THE SIMPLE MAN IS THE BEGGAR'S BROTHER.

"Many a time," said Nicholas Middlemiss, as he turned round the skirts and the sleeve of his threadbare coat to examine them, "many a time have I heard my mother say to my faither—'Roger, Roger (for that was my faither's name,) the simple man is the beggar's brother.' But, notwithstanding my mother's admonitions, my faither certainly was a very simple man. He allowed people to take him in, even while they were laughing in his face at his simplicity. I dinna think that ever there was a week but that somebody or other owrereached him, in some transaction or other; for every knave, kennin' him to be a simpleton, (a nosey-wax, as my mother said,) always laid their snares to entrap Roger Middlemiss—and his family were the sufferers. He had been a manufacturer in Langholm for many a long year, and at his death he left four brothers, a sister and mysel', four hundred pounds each. Be it remembered, however, that his faither before him left him near to three thousand, and that was an uncommon fortune in those days, a fortune I may say that my faither might have made his bairns dukes by. Had he no been a simple man, his family might have said that they wouldna ca' the Duke o' Buccleuch their cousin. But he was simple—simplicity's sel'—(as my mother told him weel about it)—and he didna leave his bairns sae meikle to divide among them, as he had inherited from their grandfaither. Yet, if, notwithstanding his opportunities to make a fortune, he did not even leave us even what he had got, he at least left us his simpleness unimpaired. My brothers were honest men—owre honest, I am sorry to say, for the every-day transactions of this world—but they always followed the obliging path, and kept their face in a direction, which, if they had had foresight enough to see it, was sure to land them in, or on,(just as ye like to take the expression,) their native parish. Now, this is a longing after the place o' one's birth for which I have no ambition; but on the parish it did land my brothers. My sister, too, was a poor simple thing, that married a man who had a wife living when he married her; and, after he had got every shilling that she had into his possession, he decamped and left her.

"But it is not the history of my brothers and sisters that I would tell you about, but my own. With the four hundred pounds which my faither left me, I began business as a linen manufacturer—that is, as a maister weaver, on what might be called a respectable scale. The year after I had commenced business upon my own account, and before I was two and twenty, I was taking a walk one Sunday afternoon on the Hawick road, along by Sorbie, and there I met the bonniest lassie, I think, that I had ever seen. I was so struck wi' her appearance, that I actually turned round and followed her. She was dressed in a duffel coat or pelisse, which I think country folk call a Joseph; but I followed her at a distance, through fields and owre stiles, till I saw her enter a sma' farm-house. There were some bits o' bairns, apparently hinds' bairns, sitting round a sort o' duck-dub near the stackyard.

"'Wha lives there, dearies?' says I to them, pointing wi' my finger to the farm-house.

"'Ned Thomson,' says they.

"'And wha was that bonny lassie,' asked I, 'that gaed in just the now?'

"'He! he! he!' the bairns laughed, and gaed me nae answer. So I put my question to them again, and ane o' the auldest o' them, a lassie about thirteen, said—'It was the maister's daughter, sir, the laird's bonny Jenny—if ye like, I'll gang in and tell her that a gentleman wishes to speak to her.'

"I certainly was very proud o' the bairn taking me to be a gentleman; but I couldna think o' meeting Miss Thompson, even if she should come out to see me, wi' such an introduction, for I was sure I would make a fool o' mysel'; and I said to the bit lassie—'No I thank ye, hinny; I'm obliged to ye'" and a' her little companions 'he! he! he'd!' and laughed the louder at my expense; which, had I not been a simple man, I never would have placed it in their power to do.

"So I went away, thinking on her face as if I had been looking at it in a glass a' the time; and to make a long story short, within three months, Miss Jenny Thompson and me became particularly weel acquaint. But my mother, who had none o' the simpleness that came by my faither's side o' the house, was then living; and when Jenny and I were on the eve o' being publicly cried in the kirk, she clapped her affidavit against it.

"'Nicol,' said she, 'son as ye are o' mine, ye're a poor simple goniel. There isna a bairn that I have among ye to mend another. Ye are your faither owre again, every one o' ye—each one more simple than another. Will ye marry a taupie that has nae recommendation but a doll's face, and bring shame and sorrow to your door?'

