"Eh, ye cratur!" he cried; and darting to the bed, he took Gibbie's face between his hands, and said, in a voice to which pity and sympathy gave a tone like his mother's, "Whaten a deevil was't 'at lickit ye like that? Eh! I wuss I had the trimmin' o' him!"Gibbie smiled.
"Has the ill-guideship ta'en the tongue frae 'im, think ye?" asked the mother.
"Na, na," answered Donal; "he's been like that sin' ever I kenned him.I never h'ard word frae the moo' o' 'im.""He'll be ane o' the deif an' dumb," said Janet.
"He's no deif, mither; that I ken weel; but dumb he maun be, I'm thinkin'.--Cratur," he continued, stooping over the boy, "gien ye hear what I'm sayin', tak haud o' my nose."Thereupon, with a laugh like that of an amused infant, Gibbie raised his hand, and with thumb and forefinger gently pinched Donal's large nose, at which they all burst out laughing with joy.It was as if they had found an angel's baby in the bushes, and been afraid he was an idiot, but were now relieved.Away went Janet, and brought him his gruel.It was with no small difficulty and not without a moan or two, that Gibbie sat up in the bed to take it.There was something very pathetic in the full content with which he sat there in his nakedness, and looked smiling at them all.It was more than content--it was bliss that shone in his countenance.He took the wooden bowl, and began to eat; and the look he cast on Janet seemed to say he had never tasted such delicious food.Indeed he never had; and the poor cottage, where once more he was a stranger and taken in, appeared to Gibbie a place of wondrous wealth.And so it was--not only in the best treasures, those of loving kindness, but in all homely plenty as well for the needs of the body--a very temple of the God of simplicity and comfort--rich in warmth and rest and food.
Janet went to her kist, whence she brought out a garment of her own, and aired it at the fire.It had no lace at the neck or cuffs, no embroidery down the front; but when she put it on him, amid the tearful laughter of the women, and had tied it round his waist with a piece of list that had served as a garter, it made a dress most becoming in their eyes, and gave Gibbie indescribable pleasure from its whiteness, and its coolness to his inflamed skin.
They had just finished clothing him thus, when the goodman came home, and the mother's narration had to be given afresh, with Donal's notes explanatory and completive.As the latter reported the doings of the imagined brownie, and the commotion they had caused at the Mains and along Daurside, Gibbie's countenance flashed with pleasure and fun; and at last he broke into such a peal of laughter as had never, for pure merriment, been heard before so high on Glashgar.All joined involuntarily in the laugh--even the old man, who had been listening with his grey eyebrows knit, and hanging like bosky precipices over the tarns of his deepset eyes, taking in every word, but uttering not one.When at last his wife showed him the child's back, he lifted his two hands, and moved them slowly up and down, as in pitiful appeal for man against man to the sire of the race.But still he said not a word.As to utterance of what lay in the deep soul of him, the old man, except sometimes to his wife, was nearly as dumb as Gibbie himself.
They sat down to their homely meal.Simplest things will carry the result of honest attention as plainly as more elaborate dishes; and, which it might be well to consider, they will carry no more than they are worth: of Janet's supper it is enough to say that it was such as became her heart.In the judgment of all her guests, the porridge was such as none could make but mother, the milk such as none but mother's cow could yield, the cakes such as she only could bake.
Gibbie sat in the bed like a king on his throne, gazing on his kingdom.For he that loves has, as no one else has.It is the divine possession.Picture the delight of the child, in his passion for his kind, looking out upon this company of true hearts, honest faces, human forms--all strong and healthy, loving each other and generous to the taking in of the world's outcast! Gibbie could not, at that period of his history, have invented a heaven more to his mind, and as often as one of them turned eyes towards the bed, his face shone up with love and merry gratitude, like a better sun.