IN THE CLOSS at Linmill, no faur frae the hoose back door and richt aneth the stable winnock, there was a muckle lump ο stane used as a sait, though it was gey cauld on the dowp gin the sun hadna been on it for a while first to warm it.
That was whaur I sat the first day I had my heid cowed, and what a day that was.
As faur as I can mind ye had to be aboot fower-year-auld in thae days afore they wad let ye aff weirin petticoats and pit ye into breeks, and till ye were into breeks ye had to weir yer hair lang, like a lassie.
It didna fash ye, mind ye, till ye began to loss yer freinds, and loss them ye did as sune as they had growen into breeks and haen their heids cowed. Then they seemed aa at ance to see something aboot ye they had missed afore, and ran awa and left ye to play by yersell, or fin new freinds amang the younger bairns. They werena gaun to be seen wi ye ony langer. Ye were juist like a lassie.
It was fashious whan it happened, but as I say, there was a lang time whan ye juist took it for grantit that, lassie or laddie, ye wore lang hair and petticoats, and, to tell ye the truith, there was a time, though it seems hard to believe, whan I was prood ο my hair, for I had glossie reid ringlets that my minnie spent hours on, twirlin her kaim through them ane efter the ither like she did her ain, then, whan they were aa ticht, tyin them into a bunch on the croun ο my heid wi a silk ribbon.
My curls won me a lot ο attention, for my maiks aa had hair like towe, moussie and straucht, and mony a sweetie I was gien, or cake or biscuit if the baker’s van had caaed, by the lassies frae Kirkfieldbank or Donegal that cam aboot the ferm to pou the strawberries. In fact, some ο them made ower muckle ο my hair, and wad try to lift me up and kiss me. Black Aggie managed it ance, and I can mind the smell ο her braith to this day. She was nearly aye fou, was Black Aggie, and drew awa aa day on a cuttie cley pipe. Sae ye can weill imagine.
But there it was. I had a heid ο hair like naebody in the place, and it won me a lot ο attention, and mony a titbit, and for a while I was prood ο it. As for my minnie, she fair dotit, and whan folk praised it to her face, and said there was nae dout whaur I had gotten it, for her ain hair was juist as curlie, and glossie tae, she wad purr like a cat wi pleisure.
The day cam, though, whan I began to want into breeks, and hae my hair cut short like ither laddies. I had gane wi my cuisin Jockie and young Tam Baxter ο the Falls, baith aulder nor mysell, to the fute ο the made walk abune Stanebyres Linn, whaur there was a sait for the folk that peyed sixpence up at the Falls hoose to Tam’s mither Martha and cam doun the made walk to see the view.
It was gey awesome at that sait, for ye lookit straucht ower an airn railin into the face ο the Linn, a muckle sheet ο watter roarin doun into space. Gin ye had the nerve to lean on the railin and look doun, and it took some nerve, I can tell ye, because the stanchions ο the railin were driven into the very lip ο the rock, and didna hae muckle grip: but if ye did hae the nerve and lookit doun ye could see naething, for the force ο the watter whan it hit the pule ablow filled the air wi spray. It wat ye, tae, and wi that, and the trummlin ο the grun aneth yer feet, ye werena inclined to linger, though if the aulder laddies had taen ye there ye tried yer best to look gallus.
Nou, this day, Jockie and young Tam Baxter had heard frae Tam’s aulder brither that there was a wey doun frae the made walk to the pule ablow the Linn. The Saumon Hole, the pule was caaed, though there had been nae saumon in Clyde for years, Tam’s faither said, wi the watter sae dirty frae Hamilton doun, for the saumon had to come frae the sea. But the Saumon Hole it was caaed, for the saumon had ance been held there by the Linn, and couldna win faurer up the watter, and it had a queer fascination, for ye couldna see it frae the bank abune, as I hae said, for the spray, and ye couldna see it frae faurer doun the watter, for at the tail ο it the watter took a turn, and left it oot ο sicht in a neuk.
Weill, this day Jockie and young Tam Baxter were determined to win doun to the Saumon Hole, and though they didna invite me to gang alang wi them, they alloued me to follow them the length ο the Falls sait.
