Sir Gibbie Ch 11 Featured Book Tale Teller Kids Reading Age 15 #greatbooks #classics #teens

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Episode Transcript

Speaker 1 (00:00):
Chapter eleven of Sir Gibby. This is a LibriVox recording.
All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more
information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox dot org. Recording
by Maggie Travers in Murphysboro, Tennessee. Sir Gibby by George
mac Donald, chapter eleven, Janet. Once away, Gibby had no

(00:25):
thought of returning up dour side was the sole propulsive
force whose existence he recognized. But when he lifted his
head from drinking at the stream, which was of some
size and greatly refreshed, looked up its channel, a longing
seized him to know whence came the water of life,
which had thus restored him to bliss. How a burn

(00:47):
first appears upon the earth. He thought it might come
from the foot of a great conical mountain, which seemed
but a little way off. He would follow it up
and see. So away he went, yielding at once, as
was his wont to the first desire that came. He
had not trotted far along the bank, However, before, at

(01:07):
a sharp turn it took, he saw that its course
was a much longer one than he had imagined, for
it turned from the mountain and led up among the
roots of other hills. While here in front of him,
direct from the mountain, as it seemed, came down a
smaller stream and tumbled noisily into this. The larger burn

(01:27):
would lead him too far from the dower, he would
follow the smaller one. He found a wide, shallow place,
crossed the larger, and went up the side of the smaller,
Doubly free after his imprisonment of the morning, Gibbey sped
joyously along. Already nature, her largeness, her openness, her loveliness,

(01:48):
her changefulness, her oneness in change, had begun to heal
the child's heart and comfort him in his disappointment with
his kind. The stream he was now ascending ran along
a claw of the mountain, which claw was covered with
almost a forest of pine, protecting the little colonies of
less hearty timber. Its heavy green was varied with the pale,

(02:10):
delicate fringes of the fresh foliage of the larches, filling
the air with aromatic breath in the midst of their
soft tufts. Each tuft buttoned with a brown spot, hung
the rich brown knobs and tassels of last year's cones.
But the trees were all on the opposite side of
the stream, and appeared to be mostly on the other

(02:31):
side of a wall where Gibbey was. The mountain root
was chiefly of rock interspersed with heather. A little way
up the stream, he came to a bridge over it,
closed at the farther end by iron gates between pillars,
each surmounted by a wolf's head and stone. Over the gate,
on each side leaned a rowan tree with trunk and

(02:55):
branches aged and gnarled amidst their fresh foliage. He crossed
the burned to look through the gate, and pressed his
face between the bars to get a better sight of
a tame rabbit that had got out of its hutch.
It sat like a druid, white with age, in the
midst of a gravel drive, much overgrown with moss, that

(03:16):
led through a young larch wood, with here and there
an ancient tree, lonely amidst the youth of its companions. Suddenly,
from the wood a large spaniel came bounding upon the rabbit.
Gibbey gave a shriek, and the rabbit made one white
flash into the wood, with a dog after him. He
turned away, sad at heart. Ilka crejat Khan. He said

(03:41):
to himself, it's ilka crecha at Kana. It was his
first generalization, but not many years passed before he supplemented
it with a conclusion. But the man at wadbah man Himana,
resuming his journey of investigation, he trotted along the bank
of the Bern, farther and farther up until he could

(04:04):
trot no more, but must go clambering over great stones,
or sinking to the knees in the bog patches of
it red with iron, from which he would turn away
with a shudder. Sometimes he walked in the water along
the bed of the burn itself. Sometimes he had to
scramble up its steep side to pass one of the
many little cataracts of its descent. Here and there a

(04:27):
small silver birch, or a mountain ash, or a stunted
fir tree looking like a wizard child hung over the stream.
Its banks were mainly of rock and heather, but now
and then a patch of cultivation intervene. Gibby had no
thought that he was gradually leaving the abodes of men
behind him. He knew no reason why in ascending things

(04:48):
should change and be no longer as in plainer ways.
For what he knew, there might be farm after farm,
up and up forever to the gates of heaven. But
it would no no longer have troubled him greatly to
leave all houses behind him for a season. A great
purple foxglove could do much now, just at this phase

(05:09):
of his story, to make him forget not the human
face divine, but the loss of it. A lark aloft
in the blue, from whose heart, as from a fountain
whose roots were lost in the air, its natural source
issued not a stream, but an ever spreading lake of song,
was now more to him the memory of any human

(05:30):
voice he had ever heard, except his father's and sambos.
But he was not quite yet out and away from
the dwellings of his kind. I may as well now
make the attempt to give some idea of Gibbey's appearance.
As he showed, after so long wondering of dress, he
had hardly enough left to carry the name shoes. Of course,

(05:52):
he had none of the shape of the trousers. That remained,
nothing except the division before and behind in the short
petticoat to which they were red. And those rudimentary divisions
were lost in the multitude of rents of equal apparent
significance he had, never, so far as he knew, had
assured upon his body. And his sole other garment was

(06:13):
a jacket so much too large for him, that to
retain the use of his hands, he had folded back
the sleeves quite to his elbows. Thus reversed, they became pockets,
the only ones he had, and in them he stowed
whatever provisions were given him of which he could not
make immediate use, porridge and sowins and mashed potatoes included.

