not able to keep a wife, and as she was a leeing gipsy.

The days of the years of my ’prenticeship having glided cannilyeannily [sic] over on the working-board of my respected maister, James Hosey, where I sat working cross-legged like a busy bee, in the true spirit of industrous contentment. I found myself at the end of the seven year, so well instructed in the tailoring trade, to which I had paid a nearsighted attention, that, without more ado, I girt myself round about with a proud determination of at once cutting my mother’s apron string, and venturing to go without a hold. Thinks I to myself “faint heart never won fair lady;” so, taking my stiekstick [sic] in my hand, I set out towards