Part III.
Tom being turned to his own shifts, considers with himself how to raise a little more money, gets a long string as near as he could guess to be the length of his mother; and into Edinburgh he goes, to a wright who was acquainted with his father and mother; the wright asking him how he did? he answered him very soberly, for he had lost a good dutiful mother; last night, and there’s a measure of her coffin. The wright was surprised at the news, and lamented his loss and so fell to work on the coffin. Tom went out and stayed for some time, and then comes in again, and tells the wright he did not know what to do, for his father had ordered him to get money from such a man, which he named, and that he was that day gone out of town; the wright asked him how much he wanted? to which he answered, a guinea and a half might do, or thirty shillings at the least; so he gave him the guinea and the half: then Tom gave him strict charge to be out on the morrow against eleven o’clock with the coffin, and he should have his money altogether; Tom set out for the alehouse with the money, and lived while it lasted. Next morning the wright and his two lads goes out with the coffin; and as they were going in the house, Tom’s mother stands at the door, asking the master how he did, and where he was going with that fine coffin? he did not know well what to say, being so surprized to see her alive! but at last he told her it was made designedly for her, and that her son brought in the measure the day before, and had got a guinea and a half from him, which he said was to buy some other necessaries for the funeral. O therogue! said she has he played me that? So the wright got his guinea and half and so much for his trouble, and had to take back his coffin with him again.
Tom being now short of money again began to think how he would raise a fresh supply; so he went to the port amongst the shearers, and there hires about thirty of them, and agrees to give them a whole week’s shearing at tenpence a day, which was twopence higher than any had got that year; this made the poor shearers think he was an honest generous genteel master as ever they got, so he took them all into an alehouse, and gave them a hearty breakfast, till they could eat no more. Now says he, when there are so many of you together perhaps from different parts, and unacquainted with one another, I do not know but there may be some of you honest men and some of you rogues: and you are to lie all in one barn together, any of you who has any mony, you’ll be safest to give it to me, and I’ll mark it down in my book, with your names and what I receive from each of you and you shall have it all again on Saturday’s night when you get your wages. O! very well good man, take mine take mine, every one cried faster than another; some gave him five, six, seven and eight shillings, even all they had earned through the harvest, which amounted to near seven pounds sterling. Having got all their money, he goes on with them till about three miles out of the town, and coming to[59]a great field of standing corn, though some thing green, yet convenient for this purpose, as it lay some distance from any house or person; so he made them begin there, telling them he was going to order dinner for them, and send is own servants to join them: Away he goes with all the speed he could, but takes another road into the town, lest they should follow and catch him.
Now when the people to whom the corn belonged, saw such a band in their field, they could not understand the meaning of it; but the goodman whose corn it was, went off crying always as he run, to them to stop; but they would not, until he began to strike them, and they at him, he being in a great passion, as the corn was not fully ripe; at last, by force of argument and other peoples coming up to them, the poor shearers were convinced they had gotten the bite, which caused them to go away lamenting their misfortune.
In two or three days thereafter as Tom was going down the Canongate, he meets one of his shearers, who knew him and kept fast by him demanding his money and satisfaction for all the rest: whisht, whisht, says Tom, and you’ll get yours and something else beside. So Tom takes him into the jail,[60]and calls for a bottle of ale and a dram, then takes the jaylor aside, as if he had been to borrow the money from him: and says to the jaylor, this man here is a great thief, I and two others, have been in search of him these three days, and the other two men have the warrant with them, so if you’ll keep the rogue here till I run and bring them, you shall have a guinea in reward: yes, said the jaylor, go and I’ll fix the rogue for you. Tom gets clear out, leaving the poor innocent fellow and the jaylor straggling together, and then sets off for England directly.