The Pirate
"Mair by token," moreover, especially.
Maist, most.
Markal, the head of the plough.
Maun, must.
Mearns, Kincardineshire.
Meltith, food, a meal.
Mense, manners.
"Merk of land," originally equal to 1600 square fathoms.
"Miching malicho," lurking mischief.
Mickle, much.
Mill-eye, the eye or opening in the _hupes_ or cases of a mill at
which the meal is let out.
Mind, to remember.
Mony, many.
"Morn, the," to-morrow.
"Mould board," the wooden board of the plough which turns over the
ground.
Muckle, much, big.
Multures, dues paid for grinding corn.
"My certie!" my faith!
Na, nae, no, not.
Nacket, a portable refreshment or luncheon.
Naig, a nag.
Nane, none.
Napery, household linen.
Natheless, nevertheless.
Neist, next.
Nievefu', a handful.
Noup, a headland precipitous to the sea and sloping inland.
Nowt, black cattle.
Ony, any.
Or, before.
O't, of it.
Out-taken, except.
Out-town, land at a distance from the farmhouse.
Ower, over.
Owerlay, a cravat.
Owsen, oxen.
Parritch, porridge.
Partan, a crab.
Pawky, wily, slyly.
Peat-moss, the place whence peats are dug.
Peltrie, trash.
Pit, put.
"Plantie cruive," a kail-yard.
Pleugh, a plough.
Pouch, a pocket.
Puir, poor.
Pund Scots = 1_s._ 8_d._ sterling.
Quaigh, a small wooden cup.
Quean, a disrespectful term for a woman.
Quern, a hand-mill.
Raddman, a councillor.
Randy, riotous, disorderly.
Ranzelman, a constable.
Redding-kaim, a wide-toothed comb for the hair.
Reek, smoke.
Reimkennar, one who knows mystic rhyme.
Reset, a place of shelter.
Rigging, a ridge, a roof.
Ritt, a scratch or incision.
Riva, a cleft in a rock.
Rock, a distaff.
Rokelay, a short cloak.
"Roose the ford," judge of the ford.
Roost, a strong and boisterous current.
Rotton, a rat.
Sackless, innocent.
Sae, so.
Sain, to bless.
Sair, sore.
Sall, shall.
Sandie-lavrock, a sand-lark.
Sang, a song.
Saul, the soul.
Saunt, a saint.
Saut, salt.
Sax, six.
Scald, a bard or minstrel.
Scart, a cormorant.
Scart, to scratch.
Scat, a land-tax paid to the Crown.
Scathold, a common.
Scaur, a cliff.
"Sclate stane," slate stone.
Scowrie, shabby, mean.
Scowries, young sea-gulls.
Sealgh, sealchie, a seal.
Setting, fitting, becoming.
"Sharney peat," fuel made of cow's dung.
Sheltie, a Shetland pony.
Shouldna, should not.
Shouthers, the shoulders.
Sic, siccan, such.
Siccar, sure.
Siever, a sewer.
Siller, money.
Sillocks, the fry of the coal-fish.
Skeoe, a stone hut for drying fish.
Skerry, a flat insulated rock.
Skirl, to scream.
Skudler, the leader of a band of mummers.
Slap, a gap or pass.
Slocken, to quench.
Sneck, the latch of the door.
Sock, a ploughshare.
Sole-clout, a thick plate of cast metal attached to that part of the
plough which runs on the ground, for saving the wooden heel from
being worn.
Sorner, a sturdy beggar, an obtrusive guest.
Sorning, masterful begging.
Sort, a small number.
Sough, a sigh;
to emit a rushing or whistling sound.
Spreacherie, movables.
Spunk, a match.
Stack, an insulated precipitous rock.
"Stilts of plough," handles.
Stithy, an anvil.
Stot, a bullock.
Streek, to stretch.
Striddle, to straddle.
Sucken, mill dues.
Suld, should.
Sumph, a lubberly fellow.
Sune, soon.
Swalled, swollen.
Swap, to exchange.
Syne, since, ago.
Syver, a sewer.
Tacksman, a tenant of the higher class.
Taen, taken.
Tane, the one.
Tangs, tongs.
Thae, these, those.
Theekit, thatched.
Thegither, together.
Thigger, a beggar.
Thigging, begging.
Thirl, the obligation on a tenant to have his flour ground at a
certain mill.
Thirled, bound to.
Thole, to endure.
Thrawart, forward, perverse.
Tither, the other.
Tittie, a little sister.
Tocher, dowry, estate.
Toom, empty.
Tows, ropes.
Toy, a linen or woollen headdress hanging down over the shoulders.
"Tree and tow," the gallows.
Trindle, to trundle.
Trock, to barter.
Trow, to believe, to think, to guess.
Trow or Drow, a spirit or elf believed in by the Norse.
Twa, two.
Twal, twelve.
Twiscar, tuskar, a spade for cutting peats.
Udaller, a freehold proprietor.
Ultima Thule, farthest Thule.
Ulzie, oil.
Umquhile, the late.
Uncanny, dangerous; supposed to possess supernatural powers.
Unce, ounce.
Unco, very, strange, great, particularly.
Ure, the eighth part of a merk of land.
Usquebaugh, whisky.
Vivers, victuals.
Voe, an inlet of the sea.
Wad, would.
Wadmaal, homespun woollen cloth.
Wakerife, watchful, wakeful.
Wan, won, got.
Warlock, a wizard.
