XV.
SANDY MAKES A SPEECH.
There's been great gaitherin's in oor washin'-hoose this whileback--"Nochties-an'-Broziana," Bandy Wobster ca'd the meetin's toSandy. The ither Wedensday i' the forenicht--the shop was shut i' theefternune, of coorse; I'm a great believer i' the half-holiday, yousee. I think it's a capital idea. It gi'es a body a kind o' a breathor twa i' the middle o' the week, an' it pits naebody aboot. The fowkjuist come for their things afore you shut. It disna mak' a hair o'difference. If you didna open ava, they wud juist come the nicht afore.
Weel, but, as I was sayin', the ither Wedensday nicht I flang myshallie ower my heid, an' took a stap oot at the back door i' thegloamin'. It was a fine nicht, an' I sat doon on the simmer-seat atthe gavel o' the washin'-hoose, an' heard the argey-bargeyin' gaen oninside. I stuid up an' lookit in at the bolie winda, juist abune whaurthe skeels sit, an' here was Sandy an' his cronies a' busy crackin' an'smokin', an enjoyin' themselves i' the middle o' a great steer o' reekan' noise.
Juist as I lookit in, Bandy Wobster said something to Dauvid Kenawee,an' Dauvid raise, an' takin' his pipe oot o' his moo, says, "Order! Ipirpose Mester Wobster to the chair."
"Hear, hear," said a' the rest; an' wi' that Bandy got up on theboiler-heid on his belly, an' turnin' roond, sat wi' the legs o' himhingin' ower the front o' the boiler, juist like a laddie sittin' onthe dyke at the Common. Watty Finlay, the weaver, shuved anower a tumebutter kit for Bandy to set his feet on, an' then a'body sat quiet,juist like's something was genna happen.
Bandy took a bit tarry string, or tabaka or something, ooten his breekspooch, an', nippin' aff a quarter o' a yaird o't, he into his moo wi't.Syne he swallowed a spittal, an' said--"Freends an' fella ratepeyers."Bandy never pey'd rates in's life. He bides in a twa-pound garret i'the Wyndies, an' hardly ever peys rent, lat aleen rates. "Freends an'fella ratepeyers," says he.
Bandy was stan'in' up on the boddom o' the butter kit gin this time,an' a' the billies were harkenin' like onything.
"Freends an' fella ratepeyers," says Bandy again. "See gin that door'son the sneck, Sandy, an' dinna lat the can'le blaw oot."
Sandy raise an' put to the door, an' set the can'le alang nearer Bandya bit, an' then sat doon i' the sofa again.
"I hinna muckle to say," says Bandy. Bandy was brocht up in Aiberdeen,you ken, an' he has whiles a gey queer wey o' speakin'. "I hinna verymuckle to say, you ken," says he, "an' konsequently, I'll no' say verymuckle."
"Hear, hear," roared Watty Finlay.
"The Toon Cooncil elections is leemin' in the distance," continuedBandy, "an', as ceetizens o' the Breetish Empyre, we maun look oot forfit an' proper persons to reprisent the opinions o' the democracy inthe Hoose o'--in the Toon Hoose, an' on the Police Commission.Gentlemen----"
This garred a' the billies sit back in their seats, an' dicht theirmoos wi' their jeckit sleeves, an' host. Watty Finlay nearhand cowpitower the bucket he was sittin' on; but he got his balance again, an'sayin', "Ay, man," heich oot, he got a' richt sattled doon again.
"Gentlemen," says Bandy, "the time for action draws at hand. Oorwatter is no fit for ki drinking; an' there's fient a thing but watterin the weet dock. My heart bleeds when I go roond the shore an' seeall the ships sailin' oot o' the herbir, an' no' a livin' sowl comin'in. Gentlemen, that herbir's growin' a gijantic white elephant."
"An' so's the Watter Toor, an' the Lifeboat too," roared Dauvid Kenawee.
"The toon's foo o' white elephants, a' colours," said Moses Certricht."The Toon Cooncil's made it juist like a wild beast show."
"Hear, hear," cried the whole lot; an' Stumpie Mertin, gettin' a littleexcited, roared "Order," an' set them a' a-lauchin'.
"Gentlemen," said Bandy again, "it's as plen's a pikestaff that a' oormuniceepal affairs is clean gaen to the deevil a'thegither; an' I havemuch pleasure----"
"Hear, hear," said Watty Finlay, "he's the very man." There was a bitlauch at this, an' Watty added, "I mean Sandy, of coorse--no' thedeevil 'at Bandy was speakin' aboot."
"I was genna say," said Bandy, "when I was interrupit by the honourablegentleman----"
"O, gie's a rest," said Watty; an' Bandy had to begin again.
"I was genna say," he said, "that we maun get a hand o' a puckle men o'abeelity an' straucht-forritness, an' I have much pleasure in proposin'a vote of thanks to oor worthy freend, Mester Bowden, for comin' forritto abolish the Toon Cooncil o' every rissim o' imposeeshin, tilltaxation shall vanish into oblivion, an' be a thing o' the past.Mester Bowden is a man----"
"Hear, hear," says Watty again.
