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Updated: July 1, 2025
'Rob, said he, 'ye maun be doing something now. There's a cousin of mine has a whisky shop in the Saltmarket in Glasgow, and I could get ye a place there. Rob's very gorge rose at the notion of his having to serve in a whisky shop in Glasgow. That would be to abandon all the proud ambitions of his life.
Certes, there's no man o' the name in Virginia." I was beginning to think that my memory had played me false, when suddenly the whole scene in the Saltmarket leaped vividly to my brain. Then I remembered the something else I had been enjoined to say.
For some years they carried on business together in Brunswick Street, but fortune frowned upon their efforts, and the firm was dissolved. Subsequently James entered into partnership with his brother William, who had been engaged for some years in a small drapery shop in High Street, and the brothers established themselves in business in the Saltmarket.
The man will say that he never heard tell of the name, and then you will speak these words to him. You will say 'The lymphads are on the loch, and the horn of Diarmaid has sounded. Keep them well in mind, for some way or other they will bring you and me together." Without another word he was off, and as I committed the gibberish to memory I could hear his song going up the Saltmarket:
It was left to me, therefore, to do honour to our landlord's hospitable cheer to his tea, right from China, which he got in a present from some eminent ship's-husband at Wapping to his coffee, from a snug plantation of his own, as he informed us with a wink, called Saltmarket Grove, in the island of Jamaica to his English toast and ale, his Scotch dried salmon, his Lochfine herrings, and even to the double-damask table-cloth, "wrought by no hand, as you may guess," save that of his deceased father the worthy Deacon Jarvie.
There are numbers of such localities in the heart of the city, south of the Trongate, westward from the Saltmarket, in Calton and off the High Street, endless labyrinths of lanes or wynds into which open at almost every step, courts or blind alleys, formed by ill-ventilated, high-piled, waterless, and dilapidated houses. These are literally swarming with inhabitants.
The second Mrs Balwhidder sent her butter on the market-days to Irville, and her cheese from time to time to Glasgow, to Mrs Firlot, that kept the huxtry in the Saltmarket; and they were both so well made, that our dairy was just a coining of money, insomuch that, after the first year, we had the whole tot of my stipend to put untouched into the bank.
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