_ STORY ONE - CHAPTER 15. A DREAM AND A BALL
That evening Mr Sudberry, having spent the day in a somewhat excited state--having swept everything around him, wherever he moved, with his coat-tails, as with the besom of destruction--having despatched a note to the nearest constabulary station, and having examined the bolts and fastenings of the windows of the White House--sat down after supper to read the newspaper, and fell fast asleep, with his head hanging over the back of his chair, his nose turned up to the ceiling, and his mouth wide open. His loving family--minus Tilly and Jacky, who were abed-- encircled the table, variously employed; and George stood at his elbow, fastening up a pair of bookshelves of primitive construction, coupled together by means of green cord.
While thus domestically employed, they heard a loud, steady thumping outside. The Sudberrys were well acquainted by this time with that sound and its cause. At first it had filled Mrs Sudberry with great alarm, raising in her feeble mind horrible reminiscences of tales of burglary and midnight murder. After suffering inconceivable torments of apprehension for two nights, the good lady could stand it no longer, and insisted on her husband going out to see what it could be. As the sound appeared to come from the cottage, or off-shoot from the White House, in which the McAllisters lived, he naturally went there, and discovered that the noise was caused by the stoutest of the two servant-girls. This sturdy lass, whose costume displayed a pair of enormous ankles to advantage, and exhibited a pair of arms that might have made a prize-fighter envious, was standing in the middle of the floor, with a large iron pot before her and a thick wooden pin in her hands, with the end of which she was, according to her own statement, "champin' tatties."
Mrs McAllister, her son, Hugh and Dan, and the other servant-girl, were seated round the walls of the room, watching the process with deep interest, for their supper was in that pot. The nine dogs were also seated round the room, watching the process with melancholy interest; for their supper was _not_ in that pot, and they knew it, and wished it was.
"My dear," said Mr Sudberry, on returning to the parlour, "they are 'champing tatties.'"
"What?"
"'Champing tatties,' in other words, mashing potatoes, which it would seem, with milk, constitute the supper of the family."
Thus was Mrs Sudberry's mind relieved, and from that night forward no further notice was taken of the sound.
But on the present occasion the champing of the tatties had an unwonted effect on Mr Sudberry. It caused him to dream, and his dreams naturally took a pugilistic turn. His breathing became quick and short; his face began to twitch; and Lucy suggested that it would be as well to "awake papa," when papa suddenly awaked himself; and hit George a tremendous blow on the shoulder.
"Hallo! father," cried George remonstratively, rubbing the assaulted limb; "really, you know, if you come it in this way often, you will alienate my affections, I fear."
"My dear boy!--what?--where? Why, I was dreaming!"
Of course he was, and the result of his dream was that everybody in the room started up in surprise and excitement. Thereafter they sat down in a gay and very talkative humour. Soon afterwards a curious squeaking was heard in the adjoining cottage, and another thumping sound began, which was to the full as unremitting as, and much more violent than, that caused by "champin' tatties." The McAllister household, having supped, were regaling themselves with a dance.
"What say to a dance with them?" said George.
"Oh!" cried Lucy, leaping up.
"Capital!" shouted Mr Sudberry, clapping his hands.
A message was sent in. The reply was, "heartily welcome!" and in two minutes Mr Sudberry and stout servant-girl Number 1, George and stout girl Number 2, Hugh and Lucy, Dan and Hobbs, (the latter consenting to act as girl Number 3), were dancing the Reel o' Tullochgorum like maniacs, to the inspiring strains of McAllister's violin, while Peter sat in a corner in constant dread of being accidentally sat down upon. Fred, in another corner, looked on, laughed, and was caressed furiously by the nine dogs. Mrs Sudberry talked philosophy in the window, with grave, earnest Mrs McAllister, whose placid equanimity was never disturbed, but flowed on, broad and deep, like a mighty river, and whose interest in all things, small and great, seemed never to flag for a moment.