"Mester Bowden is a man that will never do onything----"
"Hear, hear," Watty stricks in again. He juist yatter-yattered awa'like a parrot a' the time.
"Onything below the belt," proceeded Bandy. "Give him your votes,gentlemen. I can recommend him. Sandy--I mean Mester Bowden, willstick to his post like Cassybeeanka, or whatever they ca'd the billiethat was brunt at the battle o' the Nile. He'll no' be like some o'them that, like Ralph the Rover,
Sailed away, An' scoored the sea for mony a day.
Gentlemen, let everywan here do his very best to get every elektor tovote for Sandy, Mester Bowden, the pop'lar candidate. Up wi' him tothe tap o' the poll!"
Bandy cam' doon wi' his tackety buit on the boddom o' the butter kit,an' in it gaed, an' him wi't, an' there he was, clappin' his hands, an'stanin' juist like's he'd on a wid crinoline. You never heard sic aroostin' an' roarin' an' hear-hearin' an' hurrain'! I had to shut myeen for fear o' bein' knokit deaf a'thegither. Stumpie Mertin jumpitup as spruce as gin he had baith his legs, instead o' only ane, an'forgettin' whaur he was, he glowered a' roond the wa' an' says,"Whaur's the bell, lads?"
It was Sandy's turn noo; an' efter Dauvid Kenawee, auld Geordie Steel,an' Moses Certricht had gotten the chairman pu'd oot o' the butter kit,an' on to the boiler-heid again, Sandy raise ooten his seat wi' a lookon his face like a nicht watchman. They a' swang their airms roondtheir heids, an' hurraed like onything, an' Sandy took lang breaths,an' lookit roond him as gin he was feard some o' them wud tak' him apeelik i' the lug.
When they quieted doon, Sandy gae a host, an' Watty Finlay said, "Hear,hear."
"Fella elektors," said Sandy, "let me thank you for your cordialreception."
Sandy had haen that ready aforehand, for he said her aff juist like"Man's Chief End." Syne he lifted his fit an' put it on the edge o'the sofa. He rested his elba on his knee, an' his chin on his hand,an' lookit quite at hame, like's he'd been accustomed addressin'meetin's a' his born days.
"I think oor worthy chairman spoke ower high aboot my abeelity," saidSandy; "but as far as lies in my pooer, I will never budge from mypost, but stand firm." At this point, Sandy's fit slippit aff the edgeo' the sofa, an' he cam' stoit doon an' gae Moses Certricht a daud i'the lug wi' the croon o' his heid, that sent Moses' heid rap up again'Dauvid Kenawee's.
"What i' the world are ye heavin' aboot that heid o' yours like thatfor?" said Dauvid, glowerin' like a wild cat at Moses: an' Bandy kickithis heels on the front o' the boiler, an' roared, "Order, gentlemen.Respeck the chair!"
I was juist away to cry--"Ye micht respeck my boiler, raither, an' no'kick holes i' the plester wi' thae muckle clunkers o' heels o' yours";but I keepit it in.
Sandy got himsel' steadied up again, an' pulled doon his weyscot, synegae his moo a dicht, an' buttoned his coat. I cud see fine that he wastryin' to keep up the English; but it wasna good enough. "I am no' aman o' learnin'," said Sandy. "I'm a wirkin' man, an' if I tak' up myheid wi' publik affairs, it's 'cause I've naething else ado, and it'llkeep me oot o' langer. As oor respeckit chairman says, I'm no' likeRalph the Rover, sailin' awa' an' scoorin' the sea for mony a day.That looks like a pure weyst o' soap--juist like what goes on i' theToon Cooncil daily-day. You may lauch, freends, but it's ower true;an' wha is't peys for't?"
"It's his! It's his, lads!" roared a' the billies i' the washin'-hoose.
"It is so,
" said Sandy. "Oor Toon Cooncil's juist like this Ralph theRover, gaen awa' scoorin' the sea for nae end--for the sea's no'needin' scoorin'--when he michta been at hame helpin' his wife to ca'the washin'-machine. It's usef'u' wark we want. Neen o' your BailieThingymabob's capers, wi' his donkey engines, eksettera. Echt thoosandpound for a noo kirkyaird! Did ye ever hear the like! What aboot thegrand view you get? A puckle o' thae Cooncillors crack as gin theywere genna pet bow-windas into a' the graves, to lat ye hae a grandview efter you was buried. Blethers o' nonsense! That's juist what Ica' scoorin' the sea like Ralph the Rover."
By faigs, lads, Sandy garred me winder gin this time. Ye never heardhoo he laid it into them, steekin' his nivs an' layin' aboot him wi'his airms.
"Echt thoosand pound!" he roars again. "That's seven shillin's theheid--man, woman, and bairn i' the toon o' Arbroath. What d'ye thinko' that? But that's no' a'. There's the toon's midden, too; that'sneedin' a look intil."
