RANALD BANNERMAN'-S BOYHOOD. 113

ground, and was besides often invited to take a share
in the amusements of the older boys, by whom he
was petted because of his cleverness and obliging dis-
position. Beyond school hours, he spent his time in
all manner of pranks. In the hot summer weather
he would bathe twenty times a day, and was as much
at home in the water as any dabchick. And that was
how I came to be more with him than was good for
me.

There was a small river not far from my father's
house, which at a certain point was dammed back by
a weir of large stones to turn part of it aside into a
mill-race. The mill stood a little way down, under a
steep bank. It was almost surrounded with trees,
willows by the water's edge, and birches and larches
up the bank. Above the dam was a fine spot for
bathing, for you could get any depth you liked from
two feet to five or six ; and here it was that most of
the boys of the village bathed, and I with them. I
cannot recall the memory of those summer days with-
out a gush of delight gurgling over my heart, just as
the water used to gurgle over the stones of the dam.
It was a quiet place, particularly on the side to which
my father's farm went down, where it was sheltered by
the same little wood which further on surrounded the
mill. The field which bordered the river was kept in
natural grass, thick and short and fine, for here on the
bank it grew well, although such grass was not at all
common in that part of the country : upon other parts



114 RANALD BANNERMAWS BOYHOOD.

of the same farm, the grass was sown every year along
with the corn. Oh the summer days, with the hot sun
drawing the odours from the feathery larches and the
white-stemmed birches, when, getting out of the water,
I would lie in the warm soft grass, where now and then
the tenderest little breeze would creep over my skin,
until the sun baking me more than was pleasant, I
would rouse myself with an effort, and running down
to the fringe of rushes that bordered the full-brimmed
river, plunge again headlong into the quiet brown
water, and dabble and swim till I was once more
weary ! For innocent animal delight, I know of no-
thing to match those days so warm, yet so pure-aired
so clean, so glad. I often think how God must
love his little children to have invented for them such
delights ! For. of course, if he did not love the chil-
dren and delight in their pleasure, he would not have
invented the two and brought them together. Yes,
my child, I know what you would say, " How many
there are who have no such pleasures!" I grant it
sorrowfully; but you must remember that God has not
done with them yet; and, besides, that there are more
pleasures in the world than you or I know anything
about And if we had it all pleasure, I know I should
not care so much about what is better, and I would
rather be made good than have any other pleasure in
the world ; and so would you, though perhaps you do
not know it yet.

One day, a good many of us were at the water to-



RANALD BANNERMAN'S BOYHOOD. 115

gather. I was somebody amongst them in my own
estimation because I bathed oft" my father's ground,
while they were all on a piece of bank on the other
side which was regarded as common to the village.
Suddenly upon the latter spot, when they were all un-
dressed, and some already in the water, appeared a
man who had lately rented the property of which that
was part, accompanied by a dog, with a flesh-coloured
nose and a villanous look a mongrel in which the
bull predominated. He ordered every one off his
premises. Invaded with terror, all, except a big boy
who trusted that the dog would be more frightened at
his naked figure than he was at the dog, plunged into
the river, and swam or waded from the inhospitable
shore. Once in the embrace of the stream some of
them thoughtlessly turned and mocked the enemy,
forgetting how much they were still in his power. In-
dignant at the tyrant, I stood up in the "limpid wave,"
and assured the aquatic company of a welcome to the
opposite bank. So far all was very well. But their
clothes ! They, alas ! were upon the bank they had
left!

The spirit of a host was upon me, for now I re-
garded them all as my guests.

" You come ashore when you like," I said ; " I will
see what can be done about your clothes."

I knew that just below the dam lay a little boat
built by the miller's sons. It was clumsy enough, but
in my eyes a marvel of engineering art. On the op-



lift RANALD BANNERMAN'S BOYHOOD.

