"Ay, Robin (his friend’s name was Robin Roughead), ye’re a happy man—ye’re maister in your ain house, and ye’ve a wife that adores and obeys ye; but I’m nae better than naebody at my ain fireside. I’ll declare I’m waur; wife an’ bairns laugh at me—I’m treated like an outlan’ body an’ a fule. Though, without me, they micht gang and beg, there is nae mair respeck paid to me than if I were a pair o’ auld bauchels flung into a corner. Fifteen years syne I couldna believed it o’ Tibby though onybody had sworn it to me. I firmly believe that a gude wife is the greatest blessin’ that can be conferred upon a man upon this earth. I can imagine it by the treasure that my father had in my mither; for, though the best may hae words atween them occasionally, and I’m no saying that they hadna, yet they were just like passing showers to mak’ the kisses o’ the sun upon the earth mair sweet after them. Her whole study was to please him and to mak’ him comfortable. She was never happy but when he was happy; an’ he was just the same wi’ her. I’ve heard him say that she was worth untold gold. But, O Robin! if I think that a gude wife is the greatest blessin’ a man can enjoy, weel do I ken that a scoldin’, domineerin’ wife is his greatest curse. It’s a terrible thing to be snooled in your ain house—naebody can form an idea o’t but they wha experience it.

"Ye remember whan I first got acquainted wi’ Tibby, she was doing the bondage work at Riselaw. I first saw her coming out o’ Eccles kirk ae day, and I really thocht that I had never seen a better-faured or a more gallant-looking lass. Her cheeks were red and white like a half-ripe strawberry, or rather, I should say, like a cherry; and she seemed as modest and meek as a lamb. It wasna very lang until I drew up; and, though she didna gie me ony great encouragement at first, yet, in a week or twa, after the ice was fairly broken, she became remarkably ceevil, and gied me her oxter on a Sunday. We used to saunter about the loanings, no saying meikle, but unco happy; and I was aye restless whan I was out o’ her sight. Ye may guess that the shoemaker was nae loser by it during the six months that I ran four times a-week, wet or dry, between Birgham and Riselaw. But the term-time was drawing nigh, and I put the important question, and pressed her to name the day. She hung her head, and she seemed no to ken weel what to say; for she was sae mim and sae gentle then, that ye wad hae said ‘butter wadna melt in her mouth.’ And when I pressed her mair urgently—

‘I’ll just leave it to yersel, Peter,’ says she.

"I thocht my heart wad louped out at my mouth. I believe there never was a man sae beside himsel’ wi’ joy in this warld afore. I fairly danced again, and cut as ninny antics as a merry-Andrew. ‘O Tibby,’ says I.

"‘I hope no, Peter,’ said she; ‘I wad rather hae ye to live than dee for me.’

"I thocht she was as sensible as she was bonny, and better natured than baith.

"Weel, I got the house set up, the wedding-day cam, and everything passed owre as agreeably as onybody could desire. I thocht Tibby turnin’ bonnier and bonnier. For the first five or six days after the weddin’, everything was ‘hinny,’ and ‘my love,’ and ‘Tibby, dear,’ or ‘Peter, dear.’ But matters dinna stand lang at this. It was on a Saturday nicht, I mind, just afore I was gaun to drap work, that three or four acquaintances cam into the shop to wush me joy, and they insisted I should pay off for the weddin’. Ye ken I never was behint hand; and I agreed that I wad just fling on my coat and step up wi’ them to Orange Lane. So I gaed into the house and took down my market coat, which was hingin’ behint the bed; and after that I gaed to the kist to tak out a shilling or twa; for, up to that time, Tibby had not usurped the office of Chancellor o’ the Exchequer. I did it as cannily as I could; but she had suspected something, and heard the jinkin’ o’ the siller.

"‘What are ye doing, Patie?’ says she—‘whar are ye gaun?’

"I had never heard her voice hae sic a sound afore, save the first time I drew up to her, when it was rather sharp than agreeable.

"‘Ou, my dear,’ says I, ‘I’m just gaun up to Orange Lane a wee while.’

"‘To Orange Lane!’ says she—‘what in the name o’ fortune’s gaun to take ye there?’

"‘O hinny,’ says I, ‘it’s just a neeber lad or twa that’s drapped in to wush us joy, and, ye ken, we canna but be neebor-like.’

