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Updated: May 4, 2025
McNish. "Well not exactly that is I don't know but you might call it a religious meetin'. To my mind, Mrs. McNish, you know " But Mrs. McNish would have no sophistry. "Mr. Wigglesworth," she began sternly. But Malcolm cut in. "Now, Mother, I suppose it's a regular enough meeting. Just wait till I get my hat, Mr. Wigglesworth. I'll be with you." His mother followed him into the house, leaving Mr.
"Yes. Oh! you don't know about her. Captain Jack brought her along. Mrs. Mc-something." "McNish," supplied Adrien. "Yes, McNish," continued Patricia, "a perfect dear! She did everything but swear. Indeed, she may have been swearing for I could not understand half of what she said." Adrien interrupted: "She is perfectly priceless, Mother. I wish you could meet her so dignified and sweet."
After an hour spent in canvassing the subject from various points of view, the Reverend Murdo exclaimed: "Let us go and see McNish." "The very thing," said Maitland. "I have been trying to get in touch with him for the last month or so, but he avoids me." "Ay," replied the Reverend Murdo, "he has a reason, no doubt." To Maitland's joy they found McNish at home.
Maitland, turning the work over in his hands, ran his finger along a joint somewhat clumsily fitted. "Not that," said McNish hastily. "Ma work stops here." Again Maitland examined the rail. His experienced eye detected easily the difference in the workmanship. "Is there anything else of yours about here?" he asked.
Maitland was trying to cheer the old lady up when she said to him: 'Yon half backs, A'm thinkin'' she was a soccer fan in the old land, I believe 'yon half backs, A'm thinkin', are gey confident. It is a peety they cudna be shaken a bit in their nerves. By Jove! Maitland jumped at it. 'Mrs. McNish, you're right! you're right. I wonder I did not think of it before."
Then there was McNish. McNish was a sore puzzle to him. He had come to regard the Scotchman with a feeling of sincere friendliness. He remembered gratefully his ready and efficient help against the attacks of the radical element among his fellow workmen. On several occasions he, with the Reverend Murdo Matheson, had foregathered in the McNish home to discuss economic problems over a quiet pipe.
"Keep quiet yourself, McNish," replied the man, still pushing his way toward the front. "Heaven help us now," said Maitland. "It's Tony, and drunk at that!" It was indeed Tony, without hat, coat or vest. "McNish, we want those scabs," said Tony, in drunken gravity. "There are nae scabs here. Haud ye're drunken tongue," said McNish savagely.
In the first place, never in his career had one of his men addressed him in the cool terms of equality which McNish had used with him in the recent interview. Then, never had he been approached by a Grievance Committee. The whole situation was new, irritating, humiliating. As to the wages question, he would settle that without difficulty. He had never skimped the pay envelope.
A silence deep as death fell upon the mob. With a groan McNish dropped from the fence beside the girl. Annette opened her eyes and, looking up into Maitland's face, whispered: "He didn't get you, Jack. I'm so glad." "Oh, Annette, dear girl! He's killed you!" "It's all right Jack," she whispered. "I saved you." Meanwhile McNish, with her hand caught in his, was sobbing: "God, have mercy!
Then stepping to the workman's side he said, "You will save time, I think, if you do it this way." He seized the levers and, eliminating an unnecessary movement, ran the log. McNish stood calmly observing. "Aye, yere r-right," he said. "Ye'll have done yon before." "You just bet I have," said Maitland, not a little pleased with himself. "A'm no saw man," said McNish, a little sullenly.
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