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But we can still see our stocks on the village greens, our branks, ducking-stools, and pillories in museums, and remind ourselves of the customs of former days which have not so very long ago passed away. Act of Parliament 25 George II. The passing away of the old bridges is a deplorable feature of vanishing England.
"I forgathered wi' Wilson on Wednesday last, and I tell ye, sirs, he's worth the watching. They'll need to stand on a baikie that put the branks on him. He has the considering eye in his head yon lang far-away glimmer at a thing from out the end of the eyebrow. He turned it on mysell twa-three times, the cunning devil, trying to keek into me, to see if he could use me.
When I returned, set to work and reached page 210 of copy. There is little or nothing else to say. Skene was with me for a few minutes. I called at Cadell's also, who thinks a dividend of 3s. per pound will be made out. This will be one-half of the whole debts, and leave a sinking fund for the rest about £10,000 a year "if the beast live and the branks bide hale." June 26.
Meanwhile, approaching the hut, Branks strode forward, paused, and gave a weird, low whistle. He was answered by a similar one, and then the cabin door was opened by a man dressed in a brown flannel hunting-shirt, corduroy trousers, and hip boots rolled down to the knees. He stood shading his eyes with both hands, as if blinded by the sunlight on emerging from the windowless cabin.
He felt he had been bright this morning. He had put the branks on Wilson! Wilson was as furious at himself as at Gourlay. Why the devil had he said "Good-morning"? It had slipped out of him unawares, and Gourlay had taken it up with an ironic birr that rang in his ears now, poisoning his blood. He felt equal in fancy to a thousand Gourlays now so strong was he in wrath against him.
"Look here, Branks," he added, "we can't let this kid blow the gaff on us to Lem Vinton. Why, the cap'n wouldn't wait ten minutes before he'd sail out to find that blamed cutter ag'in; and then we'd have him and the Petrel on our trail." "Harry, you're right -dead right. The boy has got to come with us, until " "Sure! Here, lend a hand. Tie his arms."
Perhaps she was a loud-voiced termagant; perhaps merely the ill-used wife of a drunken wretch, who well deserved her scolding; or the daring teller of home truths to some jack-in-office, who thus revenged himself. We have shrews and scolds still; happily they are restrained in a less barbarous fashion. You may still see some fearsome branks in museums.
My best respecks to the guidwife and a' our common friens, especiall Mr. and Mrs. Cruikshank, and the honest guidman o' Jock's Lodge. I'll be in Dumfries the morn gif the beast be to the fore, and the branks bide hale. Gude be wi' you, Willie! Amen! LI.-To MR. WILLIAM NICOL. MAUCHLINE, June l8, 1787.
"That you, Harry?" he inquired. "No, it's me -Branks," replied the other man. "Confound your eyesight, Joe! can't you tell an honest poor cuss from a crook?" He laughed at this merry sally, and Joe Durgan responded with a snort. "Who you-all got thar?" was his next question, as the others came up. "A kid, eh? What you-all doin' with him?"
As this was sure to be no easy work, the smugglers calculated to run the cargo and carry the goods into the cellar of the cabin. "Didn't know this hang-out had a cellar," said Branks. "Why don't we " "Shut up!" interrupted the cross-eyed man, holding up a grimy finger which he pointed at Hugh. "Did you say cigar, Branks?" he added craftily in a louder tone, so that Hugh might hear.
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