"I flew into a rampaging passion wi' my mother, for levelling Jenny to either shame or sorrow: but she maintained that married we should not be, if she could prevent it; and she certainly said and did everything that lay in her power to render me jealous. She might as weel have lectured to a whinstane rock. I believed Jenny to be as pure as the dew that falleth upon a lily before sunrise in May. But on the very night before we were to be married, and when I went to fit on the gloves and the ring—to my horror and inexpressible surprise, who should I see in the farm-yard, (for it was a fine star-light night,) but my Jenny—my thrice cried bride—wi' her hand upon the shouther o' the auldest son o' her faither's laird, and his arm round her waist. My first impulse was to run into the stackyard where they were, and to knock him down; but he was a strong lad, and, thinks I, 'second thoughts are best.' I was resolved, however, that my mother should find I wasna such a simpleton as she gied me out to be—so I turned round upon my heel and went home saying to mysel, as the song says—

When I went hame, and informed her o' what I had seen, and o' what I had dune, the auld woman clapped me upon the shouther, and says she—'Nicholas, my man, I am glad that yer ain een have been made a witness in the matter of which your mother forewarned ye. Ye was about to bring disgrace upon your family; but I trust ye have seen enough to be a warning to ye. O Nicholas! they that marry a wife merely for the sake o' a bonny face, or for being a smart dancer, or onything o' that kind, never repent it but once, and that is for ever. Marriage lad, lifts the veil from the face o' beauty, and causes it to be looked upon as an every-day thing; and even if ye were short-sighted before, marriage will make ye see through spectacles that will suit your sight, whither ye will or no. Dinna think that I am against ye taking a wife; for I ken it is the best thing that a young man can do. Had your faither not married me when he did, he would hae died a beggar, instead o' leaving ye what he did. And especially a simple creature like you, Nicholas, needs one to take care o' him. But you must not expect to meet wi' such a one in every bonny face, handsome waist, or smart ancle that ye meet wi'. Na, na, lad; ye maun look to the heart, and the disposition or temper, and the affection for you. They are the grand points that ye are to study; and not the beauty o' the face, the shape o' the waist, (which a mantua-maker has a principal hand in making,) the colour o' the een, or the texture o' the hair. Thae are things that are forgotten before ye hae been married a twalmonth; but the feelings o' the heart, and the sentiments o' the soul, aye rin pure, Nicholas, and grow stronger and stronger, just like a bit burn oozing frae a hill, and wimpling down its side, waxing larger and larger, and gathering strength on strength as it runs, until it meets the sea, like a great river; and even so it is wi' the affections o' the heart between man and wife, where they really love and understand each other; for they begin wi' the bit spring o' courtship, following the same course, gathering strength, and flowing side by side, until they fall into the ocean o' eternity, as a united river that cannot be divided! Na, son, if ye will take a wife, I hope ye hae seen enough to convince ye that she ought never to be the bonny Miss Thompson. But if I might advise ye in the matter, there is our own servant, Nancy Bowmaker, a young lass, a weel-faured lass, and as weel behaved as she is good-looking. She has lived wi' us, now, for four years, and from term to term I never have had to quarrel her. I never saw her encouraging lads about the house—I never missed the value o' a prin since she came to it—I never even saw her light a candle at the fire, or keep the cruisy burning when she had naething to do but to spin, or to knit. Now, Nicholas, if ye will be looking after a wife, I say that ye canna do better than just draw up wi' Nancy Bowmaker.'

"So my mother ended her long-winded harangue; which I had hardly patience to listen to. In the course o' the week, the faither and brothers o' Miss Jenny Thompson called upon me, to see why I had not fulfilled my engagement, by taking her before the minister, and declaring her to be my wife. I stood before them like a man touched wi' a flash o' lightning—pale as death and trembling like a leaf. But, when they began to talk big owre me, and to threaten me wi' bringing the terrors o' the law upon my head—(and be it remembered I have an exceeding horror o' the law, and would rather lose a pound ony day, than spend six and eightpence, which is the least ye can spend on it)—as good luck would have it, while they were stamping their feet, and shaking their nieves in my face, my mother came forward to where we were standing, and says she to me—'Nicholas, what is a' this about? What does Mr Thompson and his sons want?'

"The very sound o' her voice inspired me; I regained my strength and my courage, as the eagle renews its age. And, simple man as I was—'Sir,' said I, 'what is it that ye mean? Gae ask your daughter wha it was that had his arm round her waist on Thursday night last, and her hand upon his shouther! Go to him to marry her!—but dinna hae the audacity to look me in the face.'

"'Weel said, Nicol,' whispered my mother, coming behint me, and clapping me on the back; 'aye act in that manner, my man.'

"And both her faithers and her brothers stood looking one to another for an answer, and slunk away without saying another word either about the law or our marriage. I found I had gotten the whip hand o' them most completely. So, there never was another word between me and bonny Jenny Thompson, who, within a month, ran away wi' the son o' her faither's laird—and, poor hizzy, I am sorry to say, her end wasna a good one.