posite side stood the big boy braving the low-bred cur
which barked and growled at him with its ugly head
stretched out like a serpent's; while his owner, who
was probably not so unkind as we thought him, stood
enjoying the fun of it all. Reckoning upon the big
boy's assistance, I scrambled out of the water, and
sped, like Achilles of the swift foot, for the boat I
jumped in and seized the oars, intending to row across,
and get the big boy to throw the clothes of the party
into the boat. But I had never handled an oar in my
life, and in the middle passage how it happened I
cannot tell I found myself floundering in the water.
Now, although you might expect that the water
being dammed back just here, it would be shallow
below the dam, it was just the opposite. Had the
bottom been hard, it would have been shallow; but as
the bottom was soft and muddy, the rush of the water
over the dam in the winter-floods had here made a
great hollow. There was besides another weir a very
little way below which again dammed the water back ;
so that the depth was greater here than in almost any
other part within the ken of the village boys. Indeed
there were horrors afloat concerning Us depth. I was
but a poor swimmer, for swimming is a natural gift
and is not equally distributed to all. I might have
done better, however, but for those stories of the awful
gulf beneath me. I was struggling and floundering,
half-blind, and quite deaf, with a sense of the water
constantly getting up and stopping me, whatever 1



RANALD BANNERMAN'S BOYHOOD. 117

wanted to do, when I felt myself laid hold of by the leg,
dragged under water, and a moment after landed safe
on the bank. Almost the same moment I heard a
plunge, and getting up, staggering and bewildered,
saw, as through the haze of a dream, a boy swimming
after the boat, which had gone down with the slow
current I saw him overtake it, scramble into it in
mid stream, and handle the oars as to the manner
born. When he had brought it back to the spot
where I stood, I knew that Peter Mason was my de-
liverer. Quite recovered by this time from my slight
attack of drowning, I got again into the boat, and
leaving the oars to Peter, was rowed across and landed-
There was no further difficulty. The man, alarmed, I
suppose, at the danger I had run, recalled his dog;
we bundled in the clothes ; Peter rowed them across ;
Rory, the big boy, took the water after the boat, and
I plunged in again above the dam. For the whole of
that summer and part of the following winter, Peter
was my hero, to the forgetting even of my friend Tur-
key. I took every opportunity of joining him in his
games, partly from gratitude, partly from admiration,
but more than either from the simple human attraction
of the boy. It was some time before he led me into
any real mischief, but it came at last.



1 18 RANALD BANNERMAN'S BOYHOOD.



CHAPTER XVI.

I GO DOWN HILL.

IT came in the following winter.
My father had now begun to teach me as well as
Tom, but I confess I did not then value the privilege.
I had got much too fond of the society of Peter
Mason, and all the time I could command I spent
with him. Always full of questionable frolic, the spirit
of mischief gathered in him as the dark nights drew
on. The sun, and the wind, and the green fields, and
the flowing waters of summer kept him within bounds;
but when the ice and the snow came, when the sky
was gray with one cloud, when the wind was full of
needle-points of frost and the ground was hard as a
stone, when the evenings were dark, and the sun at
noon shone low down and far away in the south, then
the demon of mischief awoke in the bosom of Peter
Mason, and, this winter, I am ashamed to say, drew
me also into the net.

Nothing very bad was the result before the incident
I am about to relate. There must have been, however,
a gradual declension towards it, although the pain



RANALD BANNERMAN'S BOYHOOD, iig

which followed upon this has almost obliterated the
recollection of preceding follies. Nobody does any-
thing bad all at once. Wickedness needs an appren-
ticeship as well as more difficult trades.

It was in January, not long after the shortest day,
the sun setting about half-past three o'clock. At three
school was over, and just as we were coming out, Peter
whispered to me, with one of his merriest twinkles in
his eyes :

"Come across after dark, Ranald, and we'll have
some fun."

I promised, and we arranged when and where to
meet. It was Friday, and I had no Latin to prepare
for Saturday, therefore my father did not want me. I
remember feeling very jolly as I went home to dinner,
and made the sun set ten times at least, by running
up and down the earthen wall which parted the fields
from the road; for as often as I ran up I saw him
again over the shoulder of the hill, behind which he
was going down. When I had had my dinner, I was
so impatient to join Peter Mason that I could not rest,
and from very idleness began to tease wee Davie. A
great deal of that nasty teasing, so common among
boys, comes of idleness. Poor Davie began to cry at
last, and I, getting more and more wicked, went on
teasing him, until at length he burst into a how) of
wrath and misery, whereupon the Kelpie, who and
some tenderness for him, burst into the room, and
boxed my ears soundly. I was in a fury of rage and



