“Yes, indeed, my grandfather
wass once in jail,” said old Mrs. McTavish,
of the county of Glengarry, in Ontario, Canada; “but
that wass for debt, and he wass a ferry honest man
whateffer, and he would not broke his promise no,
not for all the money in Canada. If you will
listen to me, I will tell chust exactly the true story
about that debt, to show you what an honest man my
grandfather wass.
“One time Tougal Stewart, him
that wass the poy’s grandfather that keeps the
same store in Cornwall to this day, sold a plough to
my grandfather, and my grandfather said he would pay
half the plough in October, and the other half whateffer
time he felt able to pay the money. Yes, indeed,
that was the very promise my grandfather gave.
“So he was at Tougal Stewart’s
store on the first of October early in the morning
pefore the shutters wass taken off, and he paid half
chust exactly to keep his word. Then the crop
wass ferry pad next year, and the year after that
one of his horses wass killed py lightning, and the
next year his brother, that wass not rich and had a
big family, died, and do you think wass my grandfather
to let the family be disgraced without a good funeral?
No, indeed. So my grandfather paid for the funeral,
and there was at it plenty of meat and drink for eferypody,
as wass the right Hielan’ custom those days;
and after the funeral my grandfather did not feel
chust exactly able to pay the other half for the plough
that year either.
“So, then, Tougal Stewart met
my grandfather in Cornwall next day after the funeral,
and asked him if he had some money to spare.
“‘Wass you in need of
help, Mr. Stewart?’ says my grandfather, kindly.
‘For if it’s in any want you are, Tougal,’
says my grandfather, ’I will sell the coat off
my back, if there is no other way to lend you a loan;’
for that was always the way of my grandfather with
all his friends, and a bigger-hearted man there never
wass in all Glengarry, or in Stormont, or in Dundas,
moreofer.
“‘In want!’ says
Tougal ’in want, Mr. McTavish!’
says he, very high. ’Would you wish to
insult a gentleman, and him of the name of Stewart,
that’s the name of princes of the world?’
he said, so he did.
“Seeing Tougal had his temper
up, my grandfather spoke softly, being a quiet, peaceable
man, and in wonder what he had said to offend Tougal.
“‘Mr. Stewart,’
says my grandfather, ’it wass not in my mind
to anger you whatefer. Only I thought, from your
asking me if I had some money, that you might be looking
for a wee bit of a loan, as many a gentleman has to
do at times, and no shame to him at all,’ said
my grandfather.
“‘A loan?’ says
Tougal, sneering. ’A loan, is it? Where’s
your memory, Mr. McTavish? Are you not owing
me half the price of the plough you’ve had these
three years?’
“‘And wass you asking
me for money for the other half of the plough?’
says my grandfather, very astonished.
“‘Just that,’ says Tougal.
“‘Have you no shame or
honor in you?’ says my grandfather, firing up.
’How could I feel able to pay that now, and me
chust yesterday been giving my poor brother a funeral
fit for the McTavishes’ own grand-nephew, that
wass as good chentleman’s plood as any Stewart
in Glengarry. You saw the expense I wass at,
for there you wass, and I thank you for the politeness
of coming, Mr. Stewart,’ says my grandfather,
ending mild, for the anger would never stay in him
more than a minute, so kind was the nature he had.
“’If you can spend money
on a funeral like that, you can pay me for my plough,’
says Stewart; for with buying and selling he wass become
a poor creature, and the heart of a Hielan’man
wass half gone out of him, for all he wass so proud
of his name of monarchs and kings.
“My grandfather had a mind to
strike him down on the spot, so he often said; but
he thought of the time when he hit Hamish Cochrane
in anger, and he minded the penances the priest put
on him for breaking the silly man’s jaw with
that blow, so he smothered the heat that wass in him,
and turned away in scorn. With that Tougal Stewart
went to court, and sued my grandfather, puir mean
creature.
“You might think that Judge
Jones him that wass judge in Cornwall before
Judge Jarvis that’s dead would do
justice. But no, he made it the law that my grandfather
must pay at once, though Tougal Stewart could not
deny what the bargain wass.
“‘Your Honor,’ says
my grandfather, ’I said I’d pay when I
felt able. And do I feel able now? No, I
do not,’ says he. ’It’s a disgrace
to Tougal Stewart to ask me, and himself telling you
what the bargain was,’ said my grandfather.
But Judge Jones said that he must pay, for all that
he did not feel able.