The room in which all this was going on was of the plainest possible description. It was the hall, the parlour, the dining-room, the drawing-room, and the library of the McAllister Family. Earth was the floor, white-washed and uneven were the walls, non-existent was the ceiling, and black with peat-smoke were the rafters. There was a dresser, clean and white, and over it a rack of plates and dishes. There was a fire-place--a huge yawning gulf; with a roaring fire, (for culinary purposes only, being summer),--and beside it a massive iron gallows, on which to hang the family pot. Said pot was a caldron; so big was it that there was a species of winch and a chain for raising and lowering it over the fire; in fact, a complicated sort of machinery, mysterious and soot-begrimed, towered into the dark depths of the ample chimney. There was a brown cupboard in one corner, and an apoplectic eight-day clock in another. A small bookshelf supported the family Bible and several ancient and much-worn volumes. Wooden benches were ranged round the walls; and clumsy chairs and tables, with various pails, buckets, luggies, troughs, and indescribable articles, completed the furniture of the picturesque and cosy apartment. The candle that lighted the whole was supported by a tall wooden candlestick, whose foot rested on the ground, and whose body, by a simple but clumsy contrivance, could be lengthened or shortened at pleasure, from about three to five feet.
But besides all this, there was a world of _materiel_ disposed on the black rafters above--old farm implements, broken furniture, an old musket, an old claymore, a broken spinning-wheel, etcetera, all of which were piled up and so mingled with the darkness of the vault above, that imagination might have deemed the spot a general rendezvous for the aged and the maimed of "still life."
Fast and furious was the dancing that night. Native animal spirits did it all. No artificial stimulants were there. "Tatties and mulk" were at the bottom of the whole affair. The encounter of that forenoon seemed to have had the effect of recalling the spirit of his youth to Mr Sudberry, and his effervescing joviality gave tone to all the rest.
"Now, Fred, you must take my place," said he, throwing himself in an exhausted condition on a "settle."
"But perhaps your partner may want a rest?" suggested Fred.
Lass Number 1 scorned the idea: so Fred began.
"Are your fingers not tired?" asked Mr Sudberry, wiping his bald forehead, which glistened as if it had been anointed with oil.
"Not yet," said McAllister quietly.
Not yet! If the worthy Highlander had played straight on all night and half the next day, he would have returned the same answer to the same question.
"You spend a jolly life of it here," said Mr Sudberry to Mrs McAllister.
"Ay, a pleasant life, no doot; but we're not _always_ fiddling and dancing."
"True, but the variety of herding the cattle on these splendid hills is charming."
"So it is," assented Mrs McAllister; "we've reason to be contented with our lot. Maybe ye would grow tired of it, however, if ye was always here. I'm told that the gentry whiles grow tired of their braw rooms, and take to plowterin' aboot the hills and burns for change. Sometimes they even dance wi' the servants in a Highland cottage!"
"Ha! you have me there," cried Mr Sudberry, laughing.
"Let me sit down, pa, pray do!" cried Lucy. Her father rose quickly, and Lucy dropped into his place quite exhausted.
"Come, father, relieve me!" cried Fred. "I'm done up, and my partner _won't_ give in."
To say truth, it seemed as if the said partner, (stout lass Number 1), never would give in at all. From the time that the Sudberrys entered she had not ceased to dance reel after reel, without a minute of breathing-time. Her countenance was like the sun in a fog; her limbs moved as deftly and untiringly, after having tired out father and son, as they did when she began the evening; and she now went on, with a quiet smile on her face, evidently resolved to show their English guests the nature of female Highland metal.
In the midst of all this the dogs suddenly became restive, and began to growl. Soon after, a knock came to the door, and the dogs rushed at it, barking violently. Mr McAllister went out, and found that a company of wandering beggars had arrived, and prayed to be allowed to sleep in the barn. Unfortunate it was for them that they came so soon after Mr Sudberry's unpleasant rencounter with one of their fraternity. The good man of the house, although naturally humane and hospitable to such poor wanderers, was on the present occasion embittered against them; so he ordered them off.
This incident brought the evening to an abrupt termination, as it was incumbent on the farmer to see the intruders safely off his premises. So the Sudberrys returned, in a state of great delight, excitement, and physical warmth, to their own parlour.
The only other fact worth recording in regard to this event is, that the Sudberrys were two hours late for breakfast next morning! _