120 RANALD BANNERMAN'S BOYHOOD.

revenge, and had I been near anything I could have
caught up, something serious would have been the
result. In spite of my resistance, she pushed me out
of the room and locked the door. I would have
complained to my father, but I was perfectly aware
that, although she had no right to strike me, I had de-
served chastisement for my behaviour to my brother.
I was still boiling with anger when I set off for the
village to join Mason. I mention all this to show that
I was in a bad state of mind, and thus prepared for
the wickedness which followed. I repeat, a boy never
disgraces himself all at once. He does not tumble
from the top to the bottom of the cellar stair. He
goes down the steps himself till he comes to the
broken one, and then he goes to the bottom with a
rush. It will also serve to show that the enmity be-
tween Mrs. Mitchell and me had in nowise abated,
and that however excusable she might be in the case
just mentioned, she remained an evil element in the
household.

When I reached the village, I found very few people
about. The night was very cold, for there was a black
frost. There had been a thaw the day before which
had carried away the most of the snow, but in the
corners lay remnants of dirty heaps which had been
swept up there. I was waiting near one of these,
which happened to be at the spot where Peter had
arranged to meet me, when from a little shop near a
girl came out and walked quickly down the street I



RANALD BANNERMAN>S BOYHOOD. 121

yielded to the temptation arising in a mind which had
grown a darkness with slimy things crawling in it I
kicked a hole in the frozen crust of the heap, scraped
out a handful of dirty snow, kneaded it into a snowball,
and sent it after the girl. It struck her on the back
of the head. She gave a cry and ran away, with her
hand to her forehead. Brute that I was, I actually
laughed. I think I must have been nearer the devil
then than I have been since. At least I hope so. For
you see it was not with me as with worse-trained boys.
I knew quite well that I was doing wrong, and refused
to think about it. I felt bad inside. Peter might
have done the same thing without being half as wicked
as I was. He did not feel the wickedness of that kind
of thing as I did. He would have laughed over it
merrily. But the vile dregs of my wrath with the
Kelpie were fermenting in my bosom, and the horrid
pleasure I found in annoying an innocent girl because
the wicked Kelpie had made me angry, could never
have been expressed in a merry laugh like Mason's.
The fact is, I was more displeased with myself than
with anybody else, though I did not allow it, and would
not take the trouble to repent and do the right thing.
If I had even said to wee Davie that I was sorry, I do
not think I should have done the other wicked things
that followed ; for this was not all by any means.

In a little while Peter joined me. He laughed, of
course, when I told him how the girl had run like a
frighted hare, but that was poor fun in his eyes.

(371) I



122 RANALD BANNERMAWS BOYHOOD.

"Look here, Ranald," he said, holding out some
thing like a piece of wood.

"What is it, Peter?" I asked.

" It 's the stalk of a cabbage," he answered. " I Ve
scooped out the inside and filled it with tow. We '11
set fire to one end, and blow the smoke through the
keyhole."

"Whose keyhole, Peter?"

" An old witch's that I know of. She '11 be in such
a rage ! It '11 be fun to hear her cursing and swearing.
We 'd serve the same to every house in the row, but
that would be more than we could get off with. Come
along. Here 's a rope to tie her door with first"

I followed him, not without inward misgivings, which
I kept down as well as I could. I argued with my-
self, "/am not doing it; I am only going with Peter:
what business is that of anybody's so long as I don't
touch the thing myself?" Only a few minutes more,
and I was helping Peter to tie the rope to the latch-
handle of a poor little cottage, saying now to myself,
" This doesn't matter. This won't do her any harm.
This isn't smoke. And after all, smoke won't hurt the
nasty old thing. It '11 only make her angry. It may
do her cough good : I dare say she 's got a cough." I
knew all I was saying was false, and yet I acted on it
Was not that as wicked as wickedness could be ? One
moment more, and Peter was blowing through the
hollow cabbage-stalk in at the keyhole with all his
might Catching a breath of the stilling smoke him-




A TRICK PLAYED ON GRANNY GREGSON.



