Martha Spreull: being chapters in the life of a single wumman

60
MARTHA SPREULL.
the occasion—these remarks were never ill ta’en. I mind to
this day a gey droll interruption that took place ae nicht in
the middle o’ David Whammond’s address. The subject wis, I
think, the Origin o’ Evil. The speaker leant ower his desk in
real earnest, and James Reid sat i’ the precentor’s seat wi’ his
head cuist on ae side as if waitin’ for something to pick a
quarrel wi’.
“Did ye niver think o’t, my dear young lassocks,” says
David, laying aside his glesses, “ did ye niver think it wis a
curious thing that the serpent should have come to the woman
—a puir, helpless, unoffensive woman ? But he kent fine what
he wis daein’—he wis cunnin’ enough for that. My dear
young lassocks, if the serpent had come to Adam, dae ye ken
what Adam wud hae dune ? He wud hae chappit aff his heid
wi’ a spade.”
“ Noo, David Whammond, I wonner to hear ye,” says James
Reid; “ man I wonner to hear ye! I never like to accept ony-
thing ye canna prove. Hoo dae ye ken they had spades in
Adam’s time ? ”
“ Do you think, James Reid,” quoth David, lookin’ doon wi’
great dignity, “ do ye think the Lord wis gaun to let Adam
delve the yaird o’ Eden wi’ his fingers ? ”
It’s funny hoo this should come into my heid at sic a
solemn time, but the interruption wis real droll.
So puir David Whammond has won awa’. His wis a faithfu’
life, an’ he had been spared to work out his guid twal ’oors i’ the
vineyaird. It wud hae been an unchristian thing to vex. I
gaed awa’ doon to his dochter’s to see his remains, and I must
alloo it wis as bonny a corp as ever I saw. Weel, as I wis
cornin’ awa’ his dochter took me into the wee room where he
keepit his books, and she tak’s doon ane that had been weel
read and weel thoom’t.