"My mother, however, always kept teasing me about Nancy Bowmaker, and saying what a notable wife she would make. Now, some folk are foolish enough to say that they couldna like onybody that was in a manner forced upon them. And, nae doubt, if either a faither or a mother, or onybody else that has power owre ye, says—'Like such a one,' it is not in your power to comply, and actually love the person in obedience to a command. Yet this I will say, that my mother's sermons to me about Nancy Bowmaker, and my being always evened to her upon that account, caused me to think more about her than I did concerning ony other woman under the sun. And ye canna think lang about ony lass in particular, without beginning to have a sort o' regard for her, as it were. In short, I began to find that I liked Nancy just as weel as I had done Jenny; we, therefore, were married, and a most excellent and affectionate wife she has been to me, even to this day.

"It was now that I began the world in good earnest. But though my wife was an active woman, I was still the same simple, easy-imposed-upon sort o' being that I had always been. Every rogue in the country-side very soon became acquainted wi' my disposition. I had no reason to complain of my business; for orders poured in upon me faster than I was able to supply them. Only, somehow or other—and I thought it very strange—money didna come in so fast as the orders. My wife said to me—'This trade will never do, Nicholas—ye will gang on trust, trusting, until ye trust yoursel' to the door. Therefore, do as I advise ye, and look after the siller.'

"'O my dear,' said I, 'they are good customers, and I canna offend them for the sake o' a few pounds. I have no doubt but they are safe enough.

"'Safe or no safe,' quoth she, 'get ye your accounts settled. Their siller will do as meikle for ye as their custom. Take a woman's advice for once, and remember, that, 'short accounts make long friends.' Look ye after your money.'

"I couldna but confess that there was a great deal o' truth in what Mrs Middlemiss (that is my wife) said to me. But I had not her turn for doing things. I could not be so sharp wi' folk, had it been to save my life. I never could affront onybody in my days. Yet I often wished that I could take her advice; for I saw people getting deeper and deeper into my books, without the prospect o' payment being made more manifest. Under such circumstances I began to think wi' her, that their siller would be as good as their custom—the one was not much worth without the other.

"But, just to give ye a few instances o' my simplicity:—I was walking, on a summer evening, as my custom was, about a mile out o' the town, when I overtook a Mr Swanston, a very respectable sort o' man, a neighbour, and an auld acquaintance, who appeared to be in very great tribulation. I think, indeed, that I never saw a fellow-creature in such visible distress. His countenance was perfectly wofu', and he was wringing his hands like a body dementit.

"'Preserve us, Mr Swanston!' says I, 'what's the matter wi' ye?—has onything happened?'

"'Oh! happened!' said he; 'I'm a ruined man!—I wish that I had never been born!—that I had never drawn breath in this world o' villany! I believe I'll do some ill to mysel'.'

"'Dear me, Mr Swanston!' quoth I, 'I'm sorry to hear ye talk so. It is very unchristian-like to hear a body talking o' doing harm to theirsels. There is a poet, (Dr Young, if I mistake not,) that says—

'Self-murder! name it not, our island's shame!'

Now, I dinna like to hear ye talking in such a way; and though I have no wish to be inquisitive, I would just beg to ask what it is upon your mind that is making ye unhappy?'

"'Oh, Mr Middlemiss,' said he, 'it is o' no use telling ye o't, for I believe that sympathy has left this world, as weel as honesty.'

"'Ye're no very sure o' that, neighbour,' says I; 'and I dinna think that ye do mysel' and other people justice.'

"'Maybe not, sir,' said he; 'but is it not a hard case, that, after I have carried on business for more than twenty years, honestly and in credit wi' all the world, that I should have to stop my business to-morrow, for the want o' three hundred pounds?'

"'It certainly is,' said I, 'a very hard case; but, dear me, Mr Swanston, I always thought that ye would be worth twenty shillings in the pound.'

"'So I am,' said he; 'I am worth twice twenty, if my things should be put up at their real value; but at present I canna command the ready money—and there is where the rock lies that I am to be wrecked upon.'

"'Assuredly,' returned I, 'three hundred pounds are no bauble. It requires a person to turn owre a number o' shillings to make them up. But I would think that, you having been so long in business, and always having borne an irreproachable character, it would be quite a possible thing for you to raise the money amongst your friends.'

"'Sir,' said he, 'I wouldna require them to raise the money, nor ever to advance or pay a farthing upon my account; all that I require is, that some sponsible person, such as yourself, would put their name to a bill for six months. There would be nothing but the signing o' the name required o' them; and if you, sir, would so far oblige me, ye will save a neighbour from ruin.'

"I thought there was something very reasonable in what he said, and that it would be a grand thing if by the mere signing o' my name, I could save a fellow-creature and auld acquaintance from ruin, or from raising his hand against his own life. Indeed, I always felt a particular pleasure in doing a good turn to onybody. I therefore said to him—

'Weel, Mr Swanston, I have no objections to sign my name, if, as you say, that be all that is in it, and if my doing so will be of service to you.'

