IV.
A TALK ABOUT HEAVEN.
Sandy got a terrible dose o' the cauld lest week. I never hardly sawhim so bad. He was ootbye at the plooin' match lest Wedensday, an'he's hardly ever been ootower the door sin' syne. There was a nestyplook cam' oot juist abune his lug on Setarday, an' he cudna get on hislum hat; so he had to bide at hame a' Sabbath, an' he spent the feck o'the day i' the hoose readin' Tammas Boston's "Power-fold State" an' the"Pilgrim's Progress." Ye see, Sandy's a bit o' a theologian aye whenhe's onweel. If he's keepit i' the hoose wi' a host or a sair heid,Sandy juist tak's a dose o' medicin', an' starts to wirry awa' atBunyan or the Bible. He's a queer cratur that wey, for as halikit acharacter as he is.
But we had a kind o' a kirk o' oor ain on Sabbath i' the forenicht, forDauvid Kenawee cam' in, an' syne Bandy Wobster; an' they werena weelset doon when in cam' Jacob Teylor, the smith, an' Stumpie Mertin alangwi' them. Gairner Winton cam' in to speer what had come ower Sandy,for he hadna seen him at the kirk. Ye never saw sic a hoosefu'! Sandywas sittin' at the fireside wi' an auld greatcoat an' a hairy bonneton, an' a' the sax o' them fell to the crackin', ye never heard thelike. Ye wudda really thocht it was a meetin' o' the Presbitree--theywere a' speaking that throwither.
"An' what was the minister on the nicht, Gairner?" I says, says I,juist to stop them yabblin' aboot politicks, an' a' the like o' thatnonsense on Sabbath nicht.
"He had twa texts the nicht, Bawbie," said the Gairner. "He took thewirds in Second Kings, second an' elevent, an' in Luke, nint an'thirtieth, an' a fine discoorse he made o't, aboot Elijah bein' taen upto heaven in the fiery chariot, an' comin' again a hunder or a thoosand'ear efter, juist the same billie as he gaed awa'. He made oot thatwe'd meet a' oor deid freends in heaven again, an' juist ken them thesame as though they'd only been awa' frae hame for a cheenge for awhile."
"I dinna haud wi' yon view o' the thing ava," said Bandy Wobster. "Hewud hae's a' believe that fowk never grow a bit aulder in heaven. Thething appears to me to be ridic'lous. Elijah, a thoosand 'ear efter hewas taen up, cam' back withoot being a bit cheenged ether ae wey oranither; that was his idea o't."
"It's a gey ticklish subjeck," put in the Smith; "but, faigs, lads, Ihaud wi' the minister."
He's an awtu' nice, cowshis man the Smith. Ye wud sometimes think hewas meent for a minister, he says things that clever; an' a body ayefeels the better efter a crack wi' him.
"Ye see," he gaed on, "I wadna like it to be ony ither wey. Ye mind o'my little Elsie? Puir lassie, it's--lat me see; ay, it's twal' 'earcome Mertimas sin' she was taen awa'. Ay, man; an' she taen mair o' myheart wi' her in her bit coffinie than she left ahent her. A bonniebit lassie she was, Bawbie, as ye'll mind. She was juist seven pastwhen she was taen awa'; an' when I meet her again, I wud like her to bejuist the same bonnie bit lassokie that cam' in wi' her pawlie thatSetarday efternune an' tell'd me she had a sair heid--the henmist sairheid ever she was genna hae. Ye see, lads, if Elsie was growin' aulderin heaven, she wud be a woman nearhand twenty gin this time, an' shewudna be the same to me ava." An' the Smith lookit into the heart o'the fire like's he had tint something; an' I saw his een fill.
"That's the minister's wey o' lookin' at the thing too, I think," saidthe Gairner; "but I canna juist fathom't, I maun admit."
"There's something in what the Smith says," said Bandy; "but if there'sto be nae growin' ony aulder i' the next world, there'll be some fowk'ill hae a gey trauchle. There was Mysie Wilkie's bairn that de'eddoon there i' the Loan a fortnicht syne. It was a puir wammily-lookin'cratur, an' was only but aucht days auld when it took bruntkadis an'closed, juist in an 'oor or twa. Mysie, puir cratur, never kent. Shewas brainish a' the time, an' she follow'd her bairnie twa days efter.D'ye mean to tell me that Mysie 'ill be dwanged trailin' throo a'eternity wi' a bit bairnie aucht days auld, an' it never gettin' eventhe lenth o' bein' doakit, lat aleen growin' up to be able to tak' careo'ts sel? The thing's no rizzenable."
