he seventh
of Nehemiah, which the Dominie himself could never read through twice in
the same way, or without variations.

My father, to whom I was born, like Isaac to Abraham, in his old age, was
an elder in the Relief Kirk, respected by all for his canny and douce
behaviour, and, as I have observed before, a weaver to his trade. The
cot and the kail-yard were his own, and had been auld granfaither's; but
still he had to ply the shuttle from Monday to Saturday, to keep all
right and tight. The thrums were a perquisite of my own, which I
niffered with the gundy-wife for Gibraltar-rock, cut-throat, gib, or
bull's-eyes.

[Picture: Mansie and Nancy]

Having come into the world before my time, and being of a pale face and
delicate make, Nature never could have intended me for the naval or
military line, or for any robustious trade or profession whatsoever. No,
no, I never liked fighting in my life; peace was aye in my thoughts.
When there was any riot in the streets, I fled, and scougged myself at
the chimney-lug as quickly as I dowed; and, rather than double a nieve to
a school-fellow, I pocketed many shabby epithets, got my paiks, and took
the coucher's blow from laddies that could hardly reach up to my
waistband.

Just after I was put to my prenticeship, having made free choice of the
tailoring trade, I had a terrible stound of calf-love. Never shall I
forget it. I was growing up, long and lank as a willow-wand. Brawns to
my legs there were none, as my trowsers of other years too visibly
effected to show. The long yellow hair hung down like a flax-wig, the
length of my lantern jaws, which looked, notwithstanding my yapness and
stiff appetite, as if eating and they had broken up acquaintanceship. My
blue jacket seemed in the sleeves to have picked a quarrel with the
wrists, and had retreated to a tait below the elbows. The
haunch-buttons, on the contrary, appeared to have taken a strong liking
to the shoulders, a little below which they showed their tarnished
brightness. At the middle of the back the tails terminated, leaving the
well-worn rear of my corduroys, like a full moon seen through a dark
haze. Oh! but I must have been a bonny lad.

My first flame was the minister's lassie, Jess, a buxom and forward
quean, two or three years older than myself. I used to sit looking at
her in the kirk, and felt a droll confusion when our eyes met. It dirled
through my heart like a dart, and