Oor ain folk times

PRIVATE STILLS 5
frame, and when I remember her, the dear old face was
seamed with countless wrinkles like the skin of a
withered apple, — to which, indeed, it bore no slight
resemblance, — -and her breath was just as sweet as the
aroma of the fruit. She always had her pockets — and
what capacious pockets they were — full of dainties for
the better -behaved and more -favoured of her grand-
children. I regret to say that while I may have been
of the latter, I cannot claim to have belonged to the
former categor}^
I never saw my grandfather ; he had long ' gone
to his rest ' before I appeared upon this troubled
scene ; but to this day stories are current among the
glens of his quaint humour and kindly ways, which
show that he must have possessed, in no ordinary
degree, the affections of the dwellers of these secluded
valleys. They were keen critics too, and possessed
of wonderful shrewdness, and one who could thus
impress his individuality upon them must have been
a man of no mean attainments. All the stories
I have heard of him seem to bear this out. Of
course the times were rude. Many of the old customs
have happily long since died out. It was before the
era of large farms and great deer forests. The modern
shooting-lodge was an unknown institution, and wire
fencing was a thing not then invented.
The distilling of illicit spirits was a flourishing
industry in nearly every glen, and many a fierce fight
took place between the vendors of that toothsome
commodity known as ' Peat-reek ' whisky, and the
custodians of His Majesty's Excise. On one occasion a
famous old smuggler named ' Geordie White ' rather