Perthshire in bygone days

236 PERTHSHIRE IN BYGONE DAYS.
dential, the other, which was at a considerable distance,
managed by a land steward whose name was Eobert Bell.
A rumour found its way into the columns of the Constitu-
tional that certain underlings on the distant property had
been interfering with the tenants, which the Advertiser
denied. The proprietor's agent waited on him in order
to have inquiry instituted ; and not being able absolutely
to contradict the report, they judged it best to announce a
searching investigation, and to put, in strong terms, the
personal annoyance the report had given the worthy laird.
Accordingly, in next week's paper, a somewhat lengthy
paragraph, explanatory of the gentleman's feelings, and the
peremptory orders he had given his agent, appeared, which
paragraph ought to have ended thus : " Go to Bell at once,
and see if any one has been interfering with my tenants ;
and if you find it so, I shall go myself and clear the place
forthwith." This was very well, and very spirited; but,
unfortunately, the compositor, either by mistake or wag-
gishly, inserted an H for a B at the beginning of Mr.
Bell's name, which produced a reading without any parallel
in election literature. The remainder of the edition was
printed correctly, and the matter, so far as it was possible,
discreetly stifled. It oozed out gently, however, and poor
Penny was afterwards frequently saluted on the street —
" Is come back yet ? and how are his tenants thriving
— are they ill for rain ? "
The troubles of " literary and commercial factotum " lay
heavy on Penny, and many a time and oft he vowed to
shake them off, but he was too slow in action, and they shook
him into his grave. He oiled the troubled waters until his
horn ran dry, and the worst of it was, when his trouble
ceased another's began.
In the beginning of 1834, George was sitting in his office
pondering over the evils of life, and wondering what would
be the next source of vexation that would arise to him.
He had not long to wait, for the door was thrown open,
and two gentlemen came in, bringing with them a man — all
blood, and frightfully battered and torn — whom they had
found sitting on the side of the Edinburgh Boad, near the
Cloven Craigs. The man's story was, that he had been
attacked about a mile beyond the Bridge of Earn, dragged
into a plantation by two drovers, robbed, and nearly
strangled. The sub-editor inserted the story, heading it,
" Brutal attack on a poor man by two villains," thinking