Produced by John Bechard (JaBBechard@aol.com)
[Note from the transcriber: I have compiled a glossary with definitionsof most of the Scottish words found in this work and placed it at theend of this electronic text. This glossary does not belong to theoriginal work, but is designed to help with the conversations andreferences in Broad Scots found in this work. A further explanation ofthis list can be found towards the end of this document, preceding theglossary.]
c. 1900
The farm-yard was full of the light of a summer noontide. Nothing canbe so desolately dreary as full strong sunlight can be. Not a livingcreature was to be seen in all the square inclosure, though cow-housesand stables formed the greater part of it, and one end was occupied bya dwelling-house. Away through the gate at the other end, far off infenced fields, might be seen the dark forms of cattle; and on a road,at no great distance, a cart crawled along, drawn by one sleepy horse.An occasional weary low came from some imprisoned cow—or animal of thecow-kind; but not even a cat crossed the yard. The door of the barn wasopen, showing a polished floor, as empty, bright, and clean as that ofa ball-room. And through the opposite door shone the last year's ricksof corn, golden in the sun.
Now, although a farm-yard is not, either in Scotland or elsewhere, theliveliest of places in ordinary, and still less about noon in summer,yet there was a peculiar cause rendering this one, at this moment,exceptionally deserted and dreary. But there were, notwithstanding, agreat many more people about the place than was usual, only they wereall gathered together in the ben-end, or best room of the house—a roomof tolerable size, with a clean boarded floor, a mahogany table, blackwith age, and chairs of like material, whose wooden seats, and high,straight backs, were more suggestive of state than repose. Every one ofthese chairs was occupied by a silent man, whose gaze was either fixedon the floor, or lost in the voids of space. Each wore a black coat,and most of them were in black throughout. Their hard, thick, brownhands—hands evidently unused to idleness—grasped their knees, or,folded in each other, rested upon them. Some bottles and glasses, witha plate of biscuits, on a table in a corner, seemed to indicate thatthe meeting was not entirely for business purposes; and yet there wereno signs of any sort of enjoyment. Nor was there a woman to be seen inthe company.
Suddenly, at the open door, appeared a man whose shirt-sleeves showedvery white against his other clothing which, like that of the rest, wasof decent black. He addressed the assembly thus:
"Gin ony o' ye want to see the corp, noo's yer time."
To this offer no one responded; and, with a slight air of discomfiture,for he was a busy man, and liked bustle, the carpenter turned on hisheel, and re-ascended the narrow stairs to the upper room, where thecorpse lay, waiting for its final dismission and courted oblivion.
"I reckon they've a' seen him afore," he remarked, as he rejoined hiscompanion. "Puir fallow! He's unco (uncouthly) worn. There'll no bemuckle o' him to rise again."
"George, man, dinna jeest i' the face o' a corp," returned the other.
"Ye kenna whan yer ain turn may come."
"It's no disrespeck to the deid, Thamas. That ye ken weel eneuch. I wasonly pityin' the worn face o' him, leukin u