Watna, know not.
Wattle, an assessment for the salary of the magistrate.
Waur, worse.
Wee, small, little.
Weel, well.
Well, a whirlpool.
Wha, who.
Whan, when.
"What for," why.
Wheen, a few.
Whigamore, a term of the same meaning with _Whig_, applied to
Presbyterians, but more contemptuous.
Whiles, sometimes.
Whilk, which.
Whingers, hangers, knives.
Whittie-whattieing, shuffling or wheedling.
Whittle, a knife.
Wi', with.
Wick, an open bay.
Win, to get.
Withy, a rope of twisted wands.
Wot, to know.
Wowf, crazy.
Yarn-windle, a yarn-winder.
Yestreen, yesterday.
Yett, a gate.
END OF VOL. I.
* * * * *
THE PIRATE.
Nothing in him----
But doth suffer a sea-change.
_Tempest._
THE PIRATE.
CHAPTER I.
But lost to me, for ever lost those joys,
Which reason scatters, and which time destroys.
No more the midnight fairy-train I view,
All in the merry moonlight tippling dew.
Even the last lingering fiction of the brain,
The churchyard ghost, is now at rest again.
_The Library._
The moral bard, from whom we borrow the motto of this chapter, has
touched a theme with which most readers have some feelings that vibrate
unconsciously. Superstition, when not arrayed in her full horrors, but
laying a gentle hand only on her suppliant's head, had charms which we
fail not to regret, even in those stages of society from which her
influence is wellnigh banished by the light of reason and general
education. At least, in more ignorant periods, her system of ideal
terrors had something in them interesting to minds which had few means
of excitement. This is more especially true of those lighter
modifications of superstitious feelings and practices which mingle in
the amusements of the ruder ages, and are, like the auguries of
Hallow-e'en in Scotland, considered partly as matter of merriment,
partly as sad and prophetic earnest. And, with similar feelings, people
even of tolerable education have, in our times, sought the cell of a
fortune-teller, upon a frolic, as it is termed, and yet not always in a
disposition absolutely sceptical towards the responses they receive.
When the sisters of Burgh-Westra arrived in the apartment destined for a
breakfast, as ample as that which we have described on the preceding
morning, and had undergone a jocular rebuke from the Udaller for their
late attendance, they found the company, most of whom had already
breakfasted, engaged in an ancient Norwegian custom, of the character
which we have just described.
It seems to have been borrowed from those poems of the Scalds, in which
champions and heroines are so often represented as seeking to know their
destiny from some sorceress or prophetess, who, as in the legend called
by Gray the Descent of Odin, awakens by the force of Runic rhyme the
unwilling revealer of the doom of fate, and compels from her answers,
often of dubious import, but which were then believed to express some
shadow of the events of futurity.
An old sibyl, Euphane Fea, the housekeeper we have already mentioned,
was installed in the recess of a large window, studiously darkened by
bear-skins and other miscellaneous drapery, so as to give it something
the appearance of a Laplander's hut, and accommodated, like a
confessional chair, with an aperture, which permitted the person within
to hear with ease whatever questions should be put, though not to see
the querist. Here seated, the voluspa, or sibyl, was to listen to the
rhythmical enquiries which should be made to her, and return an
extemporaneous answer. The drapery was supposed to prevent her from
seeing by what individuals she was consulted, and the intended or
accidental reference which the answer given under such circumstances
bore to the situation of the person by whom the question was asked,
often furnished food for laughter, and sometimes, as it happened, for
more serious reflection. The sibyl was usually chosen from her
possessing the talent of improvisation in the Norse poetry; no unusual
accomplishment, where the minds of many were stored with old verses, and
where the rules of metrical composition are uncommonly simple. The
questions were also put in verse; but as this power of extemporaneous
composition, though common, could not be supposed universal, the medium
of an interpreter might be used by any querist, which interpreter,
holding the consulter of the oracle by the hand, and standing by the
place from which the oracles were issued, had the task of rendering into
verse the subject of enquiry.
On the present occasion, Claud Halcro was summoned, by the universal
voice, to perform the part of interpreter; and, after shaking his head,
and muttering some apology for decay of memory and poetical powers,
contradicted at once by his own conscious smile of confidence and by the
general shout of the company, the lighthearted old man came forward to
play his part in the proposed entertainment.
But just as it was about to commence, the arrangement of parts was
singularly altered. Norna of the Fitful-head, whom every one excepting
the two sisters believed to be at the distance of many miles, suddenly,
and without greeting, entered the apartment, walked majestically up to
the bearskin tabernacle, and signed to the female who was there seated
to abdicate her sanctuary. The old woman came forth, shaking her head,
and looking like one overwhelmed with fear; nor, indeed, were there many
in the company who saw with absolute composure the sudden appearance of
a person, so well known and so generally dreaded as Norna.
She paused a moment at the entrance of the tent; and, as she raised the
skin which formed the entrance, she looked up to the north, as if
imploring from that quarter a strain of inspiration; then signing to the
surprised guests that they might approach in succession the shrine in
which she was about to install herself, she entered the tent, and was
shrouded from their sight.
But this was a different sport from what the company had meditated, and
to most of them seemed to present so much more of earnest than of game,
that there was no alacrity shown to consult the oracle. The character
and pretensions of Norna seemed, to almost all present, too serious for
the part which she had assumed; the men whispered to each other, and the
women, according to Claud Halcro, realized the description of glorious
John Dryden,--