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Updated: May 24, 2025
At Alves we pick up a fresh, hale gentleman, who is described to me as "the laird of three properties," bought for more than L100,000 by a man who began life as the son of a hillside crofter. We pass the picturesque ruins of Kinloss Abbey and draw up at Forres station, whose platform is thronged with noted agriculturists bound for the "Character" Fair. Here is that spirited Englishman Mr.
Whenever his eyes wandered for an instant from that which he saw in the distance, they rested upon the children, and then his whole face was wreathed in smiles. "At last they had succeeded in finding the crofter. Big Ingmar glanced away from the children with a sigh of relief when he heard Strong Ingmar's heavy step in the hallway.
Anyhow, the son thought he would try to make the old man talk about something else. So he said: "How is the man who went crazy last year getting on?" "Oh, you mean Jan of Ruffluck! Well, he has been in his right mind since last fall. He'll not be at the party, either. He's only a poor crofter like myself; so him you'll not miss, of course." This was true enough.
Ten to one the proud Highland crofter and his circle reap more genuine, unalloyed satisfaction from the message than the lowland statesman and his circle could reap from his. But it made Balfour famous, you say. So was Donald made famous, his circle not quite so wide as that of his colleague that is all. Donald is as much "uplifted" as the Prime Minister; probably more so.
Magnus is for sale, I weel ken that, and she's a right good boat. But where can a poor crofter body like me get the siller, think ye?" "'Deed, I dinna ken, Jack; but maybe the siller will come somehow. There's many a one in Orkney would advance it for you, surely. Dinna be cast down about it, man. What about your crew?" "Weel, I was thinkin' of yersel for one, Halcro?" "Of me!"
'The costs are ower big, even if ye found the minerals, for ye'd have to import a' your labour. The West Hielandman is no fond o' hard work. Ye ken the psalm o' the crofter? O that the peats would cut themselves, The fish chump on the shore, And that I in my bed might lie Henceforth for ever more! 'Has it ever been tried? I asked. 'Often.
Poor as the place was, I received a true and simple welcome, and I was glad of the shelter and the warmth, for the wind was whistling round the eaves and the heavy rain pelting against the little window. Jack Paterson was a poor crofter, who added to his scanty means by going to the deep-sea fishing, or, out of the fishing season, by burning kelp.
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