"‘Ay! the sorrow joy them!’ says she, ‘and neebor too!—an’ how meikle will that cost ye?’

"‘Hoot, Tibby,’ says I, for I was quite astonished at her, ‘ye no understand things, woman.’

"‘No understand them!’ says she; I wish to guidness that ye wad understand them though! If that’s the way ye intend to mak the siller flee, it’s time there were somebody to tak care o’t.’

"I had put the silver in my pocket, and I was gaun to the door mair surprised than I can weel express, when she cried to me—

"Mind what ye spend, and see that ye dinna stop.’

"‘Ye need be under nae apprehensions o’ that, hinny,’ said I, wishing to pacify her.

‘Nursing her wrath to keep it warm,’

it was her that nicht. I drew in a chair, and, though I was half-feared to speak—

"’What’s the matter, my pet?’ says I—‘what’s happened ye?’

"But she sat looking into the fire, and never let on she heard me. ‘E’ens ye like, Meg Dorts,’ thought I, as Allan Ramsay says; but I durstna say it, for I saw that there was a storm brewing. At last, I ventured to say again—

"‘What ails ye, Tibby, dear?—are ye no weel?’

‘Weel!’ cried she—‘wha can be weel?’ Is this the way ye mean to carry on? What a time o’ nicht is this to keep a body to, waiting and fretting on o’ ye, their lane? Do you no think shame o’ yoursel’?’

"‘Hoot, woman,’ says I, ‘I’m surprised at ye; I’m sure ye hae naething to mak a wark about—it’s no late yet.’

‘I dinna ken what ye ca’ late,’ said she; ‘it wadna be late among yer cronies, nae doubt; but if it’s no late, it’s early, for I warrant its mornin’.’

‘Nonsense!’ says I.

"‘Dinna tell me its nonsense,’ said she, ‘for I’ll be spoken to in na sic way—I’ll let you ken that. But how meikle has it cost ye? Ye wad be treating them, nae doubt--and how meikle hae ye spent, if it be a fair question?’

"‘Toots, Tibby!’ said I, ‘whar’s the cause for a’ this? What great deal could it cost me?’

"‘But hair by hair makes the earle’s head bare,’ added she—‘mind ye that; and mind ye that ye’ve a house to keep aboon your head noo. But if ye canna do it, I maun do it for ye—sae gie me the key o’ that kist—gie me it instantly; and I’ll tak care how ye gang drinkin’ wi’ ony body and treatin’ them till mornin’ again.’

"For the sake o’ peace I gied her the key; for she was speakin’ sae loud that I thought a’ the neebors wad hear—and she had nae suner got it, than awa she gaed to the kist and counted every shilling. I had nae great abundance then mair than I’ve now; and—

"‘Is that a’ ye hae?’ said she; ‘an’ yet ye’ll think o’ gaun drinkin’ and treatin’ folk frae Saturday nicht till Sabbath mornin’! If this is the life ye intend to lead, I wush to guidness I had ne’er had onything to say to ye.’

"‘And if this is the life ye intend to lead me,’ thought I, ‘I wush the same thing.’

"But that was but the beginnin’ o’ my slavery. From that hour to this she has continued on from bad to worse. No man living can form an idea o’ what I’ve suffered but mysel. In a mornin’, or rather, I may say, in a forenoon, for it was aye nine or ten o’clock afore she got up, she sat doun to her tea and white scones and butter, while I had to be content wi’ a scrimpit bicker o’ brose and sour milk for kitchen. Nor was this the warst o’t; for, when I cam in frae my wark for my breakfast, mornin’ after mornin’, the fire was black out; and there had I, before I could get a bite to put in my mouth, to bend doun upon my knees and blaw it, and blaw it, till I was half-blind wi’ ashes—for we hadna a pair o’ bellowses; and there wad she lie grumblin’ a’ the time, ca’in me useless this, and useless that; and I just had to put up wi’ it. But, after our first bairn was born, she grew far worse, and I becam’ mair and mair miserable every day. If I had been sleeping through the nicht, and the bairn had begun a kickin’, or whingin’— then she was at the scoldin’, and I was sure to be started out o’ my sleep wi’ a great drive atween the shouthers, and her crying—

"‘Get up, ye lazy body, ye—get up, and see what’s the maiter wi’ this bairn.’

"An’ this was the trade half-a-dizen o’ times in a nicht.

