Rough Scan
OUR advertizment for a gardener looked fine in the papers, and we were kind of surprised not to get any applications for the seetiation; we didn't put an address, though-it would mebbe be that. Anyway, when we had it in on the Wednesday, with all parteeclars, you would have thought half the orra men in the land had turned gardeners.
There was one that wrott, "With regards to your Adv. for a gardener, I have had two years' experence in the Bar and Cellar department of Messrs Campbell's Restaurant!" - figure that! And he ended by tellin' us that he was tired of the job, and that he would like fine to be a gardener: "Hoping for a sootable reply, etc." I dinna mind his name. There was a retired sweep too, and a good few married men with wives that milked cows, and large families, and understood hens. But, taking them bye and large, there wasna one exackly sooted to the poseetion, so Miss Celandine said we would need to try the Church Times, and she would invent the nottice herself, and not leave out the address like us. Miss Jean told her to put "unmarried," but Miss Celandine said you couldna say that in the Church Times, it would need to be "Celibate." Miss Jean dared her to say anything of the sort; she said "no children" would do fine. So Miss Celandine said she would stroke it out. But, when she copied out the nottice, if she didna forget, and here we sees in the public print, "Wanted, gardener, single-handed; celibate; no children; inside and out. Tot.abs." Miss Jean and me were fair annoyed, but Miss Celandine said anyway she had put the address; it was the only bit that was right.
The two young ladies and me went in to see the picturs in what they ca' the Royal Scottish Academy, chairge one shilling each. It's no' a school-just a place for sellin' picturs wholesale, like. There's a good few, but not near so many as what there was in the Pity Palace in Florence; they're fine and clean though, with bonny gold frames. Miss Jean bought a book for tellin' the names, and we soon fend out that it was needed. The very first pictur that attrackit our nottice was a young lady leanin' against a tree with her hand to her face, lookin' real miserable. "The Toothache," says I to mysel'. No such a thing; it was "The Millar's Daughter"; but Miss Jean said a millar's lassie might be subjeck to the toothache like other folk, and no wonder, standin' on the damp grass, at the edge of a water, and no' even a shawl about her, all in pure whites; she was bound to catch the cold.
I never saw as many picturs of animals in an exhibeetion afore. There was one lilac and brown beast, with sma' spots of red, and blue, and green strinkled over it-it was called "The Cow"; there would only be one the same, likely. Nearhand there was an awfu' starved - lookin' dog, sittin' on a seashore, eatin' a lobster; the gentleman that pented it called it a "Lioness Feeding." I dinna believe it-no' me. Then there was a flat, wee cratur hunkerin' on a stone its lee-lane, called "Frog "; and a cuddy doverin' with sleep; and horses, and Hieland stotts, hens, pigeons, etc.; it minded me of a Cattle Show. But, if you'll believe me, there wasna a single saint, except two ministers, and a young lady they ca'ed Saint Bride! Mind you, that's an awfu' drap-doun on the Italian pictur-galleries. Appearingly saints grow easier in Italy nor they do here. Saint Bride was bein' carried by two angels over the sea-waves - no' very chancy-lookin'. I doubt she was feared they would let her fa', she was that pale in the face.
It's a funny thing that folk are aye like to yawn in a pictur-gallery! Miss Ce]andine was the first to begin; she said she was needin' her tea. So away we ~vent to the Restorong, passin' through the Sculpterers' exhibeetion ong root. There we saw a sma' statute ca'ed "Loin du monde." I jaloused that it would be something conneckit with a flesher's shop, but Miss Jean said it meant, "Far from the World." A catalogue's a handy thing.
We got our teas right enough, but what a price they chairge! It's naething but daylight robbery.
Miss Celandine was for going away home without any more picturs, she said she was needin' a rest efter her tea; but Miss Jean said we would need to go through with it now we were there, so we went away ben, and took a sit-down. We landed right opposeed a bonny pictur of a young lady very dark in the skin (she would likely be a native of somewhere), sittin' hand-idle, with her elby on a cushion, and a red rose in her hair.
The last thing we saw was another lady; she was tryin' to get the hooks out of the body of her dress, and lookin' very much putten-about. It was ca'ed "Sorrow" in the catalogue, but it would have been mair sorryful if her gown had hooked up the back, so it would. I've seen folk fair mad when they couldna hook theirsels up.
We took a caxitab home.
We've got a gardener. "Mr S. Tosh," he calls hissel' in the letter, and he comes from the same village as me. I mind his faither fine; we used aye to call him "Snabbie" for a bye-name when we were bairns at the school. He's name was Samuel Tosh too; he'll be an old man now, though.