"He grasped hold o' my hand wi' both o' his, and he squeezed it until I thought he would have caused the blood to start from my finger ends.

"'Mr Middlemiss,' said he, 'I shall never be able to repay you for this act o' kindness. I will feel it in my heart the longest day I have to live.'

"I was struck with his agitation; in fact, I was very much put about. For even a tear upon the face o' a woman distresses me beyond the power o' words to describe; but to see the salt water on the cheeks of a man indicates that there is something dreadfully ill at ease about the heart. And really the tears ran down his face as if he had been a truant school-laddie that had been chastised by his master.

"'There is no occasion for thanks, Mr Swanston,' said I—'none in the world; for the man would be worse than a heathen, that wouldna be ready to do ten times more.'

"Weel, he grasped my hand the harder, and he shook it more fervently, saying—'O, sir! sir!—a friend in need is a friend indeed; and such ye have proved to be—and I shall remember it.'

"That very night we went to a public-house, and we had two half-mutchkins together; in the course of drinking which, he got out a stamped paper, and after writing something on it, which I was hardly in a condition to read, (for my head can stand very little,) he handed it to me, and pointed with his finger where I was to put my name upon the back o't. So I took the pen and wrote my name—after which, we had a parting gill, and were both very comfortable.

"When I went home, Nancy perceiving me to be rather sprung, and my een no as they ought to be, said to me—'Where have you been, Nicholas, until this time o' nicht?'

"'Touts!' said, I, 'what need ye mind? It is a hard maiter that a body canna stir out owre the door but ye maun ask—'where hae ye been?' I'm my own maister, I suppose—at least after business hours.'

"'No doubt o' that, Nicholas,' said she; 'but while ye are your own maister, ye are also my husband, and the faither o' my family, and it behoves me to look after ye.'

"'Look after yoursel'!' said I, quite pettedly—'for I am always very high and independent when I take a glass extra—ye wouldna tak me to be a simple man then.'

"'There is no use in throwing yoursel' into a rage, added she; 'for ye ken as weel as me, Nicholas, that ye never take a glass more than ye ought to do, but ye invariably make a fool o' yoursel' by what ye say or do, and somebody or ither imposes on ye. And ye are so vexed with yoursel' the next day, that there is nae living in the house wi' ye. Ye wreak a' the shame and ill-nature that ye feel on account o' your conduct upon us.'

"'Nancy!' cried I, striking my hand upon the table, as though I had been an emperor, 'what in the name o' wonder do ye mean? Who imposes upon me?—who dare?—tell me that!—I say tell me that?' And I struck my hand upon the table again.

"'Owre mony impose upon ye, my man,' quoth she; 'and I hope naebody has been doing it the night, for I never saw ye come hame in this key, but that somebody had got ye to do something that ye was to repent afterwards.'

"'Confound ye, Nancy!' cried I, very importantly whipping up the tails o' my coat in a passion, and turning my back to the fire, while I gied a sort o' stagger, and my head knocked against the chimley piece—'confound ye, Nancy, I say, what do ye mean? Simple man as ye ca' me, and as ye tak me to be, do ye think that I am to come home to get naething but a dish o' tongues from you! Bring me my supper.'

"'Oh, certainly, ye shall have your supper,' said she, 'if ye can eat it—only I think that your bed is the fittest place for ye. O man,' added she in a lower tone, half speaking to hersel, 'but ye'll be sorry for this the morn.'

"'What the mischief are ye muttering at?' cried I—'get me my supper.'

"'Oh, ye shall have that,' said she very calmly, for she was, and is, a quiet woman, and one that would put up with a great deal, rather than allow her voice to be heard by her neighbours.

"My head was in a queer state the next day; for ye see I had as good as five glasses, and I never could properly stand above two. I was quite ashamed to look my wife in the face, and I was so certain that I had been guilty o' some absurdity or other, that my cheeks burned just under the dread o' its being mentioned to me. Neither could I drive the idea of having put my name upon the back of the bill from my mind. I was conscious that I had done wrong. Yet, thought I, Mr Swanston is a very decent man; he is a very respectable man; he has always borne an excellent character; and is considered a good man, both amongst men o' business and in society—therefore, I have nothing to apprehend. I, according to his own confession, did him a good turn, and I could in no way implicate myself in his transactions by merely putting my name upon the back o' a bit o' paper, to oblige him. So I thought within myself, and I became perfectly satisfied that I had done a good action, without in the slightest degree injuring my family.

"But just exactly six months and three days afterwards, a clerk belonging to a branch o' the Commercial Bank called upon me, and, after making his bow, said he—'Mr Middlemiss, I have a bill to present to you.'

"'A bill!' said I, 'what sort o' a bill, sir? Is it an auctioneer's, for a roup o' furniture or a sale o' stock?'