"At last, there was ae day, when a’ that I had dune was simply saying a word about the denner no bein’ ready, and afore ever I kenned whar I was, a cracky-stool that she had bought for the bairn cam fleein’ across the room, and gied me a din on the elbow, that made me think my arm was broken. Ye may guess what a stroke it was, when I tell ye I couldna lift my hand to my head for a week to come. Noo, the like o’ that, ye ken, was what mortal man couldna stand.

"‘Tibby,’ said I, and I looked very desperate and determined, ‘what do you mean by this conduct? By a’ that’s gracious, I’ll no put up wi’ it ony langer!’

"‘Ye’ll no put up wi’ it, ye cratur!’ said she; ‘if ye gie me ony mair o’ yer provocation, I’ll pu’ yer lugs for ye—wull ye put up wi’ that?’

"It was terrible for a man to hear his am wife ca’ him a cratur/—just as if I had been a monkey or a laupdoug!

"‘O ye disdainfu’ limmer,’ thought I; ‘but if I could humble your proud spirit, I wad do it!’ Weel, there was a grand new ballant hawkin’ about the country at the time—it was ca’d Watty and Meg—ye have nae doubt scen’t. Meg was just such a terrible termagant as my Tibby; and I remembered the perfect reformation that was wrought upon her by Watty’s bidding her fareweel, and threatenin’ to list. So it just struck me that I wad tak a leaf out o’ the ballant. Therefore, keeping the same serious and determined look, for I was in no humour to seem otherwise—‘Tibby,’ says I, ‘there shall be nae mair o’ this. But I will gang and list this very day, and ye’ll see what will come owre ye then—ye’ll maybe repent o’ yer conduct whan it’s owre late.’

"‘List! ye totum ye!’ said she; ‘do ye say list?’ and she said this in a tone and wi’ a look o’ derision that gied through my very soul. ‘What squad will ye list into?— what regiment will tak ye? Do ye intend to list for a fifer laddie?’ And as she said this, she held up her oxter, as to tak me below’t.

"I thought I wad hae drapped doun wi’ indignation. I could hae strucken her, if I durst. Ye observe I am just five feet twa inches and an eighth, upon my stockin’-soles. That is rather below the army standard—and I maun say it’s a very foolish standard; for a man o’ my height stands a better chance to shoot anither than a giant that wad fire owre his head. But she was aware that I was below the mark, and my threat was of no avail; so I had just to slink awa into the shop, rubbin’ my elbow.

"But the cracky-stool was but the beginnin’ o’ her drivin’; there wasna a week after that but she let flee at me whatever cam in the way, whenever I, by accident, crossed her cankered humour. It’s a wonder that I’m in the land of the living; for I’ve had the skin peeled off my legs—my arms maistly broken—my head cut, and ither parts o’ my body a’ black and blue, times out o’ number. I thought her an angel when I was courtin’ her; but, O Robin! she has turned out—I’ll no say what—an adder!— a teeger!—a she fury!

"As for askin’ onybody into the house, it’s a thing I durstna do for the life that’s in my body. I never did it but ance, and that was whan an auld schulefellow, that had been several years in America, ca’ed at the shop to see me. After we had cracked a while—

"‘But I maun see the wife, Patie,’ says he.

"Whether he had heard about her behaviour or no, I canna tell; but, I assure ye, his request was onything but agreeable to me. However, I took him into the house, and I introduced him wi’ fear and tremblin’.

"‘Tibby, dear,’ said I—‘and I dinna think I had ca’ed her dear for ten years afore—‘here’s Mr. W—, an auld schulefellow o’ mine, that’s come a’ the way frae America, an’ ca’ed in to see ye.’

‘Ye’re aye meetin’ wi’ auld schulefellows, or some set or ither, to tak ye aff yer wark,’ muttered she, sulkily, but loud enough for him to hear.

"I was completely at a loss what to do or say next; but, pretending as though I hadna heard her, I said, as familiarly and kindly as I could, though my heart was in a terrible swither—‘Bring out the bottle, lass.’

"‘Bottle!’ quo’ she, ‘what bottle? what does the man mean?—has he pairted with the little sense that he ever had?’ But had ye seen her as she said this!—I’ve seen a cloud black when driven wi’ a hurricane, and I’ve seen it awfu’ when roarin’ in the agony o’ thunder; but never did I see onything that I was mair in fear o’ than my wife’s face at that moment. But, somehow or ither, I gathered courage to say—‘Hoots, woman, what’s the use o’ behavin’ that way? I’m sure ye ken weel aneugh it’s the speerit bottle.’