“‘I will nefer pay one
copper till I feel able,’ says my grandfather;
‘but I’ll keep my Hielan’ promise
to my dying day, as I always done,’ says he.
“And with that the old judge
laughed, and said he would have to give judgment.
And so he did; and after that Tougal Stewart got out
an execution. But not the worth of a handful
of oatmeal could the bailiff lay hands on, because
my grandfather had chust exactly taken the precaution
to give a bill of sale on his gear to his neighbor,
Alexander Frazer, that could be trusted to do what
was right after the law play was over.
“The whole settlement had great
contempt for Tougal Stewart’s conduct; but he
was a headstrong body, and once he begun to do wrong
against my grandfather, he held on, for all that his
trade fell away; and finally he had my grandfather
arrested for debt, though you’ll understand,
sir, that he was owing Stewart nothing that he ought
to pay when he didn’t feel able.
“In those times prisoners for
debt was taken to jail in Cornwall, and if they had
friends to give bail that they would not go beyond
the posts that was around the sixteen acres nearest
the jail walls, the prisoners could go where they
liked on that ground. This was called ‘the
privilege of the limits.’ The limits, you’ll
understand, wass marked by cedar posts painted white
about the size of hitching-posts.
“The whole settlement was ready
to go bail for my grandfather if he wanted it, and
for the health of him he needed to be in the open air,
and so he gave Tuncan-Macdonnell of the Greenfields,
and AEneas Macdonald of the Sandfields, for his bail,
and he promised, on his Hielan’ word of honor,
not to go beyond the posts. With that he went
where he pleased, only taking care that he never put
even the toe of his foot beyond a post, for all that
some prisoners of the limits would chump ofer them
and back again, or maybe swing round them, holding
by their hands.
“Efery day the neighbors would
go into Cornwall to give my grandfather the good word,
and they would offer to pay Tougal Stewart for the
other half of the plough, only that vexed my grandfather,
for he was too proud to borrow, and, of course, every
day he felt less and less able to pay on account of
him having to hire a man to be doing the spring ploughing
and seeding and making the kale-yard.
“All this time, you’ll
mind, Tougal Stewart had to pay five shillings a week
for my grandfather’s keep, the law being so that
if the debtor swore he had not five pound’s
worth of property to his name, then the creditor had
to pay the five shillings, and, of course, my grandfather
had nothing to his name after he gave the bill of sale
to Alexander Frazer. A great diversion it was
to my grandfather to be reckoning up that if he lived
as long as his father, that was hale and strong at
ninety-six, Tougal would need to pay five or six hundred
pounds for him, and there was only two pound five
shillings to be paid on the plough.
“So it was like that all summer,
my grandfather keeping heartsome, with the neighbors
coming in so steady to bring him the news of the settlement.
There he would sit, just inside one of the posts, for
to pass his jokes, and tell what he wished the family
to be doing next. This way it might have kept
going on for forty years, only it came about that
my grandfather’s youngest child him
that was my father fell sick, and seemed
like to die.
“Well, when my grandfather heard
that bad news, he wass in a terrible way, to be sure,
for he would be longing to hold the child in his arms,
so that his heart was sore and like to break.
Eat he could not, sleep he could not: all night
he would be groaning, and all day he would be walking
around by the posts, wishing that he had not passed
his Hielan’ word of honor not to go beyond a
post; for he thought how he could have broken out
like a chentleman, and gone to see his sick child,
if he had stayed inside the jail wall. So it went
on three days and three nights pefore the wise thought
came into my grandfather’s head to show him
how he need not go beyond the posts to see his little
sick poy. With that he went straight to one of
the white cedar posts, and pulled it up out of the
hole, and started for home, taking great care to carry
it in his hands pefore him, so he would not be beyond
it one bit.
“My grandfather wass not half
a mile out of Cornwall, which was only a little place
in those days, when two of the turnkeys came after
him.
“‘Stop, Mr. McTavish,’ says the
turnkeys.
“‘What for would I stop?’ says my
grandfather.
“‘You have broke your bail,’ says
they.
“‘It’s a lie for
you,’ says my grandfather, for his temper flared
up for anybody to say he would broke his bail.
‘Am I beyond the post?’ says my grandfather.
“With that they run in on him,
only that he knocked the two of them over with the
post, and went on rejoicing, like an honest man should,
at keeping his word and overcoming them that would
slander his good name. The only thing pesides
thoughts of the child that troubled him was questioning
whether he had been strictly right in turning round
for to use the post to defend himself in such a way
that it was nearer the jail than what he wass.