"He laughed quite good-natured like in my face, and pulling out the bit stamped paper that I had been madman enough to sign my name upon the back o'—'It is that, sir,' said he.

"'That!' cried I; 'what in the earthly globe have I to do wi' that? It is Mr Swanston's business—not mine. I only put my name upon the back o't to oblige him. Why do ye bring it to me?'

"'You are responsible, sir,' said the clerk.

"'Responsible! the meikle mischief!' I exclaimed; 'what am I responsible for, sir?—I only put my name doun to oblige him, I tell ye! For what am I responsible?'

"'For three hundred pounds, and legal interest for six months,' said my unwelcome visiter, wi' a face that shewed as little concern for the calamity in which, through mere simplicity and goodness of heart, I was involved, as if he had ordered me to take a pipe, and blow three hundred soap-bubbles!

"'Oh! lack-o'-me!' cried I, 'is that possible? Is Mr Swanston sic a villain? I am ruined—I am clean ruined. Who in all the world will tell Nancy?'

"But that I found was a question that I did not need to ask; for she kenned almost as soon as I did mysel'.

"I need not say that I had the three hundred pounds, ineerest and all, plack and farthing, to pay; though, by my folly and simplicity, I had brought my wife and family to the verge o' ruin, she never was the woman to fling my silly conduct in my teeth; and all that she ever did say to me upon the subject, was—'Weel, Nicholas, this is the first o' your bill transactions, or o' your being caution for onybody, and I trust it has proved such a lesson as I hope ye will never need another.'

"'O Nancy, woman!' cried I, 'dinna speak to me! for I could knock my brains oot! I am the greatest simpleton upon the face o' the earth.'

"Now, that was one instance o' my simple conduct and its consequences, and I will just relate to you another or two. I had bought some ninety pounds worth o' flax from a merchant in Glasgow, for which I was to receive six months' credit. Weel, he came round for his money at the appointed time, and I paid him accordingly, and got a line off his hand in acknowledgment. On that very day, and just about an hour after he had left, Nancy says to me—'Nicholas, I dinna owre and aboon like that man that ye hae been dealing wi' the day. He has owre muckle gab, and scraping, and bowing for me. I wish he may be honest. Have ye got a receipt from him?'

"'Certainly,' says I; 'do ye think I would pay onybody money without one?'

"'And I hope it is on a stamp,' said she.

"'A stamp!' quoth I—'a stamp!—hoots, woman! I wonder to see ye so suspicious. Ye dinna tak a' the world to be rogues?'

"'No,' said she, 'I do not, and I should be sorry if I did; but if ye hae taken a receipt from him without a stamp, ye are a simple man—that is all that I say.'

'A simple man!' cried I; 'gracious! what does the woman mean? Ye are for ever saying that I am simple this, and simple that! I wish that ye would explain yoursel, and say what ye wish to be after! Where, or how am I simple?'

"'It's not been one lesson that you've had, Nicholas,' said she, 'nor ten, nor twenty either, but it is every week, I may say every day, wi' ye. There is perpetually some person or another showing ye that the 'simple man is the beggar's brother,' and ye canna see it, or ye winna regard it. But ye will, perhaps, be brought to think on't, when neither your bairns nor me have a stool to sit upon.'

"'Woman!' exclaimed I, 'flesh and blood cannot stand your tongue! Ye would exasperate the patience o' Job! What is it that ye wish to be after?—what would ye have me to do?'

"'Oh, it is o' nae use getting into a passion about it,' said she, 'for that winna mend the matter. But there is only this in it, Nicholas: I would have ye to be as sharp in your dealings in the world, as ye are wi' me when I happen to speak a word to ye for your good.'

"There was so much truth in what she said, and she always spoke in such a calm, good-natured manner that it was impossible to continue to be in a passion wi' her. So I said no more about the subject; but I thought to mysel', that, as I knew very little about the man I had dealt with, it would hae been quite as safe to have had the receipt upon a stamp.

"A few months afterwards, I saw his name amongst the list o' bankrupts; and to my very great astonishment, I received a letter from a writer, demanding payment from me o' the ninety pounds for the flax which I had already paid.

"'The thing is unreasonable a'thegither,' said I; 'here is a man that hasna paid once himself, and he would come upon me to pay twice! But I'll see him far enough first!'

"I paid no attention to the letter, and I was summoned to appear before the writer, and three men that were called the trustees to the bankrupt's estate. (Dear kens where the estate lay.)

"'Sir,' said they to me, as haughtily as if I had been a criminal before them; 'wherefore do ye refuse to pay the ninety pounds?'

"'For the best o' a' reasons, gentlemen,' said I, very civilly; 'and that simply is, because I have paid it already.'

"'What proof can you show for that!' asked the writer.