"‘The speerit bottle!’ cried she, wi’ a scream; ‘and when was there a speerit bottle within this door? Dinna show yoursel’ aff to your American freend for a greater man than ye are, Patie. I think, if wi’ a’ that ye bring in, I get meat and bits o’ duds for your bairns, I do very weel.’

"This piece o’ impudence completely knocked me stupid, for, wad ye believe it, Robin, though she had lang driven a’ my friends frae about the house, yet never did ony o’ her friends ca’—and that was maistly every Sunday, and every Coldstream market-day—but there was the bottle out frae the cupboard, which she aye kept under lock and key; and a dram, and a bit short-bread nae less, was aye and to this day handed round to every ane o’ them. They hae discovered that it’s worth while to make Patie the bicker-maker’s a half-way house. But, if I happen to be in when they ca’, though she pours out a fu’ glass a-piece for them, she takes aye guid care to stand in afore me when she comes to me, between them and me, so that they canna see what she is doing, or how meikle she pours out; and, I assure ye, it is seldom a thimble-fu’ that fa’s to my share, though she hands the bottle lang up in her hand—mony a time, no a weetin’; and, again and again have I shoved ny head past her side, and said—‘Your health, Mrs. So-and-so’—or, ‘Yours, Mr. Such-a-thing,’ wi’ no as meikle in my glass as wad droun a midge. Or, if I was sae placed that she durstna but, for shame, fill a glass within half-an-inch o’ the tap or sae, she wad gie me a look, or a wink, or mak a motion o’ some kind, which weel did I ken the meanin’ o’, and which was the same as saying—‘Drink it if ye daur!’ O Robin, man! its weel for ye that no kens what it is to be a footba’ at your ain fireside. I daresay, my freend burned at the bane for me; for he got up, and—

"‘I wish you good day, Mr. Crichton,’ said he; ‘I have business in Kelso to-night yet, and can’t stop.’

"I was perfectly overpowed wi’ shame; but it was a relief to me when he gaed awa—and I slipped out after him, and into the shop again.

"‘But Tibby’s isna the only persecution that I hae to put up ‘wi’; for we has five bairns, and she’s brought them a’ up to treat me as she does hersel’. If I offer to correct them, they cry out—‘I’ll tell my mither! ‘—and frae the auldest to the youngest o’ them, when they speak about me, it is he did this, or he did that—they for ever talk o’ me as him! him! I never got the name o’ faither frae ane o’ them—and it’s a’ her doings. Now, I just ask ye simply if ony faither would put up wi’ the like o’ that! But I maun put up wi’t. If I were offering to lay hands upon them for’t, I am sure and persuaded she wad raise a’ Birgham about me—my life wadna be safe where she is—but, indeed, I needna say that, for it never is.

"But there is ae thing that grieves me beyond a’ that I hae mentioned to ye. Ye ken my mither, puir auld body, is a widow now. She is in the seventy-sixth year o’ her age, and very frail. She has naebody to look after her but me—naebody that has a natural right to do it; for I never had ony brothers, as ye ken; and, as for my twa sisters, I daresay they just hae a sair aneugh fecht wi’ their ain families, and as they are at a distance, I dinna ken how they are situated wi’ their guidmen—though I maun say for them, they sand her a stane o’ oatmeal, an ounce o’ tobaooo, or a pickle tea and sugar now and then, which is very likely as often as they hae it in their power; and that is a great deal mair than I’m allowed to do for her—me that has a right to protect and maintain her. A’ that she has to support her is fifteen pence a-week aff the parish o’ Mertoun. O Robin, man! Robin, man!—my heart rugs within me, when I talk to you about this. A’ that I has endured is naething to it! To see my puir auld mither in a state o’ starvation, and not to be allowed to gie her a six-pence! O Robin, man !—Robin, man!—is it no awfu’? When she was first left destitute, and a widow, I tried to break the matter to Tibby, and to reason wi’ her.

"‘O Tibby, woman!’ said I, ‘I’m very distressed. Here’s my faither laid in the grave, and I dinna see to come o’ my mither, puir body—she is auld, and she is frail—she has naebody to look after or provide for her but me.’

