J. J. Bell

“ Here, Jess, did ye ever see a bonnier—"
"There'll never be anything doing at the shop unless the master's there," said Mrs. Houston, firmly. "It's not right, David."
"But Angus is there."
"Angus! and what can Angus do?"
"Weel, he's no' fit for muckle work, but—but he can tak' orders."
"And forget them."
"Puir buddy, he's gettin' auld," said David, gently.
"That's just all the more reason why you should be looking after things for yourself. Oh, Davie, Davie, I doubt you're too easy-going!" ”

“ Ye're daein' mair nor yer man to keep the hoose gaun."
"Oh no, Aunt Wallace; Davie works very hard."
"Ay—when he yinst gets stairtit," said the old lady, shutting her mouth with a snap. "He's jist like a' the ither men in Kinlochan—"
"He's not!"
"Haud yer tongue! I've leeved here fur ten year come Martinmas, an' I ken whit I'm talkin' aboot. Gi'e a Kinlochan man a job to dae, an' if he's his ain maister—like yer ain man—he'll footer aboot an' footer aboot till he has to dae't or loss it a' thegither. Ay; an' mony a job here's been lost a' thegither! ”

“ But she was Glasgow born and bred, and had never really got into sympathy with the Kinlochan natives and their ways. It was during the not infrequent visits to her aunt, however, that Jess had come to know David Houston, and although the old lady was fond of holding up the man's obvious faults to the girl, she had never actually attempted to interfere with the course of true love. "Efter a', he's a dacent lad," she would say to herself, "an' maybe Jess 'll male' a man o' him. There's naethin' peely-wally aboot him, onywey." ”

“ I grant ye, the job's dune quick an' weel when yinst it's stairtit—but mercy me! it's got to wait fur that! Did I ever tell ye aboot auld Maister McDonald's gate? Na, I didna. Weel, it's a parable fur the guidwife o' ony Kinlochan man—especially if he's a jiner—an' there's jist the yin jiner in Kinlochan the noo—mind, I'm sayin' the noo—fur I'm thinkin' there's room fur anither, if he's got ony spunk ava', in the future. ”

“ Mrs. Wallace smiled rather sourly. "I thocht he micht be no' vera weel, seein' that he needs aboot three 'oors to tak' his dinner in."
"Did you meet him on the road?"
"I seen him. But he never let on he seen me."
"Perhaps I—I kept him a little late to-day," said Jess.
"Ye micht ken better nor dae that, Jessie. He's lazy enough wi'oot you keepin' him. But his fayther, puir man, wis jist the same. It bates me to ken hoo his bit business hauds thegither! I never seen his mither—she wis deid afore I cam' to Kinlochan—I've heard she had a sair time wi' her lazy man. Ay! ”

“ I hope it's no' gaun to rain. Come, Jess."
But she refused quietly, and he went out alone to inspect the roses and pansies which would so soon increase or mar his reputation at the Ardmartin annual show.
David hardly slept a wink that night, for he was troubled about the weather. Before five o'clock he rose, dressed, and went out-of-doors. The west wind was blowing in soft puffs and threatened to increase in force, while the skies suggested a rainy day. ”

“ That's the warst o' a lassie takin' a man's job in an office, an' gaun' oot at nicht to classes. Mphm! But every lass nooadays is a young leddy, an' ower fine fur the things that wis guid enough fur her fayther an' mither. 'Deed, ye sud hae mairrit yin o' thon fancy chaps that dae naethin' but pu' doon their cuffs an' dance aboot the flure o' the big drapers in Glesca. Yin o' thon chaps wud shairly please ye better nor a plain jiner."
Jess, having heard all this before, laughed good-naturedly, and left the room to prepare tea. ”

“ He stood before her, six feet of health and strength, a goodly man to look at, proud, blithe, and loving.
He poured forth his story, picked her out of the chair and hugged her, put her back, and dropped three greasy pound notes into her lap.
"There, ma lass! Twa first prizes! An' every penny's yer ain! My! I wish ye had been there! Ye wud ha'e been the prood wumman." ”