[See Note H, Addenda.]

THE PLOUGHMAN’S “MYSIE.”

Ten miles along dusty roads in a hilly country, and on a hot summer’s day, was rather fatiguing, and I was glad to find the ploughman’s cottage, or rather hut, at last. It was placed in a picturesque little nook, at the foot of the Ochil mountains, and consisted simply of a “butt and a ben,” with a potatoe patch and kail-yard in front. The mistress was at home; her goodman, she said, was busy sowing turnips. But she kindly asked me in, and showed me into the best room, with its mahogany chest of drawers, old-fashioned eight-day clock, and bed with snowy counterpane in the corner. While I rested, the good woman produced her kebbuck of last year’s cheese, a basin of creamy milk, and some delicious oat-cakes,—a banquet for a hungry king,—and bade me eat, apologising that she had no whisky in the house.“And so,” she said, “you’ve come a’ this lang road too see our Mysie. Well,” pointing towards the bed, “yonder she is, sir.”

I was certainly a little disappointed. Mysie was a tortoise-shell and white, pretty well marked, but small and with an expression, as I thought, of bad temper about her little face, which just then seemed the reverse of pleasant; but this wore off when I patted and caressed her.

“Is there anything remarkable about her?” I asked.

“Weel, sir,” said her mistress, “she can catch mice like winking.”

“Cats generally do,” said I laughing; “anything else?”

“She’s a queer cratur. She has never slept a single night in the house since her e’en were opened, and——But you’re no eating, sir.”

I praised the cakes and kebbuck, and remained silent.

“The fact is, sir,” she said at last, “she saved my husband’s life last fa’ o’ the year. For George is a proud proud man, and would never accept meal or maut that he hadna worked or paid for.[1] But he had been lang lang ill; and ae day when I followed the doctor to the door, he told me that my poor man must die if he didna have his strength kept up. ‘Flesh and wine,’ said the doctor, ‘flesh and wine and plenty of both.’ Ah! little he kenned. So I put awa (pledged) my marriage gown and ring to get him wine; but we had naething in the house but milk and meal. Surely, sir, it was the Lord Himself that put it into that cat’s head; for, that same night, she brought in a fine young rabbit, and laid it on the verra bed;”—the good woman was weeping now—“and the next night the same, and every night the same, for a month, whiles a rabbit and whiles a bird, till George was up and going to his work as usual. But she never brought onything hame after that. She’s, maybe, no bonnie, sir; but, God bless her, she is unco good and wiser than many a human.”

By this time I could perceive no expression on Mysie’s face but that of unalterable fidelity and unchangeable love.

“You wouldn’t like to part with her, would you?”

“Part wi’ Mysie, sir? No for a’ the warld’s wealth.”

So I bade them good-bye, not now regretting my long walk to the Ochil mountains, and the ploughman’s faithful Mysie.