n' he
had'na cam' hame. It was aye supposed that the boy, becoming uneasy at
his father's lang stay, had set out to look for him, when by some
mishap, it will n'er be kenned what way, he lost his footin', an' fell
frae the end o' the narrow brig which crossed the burn. The burn was'na
large, but a heavy rain had lately fa'n, an' there was aye a deep bit at
one end o' the brig. He had fa'n head first into the water in sic a way
that he could'na possibly won 'oot. It was a clear moonlicht night, an'
when Davy reached the brig, the first thing he saw was his ain son lyin'
i' the water. I hae often been told that a sudden shock o' ony kind will
sober a drunken man. It was sae wi' Davy; for the first neebor who,
hearin' his cries for assistance, ran to the spot, found him standin i'
the middle o' the brig, perfectly sober, wi' the drooned boy in his
arms; although it was weel kenned that he was quite drunk when he left
the village. Every means was used for the recovery o' the boy, but it
was a' useless, he was quite deed an' caul'. "Ah" said Davy, when tell'd
by the doctor that the boy was indeed dead, "my punishment is greater
than I can bear." Geordie had aye been as "the apple o' his een"; never
had he been kenned to ill use the boy, even when under the influence o'
drink; and the shock was too much for his reason. Many wondered at his
calmness a' the while the body lay i' the house afore the burial; but it
was the calmness o' despair; he just seemed to me like ane turned to
stane. The first thing that roused him was the sound o' the first earth
that fell on puir Geordie's coffin. He gie'd ae bitter groan, an' wad
hae fa'n to the earth had'na a kind neebor supported him. His mind
wandered fra that hour; he was aye harmless, but the light o' reason
never cam' back to his tortured mind. Sometimes he wad sit for hours by
Geordie's grave, an' fancy that he talked wi' him. On these occasions
nothing wad induce him to leave the grave till some ither fancy
attracted his mind. As I hae before said he was never outrageous, but
seemed most o' the time, when silent, to be in deep thought; but his
reason was quite gone, and the doctors allowed that his case was beyond
cure. Many questioned them as to whether it were safe to allow him his
liberty, lest he might do some deed o' violence; but they gave it as
their opinion that his disease was'na a' ta' likely to tak' that turn
wi' him, an' so was left to wander on. He never bided verra la