CHAPTER XVII

There was talk that I micht gae to America lang before the time came.  I’d offers—­oh, aye!  But I was uncertain.  It was a tricky business, tae go sae far frae hame.  A body would be a fool to do sae unless he waur sure and siccar against loss.  All the time I was doing better and better in Britain.  And it seems that American visitors to Britain, tourists and the like, came to hear me often, and carried hame reports—­to say nothing of the scouts the American managers always have abroad.

Still, I was verra reluctant tae mak’ the journey.  I was no kennin’ what sort of a hand I’d be for an ocean voyage.  And then, I was liking my ain hame fine, and the idea of going awa’ frae it for many months was trying tae me.  It was William Morris persuaded me in the end, of course.  There’s a man would persuade a’body at a’ tae do his will.  He’ll be richt sae, often, you see, that you canna hault oot against the laddie at all.  I’m awfu’ fond o’ Wullie Morris.  He should ha’ been a Scot.

He made me great promises.  I didna believe them a’, for it seemed impossible that they could be true.  But I liked the man, and I decided that if the half of what he said was true it would be verra interesting—­verra interesting indeed.  Whiles, when you deal w’ a man and he tells you more than you think he can do, you come to distrust him altogether.  It was not so that I felt aboot Wull Morris.

It was a great time when I went off to America at last.  My friends made a great to-do aboot my going.  There were pipers to play me off—­I mind the way they skirled.  Verra soft they were playing at the end, ane of my favorite tunes—­“Will ye no come back again?” And so I went.

I was a better sailor than I micht ha’ thought.  I enjoyed the voyage.  And I’ll ne’er forget my first sicht o’ New York.  It’s e’en more wonderfu’ the noo; there’s skyscrapers they’d not dared dream of, so high they are, when I was first there.  Maybe they’ve reached the leemit now, but I hae ma doots—­I’m never thinking a Yankee has reached a leemit, for I’ve ma doots that he has ane!

I kenned fine that they’d heard o’ me in America.  Wull Morris and others had told me that.  I knew that there’d be Scots there tae bid me welcome, for the sake of the old country.  Scots are clansmen, first and last; they make much of any chance to keep the memory and the spirit of Scotland fresh in a strange land, when they are far frae hame.  And so I thought, when I saw land, that I’d be having soon a bit reception frae some fellow Scots, and it was a bonny thing to think upon, sae far frae all I’d known all my life lang.

I was no prepared at a’ for what really happened.  The Scots were oot—­ oh, aye, and they had pipers to greet me, and there were auld friends that had settled doon in New York or other parts o’ the United States, and had come to meet me.  Scots ha’ a way o’ makin’ siller when they get awa’ frae Scotland, I’m findin’ oot.  At hame the competition is fierce, sae there are some puir Scots.  But when they gang away they’ve had such training that no ithers can stand against them, and sae the Scot in a foreign place is like to be amang the leaders.