Page:Traditional Tales of the English and Scottish Peasantry - 1887.djvu/176

172 with a kind of prolonged delight, and then, diving into the bosom of this mouldy sanctuary of Mammon, fished up the remains of an old stocking. 'Haud thy lap, Penney, my woman,' said the owner; and he emptied with a clang into the maiden's lap upwards of a hundred antique pieces of Scottish gold, which avarice had arrested in their circulation before the accession of the house of Stuart. 'There's as mickle as will array thee for the bridal, and here's documents for property which I will give thee the moment the kirk buckles us.' An old piece of leather, which the diligence of the owner had fashioned from a saddle-lap into a pocketbook, supplied him with sundry papers, which he described as he submitted them to her examination. 'That's a haud fast bond on the lands of the laird of Sloken-drouth for seven hundred pounds Scots, a' sure siller; that's the rights of the lands of Knockhoolie, thirty-five pounds yearly, and ye'll be called the dame of Knockhoolie, a bonnie title and weel sounding.'

"But why should I prolong a story of which all who hearken must know the up-shot? I saw the wicked speed that Mammon made in the maiden's affections, and sat dumbfounded and despairing. Her look, which was one of grave consideration at first, gradually brightened and expanded; she looked at the riches and she looked at him, and said, 'But I'm to have the cheese-siller, and the siller for the udder-locks; a riding habit, brown or blue, or one of both; a grey horse and a side saddle. I am to gang to the two fairs of Dumfries, the St. James's fair of Lanark, to the Cameronian sacrament, and to have a dance twice a year—once at Beltane, and once at Hallowmass.'

All shall be as thou sayest, Penney, my princess,' said her lover, interrupting, probably, a long list of expected luxuries; 'so name the bridal-day.'

"My vexation now exceeded all bounds of decorum, and I spoke: 'I would counsel ye to name the day soon, for the bridegroom has not an hour to lose; the bridal cups will barely be dry before they're lacked for his lyke wake; he has little time to spare.'

"The bride, as I may safely call her, laughed till her eyes were wet, and said: 'Well spoken, young man; that's the most sensible thing ye have said this blessed night; and so, as there is no time to be lost, ye say, let us be married on Saturday; let the fault fall on the lag end of the week.' For