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There is a story of his boyhood which it would be wrong of me not to tell. His mother and he had been up in the mountains cutting gorse and ling, which with turf from the Curragh used to be the crofter's only fuel.
I never saw human beings living in such utter filth and poverty. A crofter's cottage in Scotland, or an Irish hovel with the pigs and children all living together, was a palace compared to that awful hole. I remonstrated vigorously with W. and the Mayor of La Ferté for allowing people to live in that way, like beasts, upon the highroad, close to a perfectly prosperous country town.
It is a common experience everywhere that long-continued use begets and fosters the feeling of ownership. This is especially true when, as in the crofter's case, there is so much in the history and traditions of the people and the property that tends to establish a right of possession.
But, further, a bull was withdrawn from the sale and sent home to Tillyfour from Dorsell the night of the sale, to all appearance in perfect health, though he afterwards died of the disease. He was watered at a watering-place on the roadside, where a crofter's cattle watered daily. The crofter's cattle went down in the disease, and one of them died.
But old people knew that when their grandparents were children, it had been a crofter's cottage where only two horses were kept, and belonged to a certain Vevest Koller, a grandson of Jens Kofod, the liberator of Bornholm. During his time, the cottage became a farm. He worked himself to death on it, and grudged food both for himself and the others.
On the day after Christmas Day there was a kind of subscription merrymaking at an enterprising crofter's down in the village; it was to cost two and a half krones a couple for music, sandwiches, and spirits in the middle of the night, and coffee toward morning. Gustav and Bodil were going.
And yet, if I could make you love me, it wouldn't count for a blade of grass that your father was born in a castle and mine in a crofter's cabin.... Only you know too he became timid and hesitant again 'you know it isn't that I don't feel you as far above me, almost, as those stars in the sky.... 'Oh don't, don't, Mr McKeith. It isn't true, you know.
They took pains to show that they considered the crofter's son a common brat, and resented the meenister's' expecting them to do anything for his future, just because his name happened to be MacDonald, and he lived in a hut on a remote point of their island. Ian didn't lose courage, though; and soon after the great snub he contrived to work his way somehow to Edinburgh.
It had happened on the Saturday afternoon before. Jock was down town, standing on the sidewalk in front of Crofter's hotel discussing the bad state of the roads with a farmer friend, when Mr. Crofter came forth, and after introducing the subject of Local Option in a friendly fashion, said: "Well, sir, I'm glad to see one good Presbyterian who hasn't gone off his head over this tom-foolery."
He distrusted almost every one in Algonquin, but he knew old Angus McRae's son would be incapable of dishonesty. The second surprise came a few months later when the success of Crofter's deal had made the young lawyer's name. Alexander Graham took all his business out of the hands of the Willoughby firm, and gave it to Brians & McRae.
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