med "close-minded;" and
Danie, satisfied, in some sort, that I deserved the character, seemed to
find it a relief to roll over upon my shoulders the great weight of
confidence which, rather liberally, as would seem, for his comfort, had
been laid upon his own. It is recorded of himself by Burns, that he
"felt as much pleasure in being in the secret of half the loves of the
parish of Tarbolton, as ever did statesman in knowing the intrigues of
half the Courts of Europe." And, writing to Dr. Moore, he adds, that it
was "with difficulty" his pen was "restrained from giving him a couple
of paragraphs on the love-adventures of his compeers, the humble inmates
of the farm-house and cottage." I, on the other hand, bore my
confidences soberly enough, and kept them safe and very close--regarding
myself as merely a sort of back-yard of mind, in which Danie might store
up at pleasure the precious commodities intrusted to his charge, which,
from want of stowage, it cumbered him to keep, but which were his
property, not mine. And though, I daresay, I could still fill more than
"a couple of paragraphs" with the love-affairs of townswomen, some of
whose daughters were courted and married ten years ago, I feel no
inclination whatever, after having kept their secrets so long, to begin
blabbing them now. Danie kept a draft-board, and used to take a pride in
beating all his neighbours; but in a short time he taught me--too
palpably to his chagrin--to beat himself; and finding the game a rather
engrossing one besides, and not caring to look on the woe-begone
expression that used to cloud the meek pale face of my poor
acquaintance, every time he found his men swept off the board, or cooped
up into a corner, I gave up drafts, the only game of the kind of which I
ever knew anything, and in the course of a few years succeeded in
unlearning pretty completely all the moves. It appeared wonderful that
the processes essential to life could have been carried on in so
miserable a piece of framework as the person of poor Danie: it was
simply a human skeleton bent double, and covered with a sallow skin. But
they were not carried on in it long. About eighteen months after the
first commencement of our acquaintance, when I was many miles away, he
was seized by a sudden illness, and died in a few hours. I have seen, in
even our better works of fiction, less interesting characters portrayed
than, poor gentle-spirited Danie, the love-depository of the young