"But there wud be plenty bit lassies to gie the bairn a hurl in acoach," said the Tailor. "I dinna see hoo Mysie cudna get redd o' herbairn for an' oor noo an' than."
"But that wud juist be a dwang to the lassies, syne," answered Bandy.
"That's a thing I've often thocht aboot mysel'," says Sandy; "an' theonly wey I cud mak' it oot was that a'body in heaven 'ill be juist i'their prime. I've thocht to mysel' that a' the men folk wud be, say,aboot thirty-five 'ear auld, or atween that an' forty, an' the weeminmibby fower or five 'ear younger."
"An' wud they be a' ae size, d'ye think?" says Stumpie Mertin.Stumpie's a tailor, ye see, an' I suppose he'd been winderin' aboot hoohe wud manish wi' the measurin'.
"I canna say naething aboot the size," says Sandy; "it's the auldnesswe're taen up aboot i' the noo."
"Na, na, Sandy; your wey o't 'ill no' do ava," said the Smith."There'll be bairns an' auld fowk in heaven as weel's here. Auld fowk'ill no' get dune or dotal, like what they do i' this world,undootedly; but there'll be young fowk for them to guide an' advise.It wud be a puir wey o' doin', I'm thinkin', whaur naebody was wyzerthan his neeper, an' whaur ye wud never hae the chance o' doin' afreend a gude turn."
"It's past my comprehension," said the Gairner. "Maist fowk thinksit'll be a braw place, whaur there'll be nae trauchle or trouble wi'onything; but I doot we maun juist tak' the Bible for't, lads, an' haefaith that it'll be a' richt, whatever wey it comes aboot."
"There's ae thing, though, that I dinna haud wi' the minister in ava,"said the Smith. "I canna thole the idea o' great croods o' stoot menand weemin daidlin' aboot a' day doin' naething but singin' hymes.I've often thocht aboot that, an' raley, Sandy, I dinna think I cud behappy onywey if I didna hae my studio an' my hammer wi' me; for I'mjuist meeserable when I'm hingin' aboot idle. As for singin', I cannasing a single bum. It's no' like the thing ava for weel-faur'd fowk todo naething but trail aboot sing-singin' week-in week-oot. It may dofor litlans, an' precentir budies, like Mertin here; but able-bodiedfowk, wi' a' their faculties, cudna pet up wi't for a week, lat aleena' eternity."
Stumpie's an awfu' peppery budy, an' though the Smith leuch when hemade his joke at the tailor's precentin', Mertin got as raised as awasp, and he yattered back--"You'll maybe be better aff i' the itherplace, wi' your auld horse shune an' your smiddy reek, ye auldacowder----"
"Toot, toot, Mertin; dinna get angry," says the Smith. "It was but ajoke, man. I've nae doot that I wud hardly be i' the right place amon'angels an' sic like billies. But I tell ye what it is, I maun wirk formy livin' in heaven as weel's here, if ever I get there. I cud neverpet aff my time gaen aboot doin' naething an' that's whaur I differfrae the minister."
"But I think we're tell'd that there'll be mony mansions," says I; "an'nae doubt there'll be mony kinds o' occupation too. There'll be achance for's a' bein' happy in oor ain wey, I'm thinkin'. I only wisswe was sure we wud a' get there."
"Ah, Bawbie, lassie, that's whaur you're wyzer than the whole dollopo's," says the Smith. "We're takin' up oor heids aboot a place we maynever get till; an', I'm thinkin', it'll be better for's a' to stick inhere an' do what's fair an' richt. If we mak' shure o' that, we maylave a' the rest till a higher hand."
Mistress Kenawee landit in to see what had come ower Dauvid, an', dearme, when I lookit at the tnock, here, it was five meenits to ten. We'dbeen argeyin' that muckle aboot eternity, that we'd forgotten aboot thetime a'thegither.