The monastery; The abbot.

16 WAVERLEY NOVELS.
hospital surgeon. At length, the death of an old aunt, who left me some
fifteen hundred pounds, snugly vested in the three per cents, gave me the
long-wished-for opportunity of retiring, with the prospect of enjoying a clean
shirt and a guinea four times a-week at least.
For the purpose of commencing my new way of life, I selected for my
residence the village of Kennaquhair, in the south of Scotland, celebrated'
for the ruins of its magnificent Monastery, intending there to lead my future
life in the otium curn dignitate of half-pay and annuity. I was not long,
however, in making the grand discovery, that in order to enjoy leisure, it is
absolutely necessary it should be preceded by occupation. For some time,
it was delightful to wake at daybreak, dreaming of the reveille -then to
recollect my happy emancipation from the slavery that doomed me to start
at a piece of clattering parchment, turn on my other side, damn the parade,
and go to sleep again. But even this enjoyment had its termination; and
time, when-it became a stock entirely at my own disposal, began to hang
heavy on my hand.
I angled for two days, during which time I lost twenty hooks, and several
scores of yards of gut and line, and caught not even a minnow. Hunting
was out of the question, for the stomach of a horse by no means agrees with
the half-pay establishment. When I shot, the shepherds, and ploughmen,
and my very dog, quizzed me every time that I missed, which was, generally speaking, every time I fired. Besides, the country gentlemen in this
quarter like their game, and began to talk of prosecutions and interdicts.
I did not give up fighting the French to commence a domestic war with the
" pleasant men of Teviotdale," as the song calls them; so I e'en spent three
days (very agreeably) in cleaning my gun, and disposing it upon two hooks
over my chimney-piece.
The success of this accidental experiment set me on trying my-skill in
the mechanical arts. Accordingly I took down and cleaned my landlady's
cuckoo-clock, and in so doing, silenced that companion of the spring for
ever and a day. I mounted a turning-lathe, and in attempting to use it, I
very nearly cribbed off, with an inch-and-half former, one of the fingers
which the hussar had left me.
Books I tried, both those of the little circulating library, and of the more
rational subscription collection maintained by this intellectual people. But
neither the light reading of the one, nor the heavy artillery of the other,
suited my purpose. I always fell asleep at the fourth or fifth page of history or disquisition; and it took me a month's hard reading to wade through
a half-bound trashy novel, during which I was pestered with applications
to return the volumes, by every half-bred milliner's miss about the place.
In short, during the time when all the town besides had something to do, I
had nothing for it, but to walk in the church-yard, and whistle till it was
dinner-time.
During these promenades, the ruins necessarily forced themselves on my
attention, and, by degrees, I found myself engaged in studying the more
minute ornaments, and at length the general plan, of this noble structure.
The old sexton aided my labours, and gave me his portion of traditional
lore. Every day added something to my stock of knowledge respecting
the ancient state of the building; and at length I made discoveries concerning the purpose of several detached and very ruinous portions of it, the use
of which had hitherto been either unknown altogether or erroneously explained.
The knowledge which I thus acquired I had frequent opportunities of
retailing to those visiters whom the progress of a Scottish tour brought to
visit this celebrated spot. Without encroaching on the privilege of my
friend the sexton, I became gradually an assistant Cicerone in the task of
description and explanation, and often (seeing a fresh party of visiters
arrive) has he turned over to me those to whom he had told half his story,