But when he remembered how the jailer never complained
of prisoners of the limits chumping ofer the posts,
if so they chumped back again in a moment, the trouble
went out of his mind.
“Pretty soon after that he met
Tuncan Macdonnell of Greenfields, coming into Cornwall
with the wagon.
“‘And how is this, Glengatchie?’
says Tuncan. ’For you were never the man
to broke your bail.’
“Glengatchie, you’ll understand,
sir, is the name of my grandfather’s farm.
“‘Never fear, Greenfields,’
says my grandfather, ’for I’m not beyond
the post.’
“So Greenfields looked at the
post, and he looked at my grandfather, and he scratched
his head a wee, and he seen it was so; and then he
fell into a great admiration entirely.
“‘Get in with me, Glengatchie it’s
proud I’ll be to carry you home;’ and
he turned his team around. My grandfather did
so, taking great care to keep the post in front of
him all the time; and that way he reached home.
Out comes my grandmother running to embrace him; but
she had to throw her arms around the post and my grandfather’s
neck at the same time, he was that strict to be within
his promise. Pefore going ben the house,
he went to the back end of the kale-yard which was
farthest from the jail, and there he stuck the post;
and then he went back to see his sick child, while
all the neighbors that came round was glad to see
what a wise thought the saints had put into his mind
to save his bail and his promise.
“So there he stayed a week till
my father got well. Of course the constables
came after my grandfather, but the settlement would
not let the creatures come within a mile of Glengatchie.
You might think, sir, that my grandfather would have
stayed with his wife and weans, seeing the post was
all the time in the kale-yard, and him careful not
to go beyond it; but he was putting the settlement
to a great deal of trouble day and night to keep the
constables off, and he was fearful that they might
take the post away, if ever they got to Glengatchie,
and give him the name of false, that no McTavish ever
had. So Tuncan Greenfields and AEneas Sandfield
drove my grandfather back to the jail, him with the
post behind him in the wagon, so as he would be between
it and the jail. Of course Tougal Stewart tried
his best to have the bail declared forfeited; but
old Judge Jones only laughed, and said my grandfather
was a Hielan’ gentleman, with a very nice sense
of honor, and that was chust exactly the truth.
“How did my grandfather get
free in the end? Oh, then, that was because of
Tougal Stewart being careless him that thought
he knew so much of the law. The law was, you
will mind, that Tougal had to pay five shillings a
week for keeping my grandfather in the limits.
The money wass to be paid efery Monday, and it was
to be paid in lawful money of Canada, too. Well,
would you belief that Tougal paid in four shillings
in silver one Monday, and one shilling in coppers,
for he took up the collection in church the day pefore,
and it wass not till Tougal had gone away that the
jailer saw that one of the coppers was a Brock copper, a
medal, you will understand, made at General Brock’s
death, and not lawful money of Canada at all.
With that the jailer came out to my grandfather.
“‘Mr. McTavish,’
says he, taking off his hat, ’you are a free
man, and I’m glad of it.’ Then he
told him what Tougal had done.
“‘I hope you will not
have any hard feelings toward me, Mr. McTavish,’
said the jailer; and a decent man he wass, for all
that there wass not a drop of Hielan’ blood
in him. ’I hope you will not think hard
of me for not being hospitable to you, sir,’
says he; ’but it’s against the rules and
regulations for the jailer to be offering the best
he can command to the prisoners. Now that you
are free, Mr. McTavish,’ says the jailer, ’I
would be a proud man if Mr. McTavish of Glengatchie
would do me the honor of taking supper with me this
night. I will be asking your leave to invite
some of the gentlemen of the place, if you will say
the word, Mr. McTavish,’ says he.
“Well, my grandfather could
never bear malice, the kind man he was, and he seen
how bad the jailer felt, so he consented, and a great
company came in, to be sure, to celebrate the occasion.
“Did my grandfather pay the
balance on the plough? What for should you suspicion,
sir, that my grandfather would refuse his honest debt?
Of course he paid for the plough, for the crop was
good that fall.
“’I would be paying you
the other half of the plough now, Mr. Stewart,’
says my grandfather, coming in when the store was full.
“‘Hoich, but YOU are the
honest McTavish!’ says Tougal, sneering.
“But my grandfather made no
answer to the creature, for he thought it would be
unkind to mention how Tougal had paid out six pounds
four shillings and eleven pence to keep him in on
account of a debt of two pound five that never was
due till it was paid.”