HIGHLAND MARY
“Highland Mary.”
HIGHLAND
MARY
The Romance of a Poet
A
NOVEL
By
CLAYTON MACKENZIE LEGGE
Illustrated by
WILLIAM KIRKPATRICK
1906
C. M. CLARK PUBLISHING CO.
BOSTON
Copyright, 1906.
THE C. M. CLARK PUBLISHING CO.,
Boston, Mass.
Entered at
Stationer’s Hall, London.
Dramatic and all other
Rights Reserved.
TO
The Rev. Dr. Donald Sage Mackay, D.D.,
Pastor of the Collegiate Church,
New York City.
I RESPECTFULLY DEDICATE THIS BOOK
FOREWORD
With apologies to Dame History for having taken libertieswith some of her famous characters, I would ask the Reader toremember that this story is fiction and not history.
I have made use of some of the most romantic episodes in thelife of Robert Burns, such as his courtship of Mary Campbell andhis love affair with Jean Armour, “the Belle of Mauchline,” andmany of the historical references and details are authentic.
But my chief purpose in using these incidents was to make“Highland Mary” as picturesque, lovable and interesting a characterin Fiction as she has always been in the History of Scotland.
Clayton Mackenzie Legge.
HIGHLAND MARY
CHAPTER I
In the “but” or living-room (as it was termed inScotland) of a little whitewashed thatched cottagenear Auld Ayr in the land of the Doon, sat a quiet,sedate trio of persons consisting of two men and awoman. She who sat at the wheel busily engaged inspinning was the mistress of the cot, a matronly,middle-aged woman in peasant’s cap and ’kerchief.
The other two occupants of the room for yearshad been inseparable companions and cronies, andwhen not at the village inn could be found sittingby the fireside of one of their neighbors, smokingtheir pipes in blissful laziness. And all Ayrshiretolerated and even welcomed Tam O’Shanter and hiscronie, “Souter Johnny.”
Tam was an Ayrshire farmer, considered fairlywell-to-do in the neighborhood, while Souter (shoemaker)Johnny was the village cobbler, who seldom,if ever, worked at his trade nowadays. All theafternoon had they sat by the open fireplace, with itsroomy, projecting chimney, watching the peat burn,seldom speaking, smoking their old smelly pipes, andsighing contentedly as the warmth penetrated theirold bones.
Mrs. Burns glanced at her uninvited guests