"‘You!’ cried Tibby—‘you! I wush ye wad mind what ye are talkin’ about! Ye have as many dougs, I can tell ye, as ye hae banes to pike! Let your mither do as ither widows has done before her—let the parish look after her.’

"‘O Tibby, woman!’ said I; ‘but if ye’ll only consider— the parish money is very sma’, and, puir body, it will mak her heart sair to receive a penny o’t; for she weel kens that my faither would rather hae deed in a ditch than been behauden to either a parish or an individual for a sixpence.’

"‘An’ meikle they hae made by their pride,’ said Tibby. ‘I wush ye wad haud your tongue.’

"‘Ay, but Tibby,’ says I, for I was nettled mair than I durst show it, ‘but she has been a guid mother to me, and ye ken yersel’ that she’s no been an guid-mother to ye. She never stood in the way o’ you and me comin’ thegither, though I was paying six shillings a-week into the house.’

"‘And what am I obliged to her for that?’ interrupted my Jezebel.

"’I dinna ken, Tibby,’ says I, ‘but its a hard thing for a son to see a mother in want when he can assist her. Now, it isna meikle she takes—she never was used wi’ dainties; and, if I may just tak her hame, little will serve her, and her meat will ne’er be missed.

"‘Ye born idiot!’ cried Tibby. ‘I aye thought ye a fule —but ye are warse than a fule! Bring your mither here. An auld, cross-grained, faut-finding wife, that I ne’er could hae patience to endure for ten minutes in my days! Bring her here, say ye! No! while I live in this house, I’ll let ye ken that I’ll be mistress.

"‘Ay, and maister too,’ thought I. I found it was o’ nae use to argue wi’ her. There was nae possibility of getting my mither into the house; and as to assisting her wi’ a shillin’ or twa at a time by chance, or paying her house-rent, or sending her a load o’ coals, it was perfectly out o’ the question, and beyond my power. Frae the night that I went to Orange Lane to this moment, I hae never had a sixpence under my thumb that I could ca’ my ain. Indeed, I never hae money in my hands, unless it be on a day like this, when I hae to gang to a fair, or the like o’ that; and even then, before I start, her leddyship sees every bowie, bicker, and piggin, that gangs into the cart—she kens the price o’ them as weel as I do; and if I shouldna bring hame either money or goods according to her valuation, I actually believe she wad murder me. There is nae cheatin’ her. It is by mere chance that having had a gude market, I’ve outreached her the day by a shillin’ or twa; and ane o’ them I’ll spend wi’ you, Robin, and the rest shall gang to my mither. O man! ye may bless your stars that you dinna ken what it is to hae a termagant wife.

"I’m sorry for ye, Patie," said Robin Roughead, "but really I think, in a great measure, ye hae yoursel’ to blame for it a’!"

"Me!" said Patie—"what do you mean, Robin?"

"Why, Patie," said Robin, "I ken that its said that every ane can rule a bad wife but he that has her—and I believe it is true. I am quite convinced that naebody kens sae weel where the shoe pinches as they that hae it on, though I am quite satisfied that, had my case been yours, I wad hae brought her to her senses long afore now, though I had

‘Dauded her lugs wi’ Rab Roryson’s bannet,’

or glen her a hoopin’ like your friend the cooper o’ Coldingham."

"Save us, man!" said Patie, who loved a joke, even though at second hand, and at his own expense; "but ye see the cooper’s case is not in point, though I am in the same line; for, as I hae observed, I am only five feet twa inches and an eight in height--my wife is not the weaker vessel— that I ken to my sorrow."

"Weel, Patie," said Robin, "I wadna hae ye to lift your hand—I was but jokin’ upon that score, it wadna be manly—but there is ae thing that ye can do, and I am sure it wad hae an excellent effect."

"Dearsake! what is that?" cried Patie.

"For a’ that has happened ye," said Robin, "ye hae just yoursel’ to blame, for giein’ up the key and the siller to her management that night ye gaed to Orange Lane. That is the short and the lang o’ a’ your troubles, Patie."

"Do ye think sae?" inquired the little bicker-maker.

"Yes, I think sae, Patie, and I sae it," said Robin; "and there is but ae remedy left."

"And what is that?" asked Patie, eagerly.

"Just this," said Robin—"stop the supplies."

"Stop the supplies!" returned Patie—"what do you mean, Robin?—I canna say that I fully comprehend ye."