ly, 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 apoplect
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