"'Proof, sir,' said I—'here is a line off the man's own hand, acknowledging the payment o' every farthing o' the money.'

"'Let me look at it,' says he.

"So, as honesty never needs to be feared for what it does, I handed him the bit paper. But after looking at it for a moment, he held it up between his finger and thumb, and wi' a kind o' sarcastic laugh, inquired—'Where is the stamp?'

"The sweat broke ower me from head to foot. 'Sir, my wife, Nancy! Is that document, in the handwriting o' the man himsel', not proof positive that I have paid the money?'

"The writer shook his head; and a gentleman that was standing near me, and who was very probably in a similar predicament to myself, said—'Unstamped receipts, sir, may do very well, where ye find a world o' purely honest men—but they winna do where ye arena sure but ye may be dealing wi' a rogue.'

"'Gentlemen!' cried I, 'have ye really the cruelty and injustice to say that I am to pay that money owre again?'

"'Owre again or not owre again,' said the writer, 'ye must pay it, otherwise summary proceedings will be entered against ye. If ye have already paid it in the way ye say, it is only making good the proverb, that the 'simple man is the beggar's brother.'"

"'Oh, confound ye!' cried I, 'for a parcel o' unprincipled knaves—that is exactly what my wife says; and had I followed her advice, I would ne'er hae seen ane o' yer faces.'

"However, the ninety pounds I had to pay again, doun upon the nail; and that was another o' the beautiful effects o' my simplicity. I didna ken how, in the universal globe, I was to muster courage to look my wife in the face again. Yet all that she said was—'O Nicholas! Nicholas!—would ye only be less simple!'

"'Heigho!' said I, 'dinna talk about it, Nancy—I'm owre grieved as it is—I can stand no more!'

"The loss o' the three hundred pounds, wi' the bill business, and the ninety just mentioned, made me to stagger, and those that knew about the circumstances wondered how I stood them. But I had just begun a new concern, which was the manufacture o' table-cloths upon a new principle, and with exceedingly splendid patterns. I got an extraordinary sale for them, and orders came pouring in upon me. But I had to employ more men to fulfil them, and their wages were to pay every Saturday, while the remittances did not come in by half so regular as the orders, and I found it was not easy to pay men without receiving money for their work. Had I been a man o' a great capital, the case might have been different. There was one day, however, that a gentleman that had dealt wi' me very extensively called upon me, and he gied me a very excellent order. But, although he had seen a great deal o' my goods, I never had seen the shadow o' his cash. I canna say that I exactly liked his manner o' doing business; yet I couldna, for the breath that was in my body, have the face to say an impertinent thing to ony one, and I was just telling him that his order should be attended to, when my wife, who was sitting in a room off the parlour, gave a tap upon the door, and, asking the gentleman to excuse me for a minute, I stepped ben, and I half whispered to her—'What is it, dear?'

"'Has that man spoken about paying ye?' said she.

"'No,' said I.

"'But I think it is time he was,' quoth she, 'before ye trust him ony farther. Remember that ye have men's wages to pay, and accounts to pay, and a wife and family to support, and those things canna be done upon nothing.'

"'Very true, dearie,' said I; 'but ye wouldna have me to speak abruptly to the gentleman, or to affront him?'

"'It will affront no gentleman,' replied she—'at least, no honest man—to ask him for what is your own. Therefore, ask him for your money. Remember, Nicholas, that the simple man is the beggar's brother.'

"'O dear, woman!' says I, 'ye ken I dinna like to hear thae words. I'll ask the gentleman to pay me—to be sure I will; and what is the use o' your keeping tease, teasing at a body, just as if I were a simpleton.'

"So I slipped back to the customer, and, after a few words about his order, I said to him—'Sir, ye understand I have men's wages to pay, and accounts to pay, and a wife and family to support, and it's no little that does it; therefore, if ye could just oblige me wi' the settlement o' your account, it would be a favour.'

"'My dear Mr Middlemiss,' said he, 'I am extremely sorry that you did not inform me that you were in want of cash sooner, as I have just, before I saw you, parted with all I can spare. But, if you be very much in want of it, I can give you a note, that is, a bill for the money, at three or six months. You can get it cashed, you know, and it is only minus the discount, and that is not much upon your profits, eh?'

"'Begging your pardon, sir,' says I, 'but I take I would have my name to write on the back o't.'

"'Certainly, sir,' said he, 'you know that follows as a matter of course.'

"'Yes, sir,' continued I, 'and I have found that it sometimes follows also as a matter o' coercion! I never had to do wi' what ye call a bill in my life but once, which was merely writing my name upon the back o't, and that cost me three hundred pounds—exactly sixteen pounds, two shillings and threepence, and a fraction, for every letter in the name of Nicholas Middlemiss, as my wife has often told me. Therefore, sir, I would never wish to see the face o' a bill again; or, I should say, the back o' one.'

