The ash-tree before Mother
Binning's cot overhung a pool of the little river. Below, the water
brawled and leaped from ledge to ledge, but here at the head of the
glen it ran smooth and still. A rose-bush grew by the door and a hen
and her chicks crossed in the sun. English Strickland, who had been
fishing, sat on the door-stone and talked to Mother Binning, sitting
within with her wheel beside her.
"What is it, Mother, to have the second sight?"
"It's to see behind the here and now. Why're ye asking?"
"I wish I could buy it or slave for it!" said Strickland. "Over and
over again I really need to see behind the here and now!"
"Aye. It's needed mair really than folk think. It's no' to be had by
buying nor slaving. How are the laird and the leddy?"
"Why, well. Tell me," said Strickland, "some of the things you've
seen with second sight."
"It taks inner ears for inner things."
"How do you know I haven't them?"
"Maybe 'tis so. Ye're liked well enough."
Mother Binning looked at the dappling water and the June trees and the
bright blue sky. It was a day to loosen tongue.
"I'll tell you ane thing I saw. It's mair than twenty years since
James Stewart, that was son of him who fled, wad get Scotland and
England again intil his hand. So the laddie came frae overseas, and
made stir and trouble enough, I tell ye!.
Pages:
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25