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Wm McCulloch >>
Deputation to the Minister
The Deputation to the Minister
It wis late yae winter's nicht when oor beadle Patie Blaurch cam wallochin an whazzling in at my gate an', drapping exhausted intae a chair he says, "Oh, I canna keep it frae ye ony longer I hae wrastled wi' a gulity conscience for weeks noo, and the thocht o't's fair killing me. So cam oot wi' me an ye'll hear the terrible scandal. The meenister - aye, I'll say it supposin it should choke me - the meenister has got a fiddle. He has got a fiddle, an' he plays on it till the latest hoors o' the nicht. Noo I only hope ye'll be merciful wi' him for he has been like an auld freen to me. Noo, them's his breeks ah've on, an' they fit me better than the last minister's did."
Ah, but this was news indeed. A special meeting o' the kirk session was at once convened and fower o' us wis appointed tae visit the offender, the Reverend Mr Slytext and demand from him an explanation o' his heathenish conduct and wis telt tae report progress at a meeting held on the Monday nicht following. Ah weel, the next nicht we merched in solemn procession towards the manse, an never yince spoke until we wis nearby the gate.
"Ah but here," says I, "Hae ye been thinkin aboot whit we're gaun tae say, an' who's gaun tae say it?" "That's weel-minded," says Elder Howison, "We'll need tae mak' some arrangement aboot the speakin'. We canna a' speak at yince, an' we mauna staund roond like a lot o' dumb stirks as if we dinna ken what we've come aboot." Weel it wis resolved that Elder Tamson would act as spokesman to the deputation, and that Elder Howison should act as a sort of flank support to him. Now we hadna gone faur when auld Elder Tamson stops an says, "I'm maist shair tae brak doon an' mak a fuil o' mysel. I never wis used tae yer nice, gabbit mealie-moothed way o' speakin, an' I'm thinkin' that plain, broad Scots wad hardly dae in this case. An' anither thing is, should I address him as Sir, or, or Yer Reverance, or jist as plain Mr Slytext think ye?" The difficulty wis deftly solved by Deacon Splint's suggestion, "No' tae ca' him onything, but jist fur tae state the object of the deputation in as few words as possible."
Noo, although we had nae idea, the minister kent we were comin' tae the manse, an' whit aboot, an' he wis weel prepared tae meet us. In fact we hadna got ower the initial perplexity as tae whether we should staund with oor hats in oor haunds or hing them on the lobby flair, when he banged intae the room an' he says in his speacial "sale of work" manner, "Ah, this is friendly indeed! I had almost despaired of any of you ever coming to see us! My good lady, however, has continued to say that you would give is a pleasant surprise some evening, and I am glad to see that she has proved so true a prophet in the matter. Yes."
He'll no' be sae pleased in five minutes, for Elder Tamson wis shapin' his mooth ready tae stert on the minister. But the tongue o' the minister gaed yitter yatterin' on, and I'll be hanged if ye could get a word in edgeways. By and by the minister's wife an' her guid sister cam ben, an' the crack gaed on frae this tae that, till at last the minister says, "We will proceed to the dining room and partake of a little supper."
Well, we were a' a bit dumbfoonert, an' jist wandert in ahint the minister like a wheen o' young deuks at the tail o' a cluckin' hen. Yon wis a supper! There wis some things on thon table I'd never tasted in my life before, an' some I hope I'll never taste again. An' then there wis a hearty bowl o' toddy made. "It is a cold night," said the minister, "and we would be the better of something to keep the genial current warm." Ah weel, we warmt it! We wad hae aboot twa glesses o' toddy apiece, or maybe seeven - I'll no' argue the point - when the minister proposed we should hae some music. It wis Martyrdom we led aff wi', an' we sand like a wheen o' linties on a boannie Sabbath moarnin'. During the lang singin' the minister slippit quietly oot the room, an' a meenit later we suddenly became conscious that a new and richer voice wis jining the sang, an' lookin' roond we sees the minister sitting ahint the curtains playin' on whit he telt me wis a "violent sello," but whit appeared tae me tae be a full-grown fiddle's great great grandfaither. Then he played some psalm tunes on't, in a manner that raised the devotional speerit high in the breast o' every yin o' us. Syne he wandered on among some o' the mair plaintive o' oor auld Scots sangs the which he played wi' sic tender pathos that mair than yin haund raised in dichted awa' the fallen tear.
An' the croonin' triumph o' the nicht wis reached when to the stirrin' strains o' a merry strathspey the twa auld Elders simultaneously jumpit tae their feet an' the yin grippin' the minister's wife, the tither grippit the sister, then makin their thooms an' hoochin' like a pair o' kilted gillies ower the tap o' a wasp bike, broke intae a fowersome reel in the middle o' the dining room flair.
We'd be aboot hauf way hame that nicht when Elder Howison stopped suddenly in the middle o' the road an' says, "Are we no' a paircel o' born idiots? Sent in a deputation to reprove the minister for fiddle-playin', an' hang the hale lot o' us if we hadna bin fiddlin' an' fuddlin' the hale nicht! Whit...whit sort o' report are we tae gi' the meetin' on Monday nicht?" "The thing's a'richt," says Deacon Splint, wha by the way had taken the minister's hat instead o' his ain, an' wis keekin' oot frae below the brim like a wee moose oot a rabbit's hole, "The thing's a'richt. I'm satisfied, an' I'm sure that th'ither members o' the deputation...where are they? Whaur are ye Tamson? I see you. Cam oot o' the ditch. Ye're whit? Ye're no' in yer bed at a'. Cam oot o' that! I'm satisfied, an' I'm sure that th'ither members are thoroughly satisfied an entirely wrong impression his gane abroad against a decent man. The beadle is a haverin' , claverin', cat-witted auld fuil! Yon's no' a wee skirlin' cock-a-bendy tuppeny-ha'penny sinfu' fiddle. No, yon's a big gossy, soncy...my...yon's a releegious fiddle!"Back to top