Then they stertit to look for the wey doun. Jacob’s Lether, it was caaed, said young Tam, and telt us a story he said was oot ο the Bible, but Jockie said he didna see hou it could be the same lether, for Jacob bade in the Holy land, and that was somewhaur no near Clyde, and different athegither.
It wasna lang afore they fand the stert ο the wey doun, at a bit near the sait whaur a wee dribble ο a burn oot ο Tam Baxter’s orchard gaed through ablow the made walk in a cley drain, and then ran doun a nerra gully in the steep bank abune the watter. The pad they had been lookin for gaed doun the bank asides this bit spoot, and at first it didna look bye-ordinar steep, yet for aa that whan they had sclimmed the railin and were ready to stert aff on their wey doun to the watter they telt me to gang hame.
‘I want to come wi ye, Jockie,’ I said.
‘Awa hame. Ye’re ower wee.’
‘I want to come wi ye.’
‘Awa hame whan ye’re telt,’ said young Tam Baxter.
‘Ay,’ said Jockie, ‘ye couldna sclim doun here in thae petticoats. And yer ringlets wad taigle in the briers. We’ll tak ye doun some day whan ye hae short hair and breeks. But we canna tak ye like that.’
‘Ay,’ said young Tam Baxter, ‘this is nae place for bairns.’
‘I’ll follow ye,’ I said.
‘Ye’ll stick,’ said Jockie.
‘And we’ll no wait for ye,’ said young Tam Baxter. ‘Come on Jockie.’
And wi that they set aff doun the pad.
I sclimmed the railin and gaed efter them, and Jockie saw me.
‘If ye tummle ye’ll faa on to the rocks and get killed,’ he said.
‘I want to come wi ye,’ I said.
‘If ye dinna gang back hame I’ll pelt ye wi divots.’
He tore a divot oot ο the bank and lat flee at me, no hard, but some dirt cam aff it whan it was gaun past my heid and gaed into my een. I had to staun for a while blinkin to wark the dirt oot, and by the time I could see again Jockie and Young Tam Baxter were doun roun a bend and oot ο sicht.
I stertit to sclim doun efter them.
At first the pad gaed doun amang a lot ο plants wi lang peyntit leaves that tore in yer haunds gin ye tried to tak a grip ο them, and smelt juist like ingans. But it wasna bye-ordinar steep, and I sune passed the wild ingans, if that’s what they were, and cam to a shelf ο rock whaur the spoot ο watter gethert into a wee pule, and then disappeared ower the edge. The pad left the spoot at this peynt and gaed roun to the richt alang a shelf ο rock aneth the rutes ο a big ash tree growin oot ο the bank, and syne doun a wat slide whaur the shelf ο rock endit, on to a grassie ledge. On the wey doun the wat slide there was a lang thick ash rute that ye could haud on to like a railin, but what wad happen efter ye cam to the gressie ledge ye juist couldna tell. Aa ye could see frae the tap ο the slide was the ledge and syne space.
Jockie and young Tam Baxter maun hae gane that wey, though, sae I grippit the ash rute ticht and stertit to sclim doun the slide. My feet couldna grip it sae I juist sat on my dowp, and gat my petticoats wat. But the ash rute held firm and I lat mysell doun haund ower haund, and afore alang I had won to the gressie ledge.
It led back to the left aneth the shelf ο rock, and syne ahint the watter ο the spoot, and ahint the spoot the grun was saft wi watter, and I could see Jockie and young Tam Baxter’s futemarks.
Sae I kent that was the wey, and made efter them.
In ahint the spoot the watter dribblet ower my heid, and ran doun my neck and in aneth my claes, but that wasna aa that fasht me.
It was the saft wat grun. For juist whan I was aboot three quarters ο the wey across it, and near the firm grun on the ither side, it stertit to slip, and there was naething to haud on to. I wastit nae time thinkin. I juist glued my een to the firm grun and ran, and though I slippit a wee at ilka step, I won the ither side afore I had slippit to the lip ο the slope. Gin I had dune that, I dout, I wad hae been ower wi the spoot into space.
Ance on the firm grun I sat doun, and for a while I couldna gar mysel look roun. I juist glued my een to the grush atween my knees and waitit for my heid to stop birlin.
Syne I had a keek at whaur the pad gaed neist, and afore lang my heid was on the birl again, for it gaed on oot ο sicht alang the fute ο a steep rock, and juist on the peynt ο gaun oot ο sicht it grew sae nerra it was frichtsome.
