Punch. Time and again I tried to read ROB ROY,
with whom of course I was acquainted from the TALES OF A GRANDFATHER;
time and again the early part, with Rashleigh and (think of it!) the
adorable Diana, choked me off; and I shall never forget the pleasure
and surprise with which, lying on the floor one summer evening, I
struck of a sudden into the first scene with Andrew Fairservice.
'The worthy Dr. Lightfoot' - 'mistrysted with a bogle' - 'a wheen
green trash' - 'Jenny, lass, I think I ha'e her': from that day to
this the phrases have been unforgotten. I read on, I need scarce
say; I came to Glasgow, I bided tryst on Glasgow Bridge, I met Rob
Roy and the Bailie in the Tolbooth, all with transporting pleasure;
and then the clouds gathered once more about my path; and I dozed and
skipped until I stumbled half-asleep into the clachan of Aberfoyle,
and the voices of Iverach and Galbraith recalled me to myself. With
that scene and the defeat of Captain Thornton the book concluded;
Helen and her sons shocked even the little schoolboy of nine or ten
with their unreality; I read no more, or I did not grasp what I was
reading; and years elapsed before I consciously met Diana and her
father among the hills, or saw Rashleigh dying in the chair.
Pages:
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274
275