"'But, my good sir,' said the gentleman, 'I have told you that it is not convenient for me to give you the cash just now; and, if you won't take my bill, why, what do you wish me to do? Do you intend to affront me? Do you suppose I have nothing to attend to but your account?'

"'Oh, by no means, sir,' said I; 'and it would be the last thing in my thoughts either to offend you or ony man. If ye have not the money at command, I suppose I must take the bill; for I know that cash down is a sort o' curiosity, as I sometimes say, and is very difficult to be met wi'.'

"While we were conversing thegither, I heard my wife gie a tap, tap, tap, twice or thrice upon the parlour door, and I was convinced that she owreheard us; but I didna take the least notice o' it, for I felt conscious that it would only be to ring the auld sang in my ears, about the simple man. So I took the gentleman's bill at six months; and immediately after he left me, Nancy came into the parlour.

"'Weel,' said she, 'ye've gotten your money.' But she said it wi' a scornful air, such as I had never seen her use before, and which caused me to feel excessively uncomfortable.

"'Yes, I've got my money,' says I, 'but, dear me, Nancy, what business is it o' yours whether I have got my money or no?'

"'If it isna my business, Nicholas,' said she, 'I would like to ken whase business it is? I am the wife o' your bosom—the mother o' your family—am I not? Guidman, ye may take ill what I say to ye, but it is meant for your good. Now, ye hae ta'en the bill o' the man that has just left ye, for four hundred and odd pounds! What do ye ken aboot him? Naething!—naething in the blessed world! Ye are a simple man, Nicholas!'

"'Dinna say that,' said I; 'I am not simple. I told him to his face that I didna like his bills. But ye are like a' women—ye would do wonders if ye were men! But his bill prevents a' disputes about his account—do ye not see that—and I can cash it if I wish.'

"'Very true,' said she, 'ye can cash it, Nicholas, but upon your own credit, and at your own risk.'

"'Risk!' said I, 'the woman's a fool to talk in such a manner about an every-day transaction.'

"'Weel,' answered she, 'not to say that there is the slightest risk in the matter, have ye considered, that, if ye do cash this bill, there will be a heavy discount to pay, and if ye pay it, what is to become o' your profits? Did ye tell him, that if ye took his bill ye would carry the discount to his next account?'

"'O Nancy! Nancy!' cried I, 'ye would skin the wind! Just take yoursel' away, if ye please; for really ye're tormenting me—making a perfect gowk o' me, for neither end nor purpose.'

"'Oh, if that be the way,' said she, 'I can leave ye—but I have seen the day when ye thought otherwise o' my company. Yet, the more I see o' your transactions, Nicholas, the more I am convinced in the truth o' the saying, that the simple man is the beggar's brother.'

"'Sorrow take ye, wife!' cried I, 'will ye really come owre thae words again. Are ye not aware that I detest and abhor them? Have I not said that to ye again and again?—and yet ye will repeat them in my hearing? Do ye wish to drive me mad?'

"'I would wish to see ye act,' answered she, 'so that I would ne'er need to use them again.' And, on saying that, she went out o' the room, which to me was a great deliverance.

"I got the bill cashed, and, to tell ye the plain truth, I also had it to pay. This was a dreadfu' loss to me; and I found there was naething left for me but so sit down,(if ye understand what that means,) as mony a guid man has been compelled to do. Hooever, I paid every body seventeen shillings and sixpence half-penny in the pound. Some of my creditors said it was owre meikle—that I had been simple and wronged mysel'.

"'I would wish to the utmost o' my power to be honest,' said I; 'and if I hae wronged mysel', I hae saved my conscience. If there be naething else left for me noo, as Burns says—

'Heaven be thankit! I can beg.'

"My business, hooever, had been entirely at a stand for the space o' sax weeks. I had neither journeyman nor apprentice left. My looms, and the hale apparatus connected wi' the concern, had been sold off, and I had naething in the world but a few articles o' furniture, which a freend bought back for me at the sale. I got the loan o' a loom, and in order to support my wife and family, I had to sit down to drive the shuttle again. I had wrought nane to speak o' for ten years before, and my hands were quite oot o' use. I made but a puir job o' it. The first week I didna mak aboon half-a-crown; and that was but a sma' sum for the support o' a wife and half-a-dozen hungry bairns. Hooever, I was still as simple as ever; and there wasna a wife in the countryside that was a bad payer, but brought her web to Nicholas Middlemiss. I wrought late and early; but though I did my utmost, I couldna keep my bairns' teeth gaun. Many a time it has wrung my heart, when I hae heard them crying to their mother, clinging round her, and pulling at her apron, saying—'Mother, gie's a piece!—Oh just a wee bite, mother!'