I waitit for my heid to stop birlin again, and lookit to mak shair there was nae ither wey Jockie and young Tam Baxter could hae gane, but there was nane. The pad gaed alang that ledge, there was nae dout.
I kent I juist couldna face it, and that I wad hae to gang back, and I could hae grutten wi spite.
Then I thocht ο the slippery wat grun aneth the spoot, and I kent I couldna face that again aither, and, though I tried my best no to, I grat in the end.
Syne I began to see that I couldna bide there aa day, for Jockie and young Tam Baxter wad likely gang doun the watter whan they had won the fute ο the bank, and mak thir wey back to the made walk doun aboot Carlin, and maybe wadna fin oot that I was stuck till it was ower daurk to come to my help, and wad hae to tell my grandfaither, and maybe fetch oot the polis, wi lanterns. At the thocht ο it I roared like a bull.
And whan I realised that naebody could hear me abune the roar ο the Linn I cried oot lood for my minnie, and my grannie, and my grandfaither, and ein my cuisin Jockie himsell, till I hadna a braith left in my breist.
Syne in fair desperation I telt mysell that gin it had been possible to come doun it maun be possible to gang back, and I made mysell tak anither look at the saft wat slope ahint the spoot.
There was hinnie-suckle growin frae the rock at the heid ο it, and the main brainch was thicker nor a finger. Shairly it wad be strang eneugh to haud me.
I made my wey ower to it and tried. At the first pou it cam richt awa frae the rock, and I gey nearly fell ower backwards. Syne the very rute itsell stertit to pou oot ο the grun. I lowsed my grip as if I had haen my fingers brunt, and sat doun again, back on the firm grun.
In the end I made up my mind that the ae wey back ower that saft wat slope was the wey I had come, at a rin, sae I stude up and faced it, gluein my een hard to the firm grun on the ither side, and tryin no to look at the fully ery awa doun on the ither side ο Clyde, and the tuim space atween.
Aa at aince I ran for it, and was across afore I kent I had stertit.
I could haurdly believe it. I was sae pleased wi mysell I gaed the length ο thinkin ο gaun back again, and tryin the ledge alang the fute ο the steep rock, to see what happened whan it gaed oot ο sicht, and I declare I wad hae tried it, gin I hadna thocht first ο tryin to see if I could look doun at the faur awa fullyery withoot my heid birlin. It birlt, aa richt, and I had to sit for a while lookin at the gress atween my knees again afore I could force mysell juist to gang back hame the wey I had come.
I managed it, though whan I was pouin mysell up the wat slide by the ash rute I gat my knees cut, and anither soakin as weill, and by the time I had won back ower the wild ingans and on to the made walk I was a gey tousie sicht.
But I was fair pleased wi mysell, aa the same, for winnin back across that saft wat slope efter bein feart ο it, and I began to tell mysell that if Jockie and young Tam Baxter had been there to daur me on I wad hae won doun to the Saumon Hole wi nae bother.
Sae efter I had won back hame and haen a row frae my minnie for makin sic a sicht o mysell, and teirin my guid claes, and cuttin my knees, I stertit to prig at her for breeks and short hair.
‘Ye shairly dinna want to loss yer braw ringlets,’ she said.
‘I want short hair and breeks, like a laddie.’
‘Ye’re no big eneugh yet for short hair and breeks.’
‘I’m juist as big as Jockie.’
‘Ye’re no sae auld.’
‘I’m juist as big.’
‘But ye dinna want to loss yer braw ringlets.’
‘I hate my ringlets.’
‘I like yer ringlets, son.’
‘I hate them.’
‘Ah weill, we’ll see.’
I keepit on at her ilka day efter that, and ilka time I brocht the maitter up she tried to mak oot she had forgotten, but the day cam at last whan she gied in, and bocht me a pair ο breeks frae Willie Mitchell the packman, and gat my grandfaither to hae a word wi Tam Finlay up at Nether Affleck. Tam had been a shepherd, and they said he could cowe a heid ο hair wi a pair ο sheep shears as weill as Sandy Morrison the Lanark barber could dae it wi hair shears and clippers.
