SHORT STORY.

New Zealand Herald, Volume L, Issue 15262, 28 March 1913, Page 4

SHORT STORY.

TAMMIE'S WOOING.

{BY It 0. BAMSAY.]

[Copyright.].

Was» the Knowehead carrier, Tammie Carey, .lost his mother, .the whole wide parish, from the Laird,down, set about discussing the important question of " Hoo will Tammie manage?" and almost as one man— of a oertainty as one woman concluded that he needs must look out for a wife. And, as is the Knowehead way, the discussion changed into, "Wha shuld he tak ? • But though the answer to the first question was made known to Tammi© by the Laird himself, the carrier was to be hurried into matrimony by none I Ye see, Laird," he explained, "it!s no' juist like buying a horse or a coo, which a chap can sell again if cheated. But the place is sair needin' a woman-body,' with a glance round the dirty, untidy kitchen, " so I m to get a hoosekeeper for a week or twa or we see hoo things do." "Tuts, tuts, man; a wife would be far cheaper," said the Laird, with a sly smile, for Tammio's little weakness, greed for gold, was well-known in the parish. , " Maybe aye, and maybe no', quoth Tammie. " An' if we shuldna greo, as I've already said, Laird, I can easy get quit o the housekeeper, but no' the wifol But am no sayin it. wad dae ony hairm '—he knew the Laird's weakness, gossiping—" to hint if a month or twa's trial proved her suitable, I raicht mairry her I Only wey, I've ma mither'a wedding-ring laid by m casp!" t " Tammie, you really'beat," remarked the Laird, as he lifted his riding-whip from the littered table. I'll send you Marcet Beattie, man, tho* she's miles ower guid for ye! She'll have the house like a new pin in a twinkling! 'Pon my word, it's enough to cause a plague, a house like a pig-stye in the very middle of the village I" with curling lip. " Tak's a lot to pushen puir folk, Laird," quoth Tammie, not at all upset. "Weel," thoughtfully, "I culd get waur than Marget, Dut she'll gang thro' an awfu' lot o' soap, an' I doot there's but little i' her stockin' fit!" • " You've enough for both man. I'll ride out to her now,'.and she'll bo in-byo before you're back from Fairhaven. And you'll pay her five shillings a week, all found 1" "Five shillings 1' groaned Tammie. "Eh, Laird, the .haur o't is mair than I can afford, and her meat forbye, but," hastily, as ( the Laird's lips tightened, " I'll stretch a point an' say three "Five shillings a week," calmly repeated the Laird, turning towards the door, and Tammie surrendered.

"Weel, Laird, ye maun aye hae't yer ain wey I Ye can tell her to bring in-bye ony provisions she may hae handy—" " Not so much as an ounce of tea said the Laird, firmly, . and Tammie groaned again and yielded the point So the Laird mounted his big, coal-black steed and rode. westwards, while Tammie got into his ramshackle spring-cart, gave old Meg the word, and rattled eastwards, " a gude hauf boor ahent ma timet" The housekeeper on trial for wife—chosen by the Laird— was never happier than when minding some other body's business, provided it did not clash with his ownwas likewise a thrifty Scot, but far from being a grippy one, and when the Laird got out to her little cottage (which she occupied rent free, as nurse, and, after the Laird, consultant-in-chief to his whole wide parish) and delivered his message in his usual blunt way, she shook her head and said: "Weel, weel, Laird, if it is your will I'll see what I can do, but I doot if Tammie and I can 'gree a week Ye ken what I wad- like to see?'.' with twinkling eyes. The Laird shook his head. "Tammie saddled with a wife who would scatter his money like chaff! And as I could never find it in my heart to waste gud siller, boo ever gaithered, it's no' me ye're to mairry him tae, Laird, so I gie ye fair warnin'. An''deed, I'm a hantle better as I am, wi' coont, an' little care, an' aye free to dae a gude turn to ony!" "That's the one thing against it," said the Laird. " What the parish will do when you're bound to any . man I know not I However, we needn't cross a bridge till we come to it t Just begin him as you would mean to end him, Marget lass, . and see that not a single penny for his house comes out of jour pocket. I.know you, my lady 1" " Weel, weel, Laird," sighed Marget, and closed the cupboard door which she had opened to look over her scanty store for any little dainty she might take with her. "rll try a week o't, but I'll no promise mair!" ~ . Before the end of the - week the whole house had been turned upside down and inside out, blankets washed, linen mended, socks -darned, even old Meg's harness patched, but though the wear and tear of Marget cost Tammie never a pang the "soap an* pooder, an' ammonia, an', losh keep's, disinfectants as you never saw the like," had cost, in his estimation, such an enormous sum that be was cut to the very quick. "She's a gey prood bit bodr. he finally, concluded, "an' I wadna nane winder if I should quarrel wi' her that she would up an' awa', an' if she left withoot due notice she can claim nae pey. An* she'll be no* that ill. She's gotten her week's meat, an' saved wearin oot her sin furniture an' bedding!". And if . Marget—being but a womanlooked for a word of praise that night she looked in vain. Instead, the delicious scones which she had made for his tea were the cause of a lengthy diatribe, because, forsooth! she had put in a couple of eggs by way of a special treat, seeing the hens were "layin' sae weel." "An' eggs auchteen pence the dizzen in Fairhaven market," was the 'owercome o' bis sang. "I'm thinking, my leudy, if that's the kind o' care ye're to tak' o my wey, you an' me 'ill no' agree lang! I dinna suppose ma mithcr ever puit an egg in a scone a' her life."