RANALD BANNERMAWS BOYHOOD. 123

self, however, he began to cough violently, and passed
the wicked instrument to me. I put my mouth to it,
and blew with all my might. I believe now that there
was some far more objectionable stuff mingled with
the tow. In a few moments we heard the old woman
begin to cough. Peter, who was peeping in at the
window, whispered

" She 's rising. Now we 11 catch it, Ranald ! "
Coughing as she came, I heard her with shuffling
steps approach the door, thinking to open it for air.
When she failed in opening it, and found besides where
the smoke was coming from, she broke into a torrent
of fierce and vengeful reproaches, mingled with epi-
thets by no means flattering. She did not curse and
swear as Peter had led me to expect, although her
language was certainly far enough from refined; but
therein I, being, in a great measure, the guilty cause,
was more to blame than she. I laughed because I
would not be unworthy of my companion, who was
genuinely amused; but I was, in reality, shocked at
the tempest I had raised. I stopped blowing, aghast at
what I had done ; but Peter caught the tube from my
hand and recommenced the assault with fresh vigour,
whispering through the keyhole, every now and then
between the blasts, provoking, irritating, even insulting
remarks on the old woman's personal appearance and
supposed ways of living. This threw her into pa-
roxysms of rage and of coughing, both increasing in
violence; and the war of words grew, she tugging at



124 RANALD BANNERMAN'S BOYHOOD.

the door as she screamed, he answering merrily, and
with pretended sympathy for her sufferings, until I lost
all remaining delicacy in the humour of the wicked
game, and laughed loud and heartily.

Of a sudden the scolding and coughing ceased. A
strange sound and again silence followed. Then came
a shrill, suppressed scream ; and we heard the voice
of a girl, crying :

" Grannie ! grannie ! What 's the matter with you ?
Can't you speak to me, grannie ? They Ve smothered
my grannie 1 "

Sobs and moans were all we heard now. Peter had
taken fright at last, and was busy undoing the rope.
Suddenly he flung the door wide and fled, leaving me
exposed to the full gaze of the girl. To my horror it
was Elsie Duff! She was just approaching the door,
her eyes streaming with tears, and her sweet face white
with agony. I stood unable to move or speak. She turned
away without a word, and began again to busy herself
with the old woman, who lay on the ground not two
yards from the door. I heard a heavy step approach-
ing. Guilt awoke fear and restored my powers of
motion. I fled at full speed, not to find Mason, but
to leave everything behind me.

When I reached the manse, it stood alone in the
starry blue night Somehow I could not help thinking
of the time when I came home after waking up in the
barn. That, too, was a time of misery, but, oh ! how
different from this 1 Then I had only been cruelly



RANALD BANNERMAN'S BOYHOOD. 125

treated myself; now I had actually committed cruelty.
Then I sought my father's bosom as the one refuge ;
now I dreaded the very sight of my father, for I could
not look him in the face. He was my father, but I was
not his son. A hurried glance at my late life revealed
that I had been behaving very badly, growing worse
and worse. I became more and more miserable as I
stood, but what to do I could not tell. The cold at
length drove me into the house. I generally sat with
my father in his study of a winter night now, but I
dared not go near it. I crept to the nursery, where I
found a bright fire burning, and Allister reading by the
blaze, while Davie lay in bed at the other side of the
room. I sat down and warmed myself, but the warmth
could not reach the lump of ice at my heart. I sat and
stared at the fire. Allister was too much occupied with
his book to take any heed of me. All at once I felt a
pair of little arms about my neck, and Davie was trying
to climb upon my knees. Instead of being comforted
however, I spoke very crossly, and sent him back to
his bed whimpering. You see I was only miserable ;
I was not repentant. I was eating the husks with the
swine, and did not relish them ; but I had not said,
" I will arise and go to my father."

How I got through the rest of that evening I hardly
know. I tried to read, but could not. I was rather
fond of arithmetic ; so I got my slate and tried to work
a sum ; but in a few moments I was sick of it. At
family prayers I never lifted my head to look at my



126 RANALD BANNERMAN'S BOYHOOD.

father, and when they were over, and I had said good
night to him, I felt that I was sneaking out of the
room. But I had some small sense of protection and
safety when once in bed beside little Davie, who was
sound asleep, and looked as innocent as little Samuel
when the voice of God was going to call him. I put
my arm round him, hugged him close to me, and began
to cry, and the crying brought me sleep.