Tam Finlay cam doun frae Nether Affleck ae Setterday efternune, and my minnie pat me into my new breeks and took me oot to the stane sait aneth the stable winnock.
‘No ower short, Tam,’ she said, ‘and dinna speyl the ringlets. I wad like to keep them.’
‘Aa richt, Lizzie,’ said Tam, and laid haud ο me.
‘Sit still, Rab,’ he said.
I sat as still as daith, though it was hard, wi the hair frae the shears gaun doun my neck atween my claes and my skin, and ticklin me. But I tholed it like a Trojan, thinkin hou I wad sune be able to follow Jockie and young Tam Baxter aboot withoot aye bein telt to gang hame.
‘There ye are, ye can staun up nou,’ said Tam Finlay, whan he had feenished.
‘Oh Rab,’ said my minnie, and stertit to greit.
My grannie was lookin on, and she grat tae, but my grandfaither didna.
‘Ye made a guid job of that, Tam,’ he said. ‘Come on inbye and hae a dram.’
‘Thank ye,’ said Tam.
‘Can I rin awa and play nou?’ I askit.
‘Na na,’ said my minnie, ‘ye’ll hae to come inbye and let me see if I can gar it lie doun wi a brush and kaim and some cauld watter.
She took me inbye and wat my heid and syne kaimed it, and brushed it, and syne kaimed and brushed it again, and aye wi the tears rowin doun her face as if her hairt was brekin, till I was smittlet, and stertit to snivel mysell.
‘What’s wrang, hinnie,’ she askit, ‘are ye sorry efter aa?’
‘Na,’ I said. ‘I want oot to play.’
‘Awa wi ye, then,’ she said, no very pleased.
I ran aa ower the ferm lookin for Jockie, and fand him i the end wi anither cuisin frae Linnville, inside the hedge ο the front gairden, talkin in whispers.
I gaed up to them, fair preenin mysell, like a peacock.
‘Oh Jockie,’ I said, ‘can we gang doun to the Saumon Hole efter tea-time?’
‘It’s auntie Lizzie’s Rab,’ said Jockie.
‘Guid God,’ said big Tam Hannah frae Linnville, ‘I wadna hae kent him. What hae they dune to him?’
‘He’s lost his ringlets,’ said Jockie.
‘Look at his lugs,’ said Tam Hannah. ‘They’re like saucers. And I wadna hae thocht his neb was sae lang.’
‘He’s no very stoot aboot the legs, aither,’ said Jockie. ‘Ye’ll hae to sup mair parritch, Rab, nou that ye’re into breeks.’
‘Thae buttoned shune dinna help ony,’ said Tam Hannah. ‘God, he’s a sicht.’
I could haurdly believe my ears, and I didna bide to hear ony mair. I ran back to the hoose as hard as I could, and slippit in at the front door and up the stair to my minnie’s bedroom. There was a gless there abune a kist ο drawers, that ye could turn on its middle, and first I tried to turn it sae that it was facin doun at me, but I couldna get it to bide still lang eneuch to let me see mysell, sae I sclimmed up on a chair and brocht it doun on to the flair, and stude it against the kist ο drawers whaur it had to bide the wey I wantit it, and syne had a look.
I juist couldna thole it. I wadna hae kent it was me. Gin I had met the laddie in that gless ootbye I wad hae peetied him. I slank oot ο the hoose again by the front door and syne roun to the stable, and sclimmed up a travis into the hey laft, and lay doun and grat.
My grandfaither fand me there whan he cam lookin for me at tea-time.
‘What’s wrang wi ye?’ he askit.
I telt him.
‘Man,’ he said, ‘ye suldna fash yersell. Aabody looks like a skint rabbit the day they hae their heid cowed. Hae ye neir seen me?’
‘Na.’
‘Weill, juist you hae a look at me the neist time I come hame frae Sandy Morrison’s. I can haurdly thole to be seen.’
‘But my legs are sae skinny.’
‘They juist look it the nou. It’s because yer breeks are a wee thing shorter nor yer auld petticoats, and ye’re showin white abune the knees. Wait till the sun wins at ye, and ye’ll look fine.’
‘Are ye shair?’
‘Ay, come on in for yer tea.’
I kent ein at the time that he was leein, juist to please me, but in the end I got uised to mysell, and the ithers seemed to get uised to me tae.