Scotland/Scots > Johnny Gibb of Gushetneuk

THE “SETTIN’” OF GUSHETNEUK.
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merely “ roupit aff” at Claybogs, and being transferred to a
croft near by, placidly cultivated the same, or refrained from
cultivating it, as he had a mind, for the remaining period of
his life. Well; if Sir Simon’s system had its drawbacks, I
am not sure that the system which has succeeded it is quite
faultless.
Anyhow, things being thus, the report that Johnny Gibb,
the souter, and the smith were to be turned off, caused no
little sensation in the neighbourhood, as the 25th October,
1846, being the day of letting, approached.
“Na; but it’s keerious no, that Dawvid sudna been owre
bye ere this time to gi’e’s the rinnins o’ the maitter.”
The speaker was Mrs. Birse, and she addressed her hus¬
band and her eldest son, Peter, when they had finished their
breakfast on the morning in question.
“Hooever, he has sae mony things to deteen’im ; ye’ll
baith rank yersel’s eenoo an’ be ready in richt time to gae up
to the Hoose.”
“ Fat wud be the eese o’ that; we’ll be in gweed time this
twa ’oors,” quoth Peter, junior, rising and making his way
toward the parlour door. “ Aw’m gyaun awa’ to lat oot the
stirks an’ ca’ them to the Backhill, faur Mains’s orra man’s
reddin oot the mairch stank, till aw see foo he’s gettin’ on.”
“Noo, Patie, fat eese has the like o’ you to be gyaun
treeshin an’ ca’in’ aboot at nowte beasts eenoo.”
Peter went, however; and, as Mrs. Birse could do no better,
she called after him, “ Min’, noo, and nae bide owre lang.
Ye ken Sir Seemon’s vera punctooal, an”s nain words to
Dawvid wus to bid ‘ every one be there by twel’ o’clock.’—
Na, man, but aw mitha bidden you pit on yer claith breeks i’
the mornin’! There ye hae them skaikit wi’ skirps o’ sham
bree to the vera waistban’.”
“Hoot, ’oman, it’s naething o’ the kin’; ye ken they ve
hed that marks o’ them this three towmons,” and Peter Birse,
senior, wetted his thumb and proceeded to rub at certain
spots on the rather shrivelled-looking sooty-black unmention¬
ables in which the lower part of his person was enclosed.
“ Noo, min’ yer nae to gae throu’ yer gremmar gin Sir
Seemon speer onything aboot the Free Kirk at ye, fan ye’re
sattlin aboot Gushetneuk ; as it’s nait’ral that he will.”
“ Weel, gin he speer, aw maun jist till ’im the trowth ; ye '
ken brawly that I never was a weel-wuller till gyaun awa’ fae
the Pairis’ Kirk.”
“ There’s mair wyes o’ tellin’ the trowth nor ane, man;