were set down for a trysted pair; and this being the case, we were
married as soon as a twelvemonth and a day had passed from the death

of the second Mrs Balwhidder; and neither of us have had occasion to
rue the bargain. It is, however, but a piece of justice due to my

second wife to say, that this was not a little owing to her good
management; for she had left such a well-plenished house, that her

successor said, we had nothing to do but to contribute to one
another's happiness.

In this year nothing more memorable happened in the parish, saving
that the cotton-mill dam burst about the time of the Lammas flood,

and the waters went forth like a deluge of destruction, carrying off
much victual, and causing a vast of damage to the mills that are

lower down the stream. It was just a prodigy to see how calmly Mr
Cayenne acted on that occasion; for, being at other times as crabbed

as a wud terrier, folk were afraid to tell him, till he came out
himself in the morning and saw the devastation; at the sight of

which he gave only a shrillwhistle, and began to laugh at the idea
of the men fearing to take him the news, as if he had not fortune

and philosophy enough, as he called it, to withstand much greater
misfortunes.

CHAPTER XXXVIII YEAR 1797
When I have seen in my walks the irrational creatures of God, the

birds and the beasts, governed by a kindly instinct in attendance on
their young, often has it come into my head that love and charity,

far more than reason or justice, formed the tie that holds the
world, with all its jarring wants and woes, in social dependence and

obligation together; and, in this year, a strong verification of the
soundness of this notion was exemplified in the conduct of the poor

haverel lassie Meg Gaffaw, whose naturality on the occasion of her
mother's death I have related at length in this chronicle.

In the course of the summer, Mr Henry Melcomb, who was a nephew to
Mr Cayenne, came down from England to see his uncle. He had just

completed his education at the college of Christ Church, in Oxford,
and was the most perfect young gentleman that had ever been seen in

this part of the country.
In his appearance he was a very paragon, with a fine manly

countenance, frank-hearted, blithe, and, in many points of
character, very like my old friend the Lord Eaglesham, who was shot.

Indeed, in some respects, he was even above his lordship; for he had
a great turn at ready wit, and could joke and banter in a most

agreeable manner. He came very often to the manse to see me, and
took great pleasure in my company, and really used a freedom that

was so droll, I could scarcely keep my composity and decorum with
him. Among others that shared in his attention, was daft Meg

Gaffaw, whom he had forgathered with one day in coming to see me;
and after conversing with her for some time, he handed her, as she

told me herself, over the kirk-stile like a lady of high degree, and
came with her to the manse door linking by the arm.

From the ill-timed daffin of that hour, poor Meg fell deep in love
with Mr Melcomb; and it was just a playacting to see the arts and

antics she put in practice to win his attention. In her garb, she
had never any sense of a proper propriety, but went about the

country asking for shapings of silks and satins, with which she
patched her duds, calling them by the divers names of robes and

negligees. All hitherto, however, had been moderation, compared to
the daffadile of vanity which she was now seen, when she had

searched, as she said, to the bottom of her coffer. I cannot take
it upon me to describe her; but she kythed in such a variety of

cuffs and ruffles, feathers, old gumflowers, painted paper knots,
ribbons, and furs, and laces, and went about gecking and simpering

with an old fan in her hand, that it was not in the power of nature
to look at her with sobriety.

Her first appearance in this masquerading was at the kirk on the
Sunday following her adventure with Mr Melcomb, and it was with a

sore difficulty that I could keep my eyes off her, even in prayer;
and when the kirk skailed, she walked before him, spreading all her

grandeur to catch his eye, in such a manner as had not been seen or
heard of since the prank that Lady Macadam played Miss Betty

Wudrife.
Any other but Mr Melcomb would have been provoked by the fool's

folly; but he humoured her wit, and, to the amazement of the whole
people, presented her his hand, and allemanded her along in a manner

that should not have been seen in any street out of a king's court,
and far less on the Lord's day. But, alas! this sport did not last

long. Mr Melcomb had come from England to be 'married' to his
cousin, Miss Virginia Cayenne, and poor daft Meg never heard of it

till the banns for their purpose of marriage was read out by Mr
Lorimore on the Sabbath after. The words were scarcely out of his

mouth, when the simple and innocent natural gave a loud shriek, that
terrified the whole congregation, and ran out of the kirk demented.

There was no more finery for poor Meg; but she went and sat opposite
to the windows of Mr Cayenne's house, where Mr Melcomb was, with

clasped hands and beseeching eyes, like a monumentalstatue in
alabaster, and no entreaty could drive her away. Mr Melcomb sent

her money, and the bride many a fine thing; but Meg flung them from
her, and clasped her hands again, and still sat. Mr Cayenne would

have let loose the house-dog on her, but was not permitted.
In the evening it began to rain, and they thought that and the

coming darkness would drive her away; but when the servants looked
out before barring the doors, there she was in the same posture. I

was to perform the marriage ceremony at seven o'clock in the
morning, for the young pair were to go that night to Edinburgh; and

when I went, there was Meg sitting looking at the windows with her
hands clasped. When she saw me she gave a shrill cry, and took me

by the hand, and wised me to go back, crying out in a heart-breaking
voice, "O, Sir! No yet--no yet! He'll maybe draw back, and think

of a far truer bride." I was wae for her and very angry with the
servants for laughing at the fond folly of the ill-less thing.

When the marriage was over, and the carriage at the door, the
bridegroom handed in the bride. Poor Meg saw this, and jumping up

from where she sat, was at his side like a spirit, as he was
stepping in, and, taking him by the hand, she looked in his face so

piteously, that every heart was sorrowful, for she could say
nothing. When he pulled away his hand, and the door was shut, she

stood as if she had been charmed to the spot, and saw the chaise
drive away. All that were about the door then spoke to her, but she

heard us not. At last she gave a deep sigh, and the water coming
into her eye, she said, "The worm--the worm is my bonny bridegroom,

and Jenny with the many-feet my bridal maid. The mill-dam water's
the wine o' the wedding, and the clay and the clod shall be my

bedding. A lang night is meet for a bridal, but none shall be
langer than mine." In saying which words, she fled from among us,

with heels like the wind. The servants pursued; but long before
they could stop her, she was past redemption in the deepest plumb of

the cotton-mill dam.
Few deaths had for many a day happened in the parish, to cause so

much sorrow as that of this poor silly creature. She was a sort of
household familiar among us, and there was much like the inner side

of wisdom in the pattern of her sayings, many of which are still
preserved as proverbs.

CHAPTER XXXIX YEAR 1798
This was one of the heaviest years in the whole course of my

ministry. The spring was slow of coming, and cold and wet when it
did come; the dibs were full, the roads foul, and the ground that

should have been dry at the seed-time, was as claggy as clay, and
clung to the harrow. The labour of man and beast was thereby

augmented; and all nature being in a state of sluggish
indisposition, it was evident to every eye of experience that there

would be a great disappointment to the hopes of the husbandman.
Foreseeing this, I gathered the opinion of all the most sagacious of

my parishioners, and consulted with them for a provision against the