"I dinna suppose she did," said Marget, " nor ate mony o' them aither, if a' stories are true! If ye glumphed and glowered owvr ilka bite she ate as ye've dune wi' me a' the week, I dinna nane winder she was glaid to dee!"

"Anitber thing whan we're at it," said Tammie, " I see nae need for a cloth on the table ilka day, wearing it oot, an' makin' needless wark."

"Ye can settle that wi' yer new bookkeeper," said Marget, calmly. " I'm leavin* as suno as I wash the dishes an* sweep up the flure!" •

"A. week's notice," said,Tammie, "or else nae pay!" " I culdna stand anither week o't tho' my livin' depended on't," . retorted Marget. An hour later she was back in her "ain wee hooae," tired, but happy, a returned exile - "Ainoe I got the place cleaned, Laird, and had five minutes to think, I saw I couldna stand it," she told the Laird, when he duly turned up. " Dinna blame Tammie. The critter canna help it! Better send him auld Tibbie Broon."

"Humph! She's too old, Marget, for a wife, and I'm thinking 111 never get a week's peace till; he's safely married. What about Widow Green?"

"She'll no' gang I" But Widow Green wasn't averse to changing her name yet again, and ere the day . was done she was settled in Tammie's beautifully'deaned house, having agreed—unknown to the Laird— give him a fortnight's trial "for her meat.' And by dint of drawing on her own stores she kept house that fortnight on about half of what Marget had needed, but Tammie was no fool, and saw through her little game: therefore at the end of the fortnight informed her that she wouldn't suit. And so for several weeks the game went merrily on, till practically every Knowchead maidenly lady of uncertain age, every widow not averse to a second, or even third, essay at matrimony had had a trial of Tammie and Tammie had had a free trial of her! But, alas and alack! not one of-them was ■" juist exactly the thing." The smartest and cleverest didn't come within a hundred miles of Marget. The Laird was taken into confidence, of course, and again the ooal black steed and his rider appeared at Marget's gate. "If he wants me, Laird,'' quoth Marget, " he can come and seek me!" and that was her final word.

"For one who was so well content with her lot she waited with strange anxiety for Tammie's next move, the truth being that since their school days she had had a secret fondness for him, ana even yet, within a few months of '40, found her heart beating rapidly when Tammie's cart stopped, towards gloaming, at her gate. "Marget, I canna dae withoot ye, 'umman," was his straightforward greeting. " A week wasna a fair trial. What wad ye say till a month?"

' "I was maybe ower hasty," she acknowledged. "I've my kist packed a' ready, so I'll juist come in wi' ye." And with both anxious to please, the month went by in the smoothest possible way, and when it was at an end Tammie brought a dirty pound-note from his worn pocketbook ana laid it on the table beside Marrat, saying: "It's a terrible lot o' money, Marget, but it's been weel earned."

"Thank ye kindly," she said, not lifting the note, however, so that it still lay under his eye in tempting fashion. " But ye can afford it, Tammie!" "I—l suppose so. But it's a terrible lot 9* 200907 ft the em The Laird was richt,

I think, whan he said a wife wad com® cheaper." ' '! Maybe aye, maybe no I" ■ " What wad ye say, Marget, to lats try an see? Wo micht dao waur J" V "We michtl" drily. " It's no' althegetner the siller, Manet! I'm feart o' lossin' ye again. We used to be fell fond o' itfaer r lassie 1 Ye— mind yon time I kissed ye. Wad ye bo terrible angry if I tried again?" ■ And her silence emboldened him to make the attempt, with no untoward result. "Will ye juist gang afore the Shirra the morn, Marget?" he presently asked. "It wad save a fuss an' needless expense. Or maun ye hae a mairraige o't?" anxiously. " Juist as ye think best, Tammie," said Marget, ooyly. . , ~ „ . So next day she accompanied him to Fairhaven, her Sunday hat and jacket tied in a white towel, on her lap, to be put on for the irregular ceremony known as "a mairraige afore the Shirra. ' And net altogether satisfied even yet, Tammie took the Sheriff into his confidence, inquiring: " Noo, if I am chcatod, or we dinna 'gree, what will I dae?" " Just come back to me, Tammie,' said the Sheriff, who dearly loved his joke, " and I'll get you quit of her all right." "But if it's the wife that's no'pleased?" anxiously. , . , , , " Oh, she must make the best of a bad bargain." And Tammie was fully satisfied. But, alas for the sequel J When Marget learned in due course how wealthy Tammie was, backed by the Laird, she calmly demanded " a lass to help wi' the hoose f that she might be free as of old to lend a hand wherever needed; insisted on household plenishings galore; a new horse and cart and harness, and altogether contrived to "make the siller flyt" , . . • , But not yet has Tammie revisited the Sheriff, seeking freedom. Instead, Market's first whisper, "Aweel, I'll juist awa' back to ma am woe hoose," immediately opens his purse-strings, but a tender < " Tammie, ma ain man !" is the magio key to his heart. . For Tammio— hen-pecked Tammie— equally to Knowehead's surprise and delight, is simply head over ears in love with his firm, determined wife, who in her turn adores as well as wisely rules him I -