"Hear, hear," put in Watty as uswal; an' Bandy added, "It has muckleneed, as my nose can tell ye."
"What d'ye think o' a midden i' the very middle o' your toon?" Sandygaed on. "I paws for an answer," he said in a gravedigger's kind o' avoice. He crossed his legs ower ane anither, an' put ane o' his handsin ablo the tails o' his coat; an', gettin' akinda aff his balance, hegaed spung up again' Bandy Wobster. There was a crunch an' a splash,an' there was the chairman's bowd legs stickin' up oot o' the boiler,an' his face lookin' throo atween his taes, wi' a pair o' een like awild cat. He was up to the neck amon' the claes I had steepin' for themorn's washin'. The nesty footer that he was, I cudda dune I kennawhat till him.
"Ye great, big, clorty, tarry beast," I roared in at the winda; "comeoot amon' my claes this meenit, or I'll come in an' kin'le the fire,an' boil ye." Sandy bloo oot the can'le; an' by a' the how-d'ye-doesever was heard tell o', you niver heard the marrow o' yon. StumpieMertin roared "Order! Feyre!" at the pitch o' his voice; an' thechairman was yowlin', "For ony sake, gie's a grip o' some o' your handstill I get oot o' this draw-wall, or I'm a deid man."
I think he had gotten haud o' a shelf abune his heid, an' giein'himsel' a poo up; for there was a most terriple reeshel o' brokenbottles, an' beef tins, an' roarin' an' swearin', you never heard thelike.
"What i' the face o' the earth was ye doin' blawin' oot the can'le,Sandy?" said Dauvid Kenawee. "Hold on a meenit till I strik' a spunk,an' see wha's a' deid," he says; an' wi' that he strak' a match an'lichtit the can'le. Bandy had gotten himsel' akinda warsled oot o' theboiler, but Stumpie Mertin had tnakit his wid leg ower by the ankle,an' there he was hawpin' aboot, gaen bobbin' up an' doon like arabbit's tail, roarin' "Murder!"
"I think we'll better lave ower the rest o' the meetin' till anithernicht," said Moses Certricht, "an' we can look into the toon's middensome ither time."
"Juist tak' a look roond aboot ye," says I, in at the winda, "an' ye'llsee midden eneuch. Wha's genna clean up that mairter? I paws for aanswer," says I, in a voice as like Sandy's bural-society wey o'speakin' as I cud manish. "Speak aboot pettin' Sandy Bowden at the tapo' the poll. He'll be mair use at the end o' the bissam shaft, I'mthinkin'."
"C'wey, you lads," says Bandy. "I'm soakin' dreepin' throo an' throo,an' it's time I was oot o' this."
"Hear, hear," says Watty again; an' oot the entry they a' merchedwithoot a wird. If I'm no mista'en that'll be the end o' Sandy's ToonCooncillin'; an' time till't, I think. The man's no' wyse to thinkaboot ony sic thing. Perfeckly ridic'lous!
Sandy an' me were oot the Sands enjoyin' a bit walk juist yesterdayefternune, an' we were dreedfu' quiet. There didna appear to beonything to speak aboot ava. So I juist said in a kind o' jokey wey,"Ay, Sandy, an' hae ye seen the Ward Committee yet, laddie, aboot thatToon Cooncil bisness."
As shure's ocht, he grew reed i' the face; but he got richt efter awhilie, an' he says, "We're genna be like the Skule Brod efter this,Bawbie. We'll hae oor meetin's in private, an' juist lat you an' thepublik ken aboot bits o' things ya can mak' naething o'. D'ye see? Ifye pet your nose in aboot ony bolies harkenin', you'll mibby get thewecht o' a bissam shaft on the end o't. That'll learn ye to slooch an'harken to ither fowk's bisness."
"Keep me!" says I, I says. "Ye're terriple peppery the nicht, Sandy.Wha's been straikin' you against the hair, cratur? It wasna me thatshuved Bandy i' the boiler; but he'd been neen the waur o' a bit steep,for he trails aboot a clorty-like sicht. Him speak aboot the wattersupply! It's no' muckle he kens aboot the watter supply, or the soapsupply ether."
"Look here, Bawbie," says Sandy, "if you're genna rag me ony mair abootthat, it's as fac's ocht, I'll rin awa' an' join the mileeshie. I wudraither be blawn into minch wi' an' echty-ton gun than stand ony mairo' your gab."
"Tut, tut, Sandy," says I, "keep on your dickie, man. Ye're no'needin' to get into a pavey like that. Keep me, fowk wud think ye wasdiscussin' the auld kirk questin, the wey you're roarin'. Themileeshie wudna hae you at ony rate, an' we're no' juist dune wi' ye athame yet. But neist time you're makin' a speech, Sandy, dinna try an'stand on ae leg. That's what put ye aff the straucht. Ye see----"
I lookit roond, an' Sandy wasna there. When I turned, here's himfleein' in the Sands wi' his fingers in his lugs, like spring-heeledJeck. I tell ye, that man winna heed a single wird I say till him.