f
in action as well as in thought. He sometimes, but not often, spoke of
this, never lightly, though he laughed at some of his predicaments. He
could not forget the rude shock. Generally those familiar revelations
were at supper, on the Sabbath evening, when, his work over, he enjoyed
and lingered over his meal.

From his young and slight, almost girlish look, and his refined, quiet
manners, the boys of the school were inclined to annoy and bully him. He
saw this, and felt it was now or never,--nothing between. So he took his
line. The biggest boy, much older and stronger, was the rudest, and
infected the rest. The "_wee maister_" ordered him, in that peremptory
voice we all remember, to stand up and hold out his hand, being not at
all sure but the big fellow might knock him down on the word. To the
astonishment of the school, and to the big rebel's too, he obeyed and
was punished on the instant, and to the full; out went the hand, down
came the "_taws_" and bit like fire. From that moment he ruled them by
his eye, the _taws_ vanished.

There was an incident at this time of his life which I should perhaps
not tell, and yet I don't know why I shouldn't, it so perfectly
illustrates his character in many ways. He had come home during the
vacation of his school to Langrig, and was about to go back; he had been
renewing his intercourse with his old teacher and friend whom you
mention, from whom he used to say he learned to like Shakspeare, and who
seems to have been a man of genuine literary tastes. He went down to bid
him good-bye, and doubtless they got on their old book loves, and would
be spouting their pet pieces. The old dominie said, "John, my man, if
you are walking into Edinburgh, I'll convoy you a bit." "John" was too
happy, so next morning they set off, keeping up a constant fire of
quotation and eager talk. They got past Mid-Calder to near East, when my
father insisted on his friend returning, and also on going back a bit
with him; on looking at the old man, he thought he was tired, so on
reaching the well-known "Kippen's Inn," he stopped and insisted on
giving him some refreshment. Instead of ordering bread and cheese and a
bottle of ale, he, doubtless full of Shakspeare, and great upon sack and
canary, ordered _a bottle of wine_! Of this, you may be sure, the
dominie, as he most needed it, had the greater share, and doubtless it
warmed the cockles of his old heart. "John" making him finish the
bottle, and dri