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Updated: May 5, 2025
Indeed, certain of the light-minded youth of Eden Valley called the parlour with the faded red velvet chairs by the name of "Little Heaven" because so many marriages had been made there. Old Robert Anderson of Birkenbog was known to me by sight a huge, jovial, two-ply man, chin and waistcoat alike testifying to good cheer. He wore a large horse-shoe pin in his unstiffened stock.
The clearer understanding there is between families on such like arrangements, the less trouble there will be in the future!" And he strode away out into the yard, halting, however, at the door to call out in a voice that could be heard all over the neighbourhood, "Come thy ways up to Birkenbog on Sunday and take a bit o' dinner wi' us!
She was as red in the face as Birkenbog himself, for a cur with a kettle tied to its tail had taken refuge under her stall, and she had been serving a writ of ejectment with the same old umbrella with which she whacked thievish boys and sheltered her goods on rainy days. But I heeded not. I was seeking solitude. I felt that I wanted nothing from the entire clan of human beings.
It is doubtful if this draggled Dick Turpin, lying in Bridewell, appreciated Birkenbog's humour quite so much as did Cochrane and Blethering Jock when he told them the story afterwards. If I had any common-sense I might have seen that Birkenbog was not a safe man to trouble in the matter of an only daughter, without the most serious intentions in the world.
It can come off what I have put aside to give the man that took Lottie off my hands! A doctor yes, that's the business, and one sore needed here in this very Eden Valley! Whisht there who think ye bought old Andrew Leith's practice and house? Who keeps the lads from the college there and sends them packing at the end of every six months? Why, me Anderson of Birkenbog.
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