"'O my darlings,' she used to say to them, 'dinna ask me for bread the noo. I haena a morsel in the house, and hae na siller to buy meal. But yer faither is aboot finished wi' the web, and ye shall hae plenty the nicht.'

"Then the bits o' dear creatures would hae come runnin' ben to me, and asked—'Faither, when will the web be ready?'

"'Soon, soon, hinnies!' said I, half choked wi' grief and blind wi' tears; 'haud awa' oot and play yoursels!'

"For I couldna stand to see them yearning afore me, and to behold want, like a gnawing worm, eating the flesh from their lovely cheeks. Then, when I had went out wi' the web, Nancy would say to me—'Noo, Nicholas, remember the situation we're in. There's neither food o' ae description nor anither in the house, and ye see the last o' oor coals upon the fire. Therefore, afore ye leave the web, see that ye get the money for the working o't.'

"Yet, scores o' times, even after such admonitions, hae I come hame without a penny in my pocket. Ane put me aff with ae excuse, and anither wi' anither. Some were to ca' and pay me on the Saturday, and others when they killed their pig. But those Saturdays seldom came; and, in my belief, the pigs are living yet. It used to put me in terror to meet my poor starving family. The consequence generally was, that Nancy had to go to where I had come frae and request payment hersel'; and, at last, she wadna trust me wi' the taking hame o' the webs.

"We suffered more than I'm willing to tell aboot, at the period I mention, and a' arose oot o' my simpleness. But I was confined to my bed for ten weeks, wi' a dreadfu' attack o' rheumatism—it was what was ca'ed a rheumatic fever—it reduced me to a perfect anatomy. I was as feckless as a half-burned thread. Through fatigue, anxiety, and want o' support thegither, Nancy also took very ill; and there did we lie to a' appearance hastening to the grave. What we suffered, and what our family suffered upon this occasion, no person in a Christian country could believe. But for the kindness o' the minister, and some o' oor neebors, we must a' hae perished. As a matter of course we fell sadly back; and when the house rent became due, we had not wherewith to pay it. The landlord distrained us for it. A second time the few things I had left were put under the hammer o' the auctioneer. 'Oh!' said I, 'surely misery and I were born thegither!' For we had twa dochters, the auldest only gaun six, baith lying ill o' the scarlet fever in the same bed, and I had to suffer the agony o' beholding the bed sold out from under them. It was more than human nature could endure. The poor, dear lammies cried—'Faither! mither! dinna let them touch us!' I took the auldest up in my arms, and begged that I micht be allowed a blanket to row her in. Nancy took up the youngest one, and while the sale went on, with our dying bairns in our arms, we sat down in the street before the door, as twa beggars—but we were not begging.

"Our case excited universal commiseration. A number o' respectable people began to take an interest in our weelfare; and business came so thick upon me that I had to get twa other looms, and found constant employment, not only for my auldest laddie, whom I was bringing up to the business, but also for a journeyman.

"Just as I was beginning to prosper, hooever, and to get my head aboon the water, there was ane o' my auld creditors to whom I had paid the composition of seventeen and sixpence halfpenny in the pound, wha was a hard-hearted, avaricious sort o' man, and to whom I had promised, and not only promised, but given a written pledge, to pay him the remaining two and fivepence halfpenny in the pound, together with interest, in the course of six years. The time was just expiring, when he came to me, and presenting the bit paper, which was in my own handwriting, demanded payment.

"'Really, sir,' said I, 'I acknowledge that I must pay ye, though everybody said at the time that I was a very simple man for entering into ony such agreement wi' ye; but it is not in my power to pay ye just now. In the course o' a twalmonth I hope to be able to do it.'

"'Mr Middlemiss,' said he, as slowly as if he were spelling my name, 'my money I want, and my money I will have; and have it immediately, too.'

"'Sir,' said I, 'the thing is impossible; I canna gie ye what I haena got.'

"'I dinna care for that,' said he; 'if I dinna get it, I shall get you.'

"He had the cruelty to throw me into jail, just as I was beginning to gather my feet. It knocked all my prospects in the head again. I began to say it was o' nae use for me to strive, for the stream o' fate was against me.'

"'Dinna say so, Nicholas,' said Nancy, who came on foot twice every week, a' the way from Langholm, to see me—'dinna say sae. Yer ain simplicity is against ye—naething else.'

"Weel, the debt was paid, and I got my liberty. But, come weel, come woe, I was still simple Nicol Middlemiss. Ne'er hae I been able to get the better o' my easy disposition. It has made me acquainted wi' misery—it has kept me constantly in the company o' poverty; and, when I'm dead, if onybody erect a gravestane for me, they may inscribe owre it—

"The Simple Man is the Beggar's Brother."