It was a very long time now since I had dreamt my
old childish dream ; but this night it returned. The
old sunny-faced sun looked down upon me very
solemnly. There was no smile on his big mouth, no
twinkle about the corners of his little eyes. He looked
at Mrs. Moon as much as to say, " What is to be done?
The boy has been going the wrong way : must we dis-
own him ? " The moon neither shook her head nor
moved her lips, but turned as on a pivot, and stood
with her back to her husband, looking very miserable.
Not one of the star-children moved from its place
They shone sickly and small. In a little while they
faded out ; then the moon paled and paled until she
too vanished without ever turning her face to her hus-
band ; and last the sun himself began to change, only
instead of paling he drew in all his beams, and shrunk
smaller and smaller, until no bigger than a candle-
flame. Then I found that I was staring at a candle on
the table ; and that Tom was kneeling by the side ot
the other bed, saying his prayers.



RANALD BANNERMAN'S BOYHOOD. 127



CHAPTER XVIL

THE TROUBLE GROWS.

WHEN I woke in the morning, I tried to per-
suade myself that I had made a great deal
too much of the whole business ; that if not a dignified
thing to do, it was at worst but a boy's trick ; only I
would have no more to say to Peter Mason, who had
betrayed me at the last moment without even the
temptation of any benefit to himself. I went to school
as usual. It was the day for the Shorter Catechism.
None failed but Peter and me ; and we two were kept
in alone, and left in the schoolroom together. I seated
myself as far from him as I could. In half an hour he
had learned his task, while I had not mastered the half
of mine. Thereupon he proceeded, regardless of my
entreaties, to prevent me learning it. I begged, and
prayed, and appealed to his pity, but he would pull the
book away from me, gabble bits of ballads in my ear
as I was struggling with Effectual Calling, tip up the
form on which I was seated, and, in short, annoy me
in twenty different ways. At last I began to cry, for
Mason was a bigger and stronger boy than I, and I



128 RANALD BANNERMAWS BOYHOOD.

could not help myself against him. Lifting my head
after the first vexation was over, I thought I saw a
shadow pass from the window. Although I could not
positively say I saw it, I had a conviction it was
Turkey, and my heart began to turn again towards
him. Emboldened by the fancied proximity, I at-
tempted my lesson once more, but that moment Peter
was down upon me like a spider. At last, however,
growing suddenly weary of the sport, he desisted, and
said:

" Ran, you can stay if you like. I 've learned my
catechism, and I don't see why I should wait his
time."

As he spoke he drew a picklock from his pocket
his father was an ironmonger deliberately opened the
schoolroom door, slipped out, and locked it behind
him. Then he came to one of the windows, and began
making faces at me. But vengeance was nigher than
he knew. A deeper shadow darkened my page, and
when I looked up, there was Turkey towering over
Mason, with his hand on his collar, and his whip lifted.
The whip did not look formidable. Mason received
the threat as a joke, and laughed in Turkey's face.
Perceiving, however, that Turkey looked dangerous,
with a sudden wriggle, at which he was an adept, he
broke free, and, trusting to his tried speed of foot,
turned his head and made a grimace as he took to his
heels. Before, however, he could widen the space be-
tween them sufficiently, Turkey's whip came down



RANALD BANNERMAN'S BOYHOOD. 129

upon him. With a howl of pain Peter doubled himself
up, and Turkey fell upon him, and, heedless of his
yells and cries, pommelled him severely. Although
they were now at some distance, too great for the dis-
tinguishing of words, I could hear that Turkey mingled
admonition with punishment A little longer, and
Peter crept past the window, a miserable mass of col-
lapsed and unstrung impudence, his face bleared with
crying, and his knuckles dug into his eyes. And this
was the boy I had chosen for my leader ! He had
been false to me, I said to myself; and the noble
Turkey, seeing his behaviour through the window, had
watched to give him his deserts. My heart was full of
gratitude.

Once more Turkey drew near the window. What
was my dismay and indignation to hear him utter the
following words :

" If you weren't your father's son, Ranald, and my
own old friend, I would serve you just the same."

Wrath and pride arose in me at the idea of Turkey,
who used to call himself my horse, behaving to me
after this fashion ; and, my evil ways having half made
a sneak of me, I cried out :

"I'll tell my father, Turkey."

" I only wish you would, and then I should be no
tell-tale if he asked me why, and I told him all about
it You young blackguard ! You 're no gentleman !
To sneak about the streets and hit girls with snow-
balls ! I scorn you 1 "



130 RANALD BANNERMAWS BOYHOOD.

" You must have been watching, then, Turkey, and
you had no business to do that," I said, plunging at
any defence.

" I was not watching you. But if I had been, it
would have been just as right as watching Hawkie.