(06:35):
They served him, in fact, like the first of the
stomachs of those animals which have more than one concerning
which animals, by the way, I should much like to
know what they were. In Pythagora's time, his head had
plentiful protection in its own natural crop, had never either
had or acquired any other that would have been of

(06:58):
the gold order, had not a great pair of its
color been sunburnt, rained and frozen out of it. All ways,
it pointed as if surcharged with electric fluid, crowning him
with a wilderness which was in amusing contrast with the
placidity of his countenance. Perhaps the resulting queerness in the
expression of the little vagrant, a look as if he

(07:20):
had been hunted till his body and soul were nearly ruffled,
asunder had already parted company in aim and interest might
have been the first thing to strike a careless observer.
But if the heart was not a careless one, the
eye would look again and discover a stronger stillness than
mere placidity, a sort of live peace abiding in that

(07:43):
weather beaten little face, under its wild crown of human herbage.
The features of it were well shaped, and not smaller
than proportioned to the small whole of his person. His eyes,
partly perhaps because they were so little flesh upon his
b were large, and in reprose, had much of a

(08:04):
soft animal expression. There was not in them the look
of you, And I know frequently too, when occasion browsed
the needful instinct, they had a sharp expression of outlook
and readiness, which, without a trace of fierceness or greed,
was yet equally animal. Only all the time there was

(08:24):
present something else beyond characterization behind them, something seemed to
lie asleep. His hands and feet were small and childishly dainty,
his whole body well shaped and well put together, of
which the style of his dress rather quashed the evidence.
Such was Gibbey to the eye as he rose from

(08:46):
dower side to the last cultivated ground on the borders
of the burn, and the highest dwelling on the mountain.
It was the abode of a cotter, and was a
dependency of the farm. He had just left the cotter.
He was an old man of seventy. His wife was
nearly sixty. They had reared stalwart sons and shapely daughters,

(09:07):
now at service here and there in the valleys below,
all ready to see God in nature and recognize Him
in providence. They belonged to a class now I fear extinct.
But once, if my love prejudiced not my judgment too
far the glory and strength of Scotland. Their little acres
are now swallowed up in the larger farms. It was

(09:30):
a very humble dwelling, built of turf upon a foundation
of stones, and roofed with turf and straw, warm and
nearly impervious to the searching airs of the mountain side.
One little window of a foot and a half square
looked out on the universe. At one end stood a
stack of peat half as big as the cottage. Itself.

(09:51):
All around it were huge rocks, some of them peaks
whose masses went down to the very central fires, others
only fragments that had rolled from above. Here and there,
a thin crop was growing in patches amongst them, the
red graystone, lifting its baldness in spots numberless through the
soft waving green. A few of the commonest flowers grew

(10:14):
about the door, but there was no garden. The doorstep
was live rock, and a huge projecting rock behind formed
the back and a portion of one of the end walls.
This latter rack had been the attraction to the site
because of a hollow in it, which now served as
a dairy for up There with them lived the last

(10:36):
cow of the valley, the cow that breathed the loftiest
air on all dour side, A good cow, and gifted
and feeding well upon little. Facing the broad south and
leaning against the hill as against the bosom of God
sheltered it from the north and east, the cottage looked
so high, humble, so still, so confident, that it drew

(10:58):
Gibbey with the spell of haark likeness. He knocked at
the old weather beaten, shrunken and bent but well patched door,
a voice alive with the soft vibrations of thought and feeling, answered, goomyerizen,
where ye be? Gibbey pulled the string that came through

(11:19):
a hole in the door, so lifting the latch, and entered.
A woman sat on a creepy her face turned over
her shoulder to see who came. It was a gray
face with good, simple features and clear gray eyes. The
plentiful hair that grew low on her forehead was half gray,
mostly covered by a white cap with frills. A clean

(11:40):
wrapper and apron, both of blueprint over a blue, winey petticoat.
Blue stockings, and strong shoes completed her dress. A book
lay on her lap always. When she had finished her
morning's work and made her house tidy, she sat down
to have her comfort, as she called it, the mum.
She saw Gibbey. She rose. Had he been the angel

(12:03):
Gabriel come to tell her she was wanted at the throne.
Her attention could not have been more immediate or thorough.
She was rather a little woman, and carried herself straight
and light. Ey, your poor raftcaste, she said, in the
pitying voice of a mother, who come, ye here sitch
is hitch creat ye ye have left the world A

(12:25):
haign ye what had ye hay? Here I had nothing,
Receiving no answer but one of the child's bewitching smiles,
she stood for a moment, regarding him, not in mere silence,
but with a look of dumbness. She was a mother.
One who is a mother only to her own children
is not a mother. She is only a woman who

(12:47):
has born children. But here was one of God's Mother's.
Loneliness and silence and constant homely familiarity with the vast
simplicities of nature assist much in the development of the
deeper and more wonderful faculties of perception. The processions themselves
may take this or that shape, according to the education,

(13:08):
may even embody themselves fantastically, yet be no less perceptions. Now.
The very moment before Gibby entered, she had been reading
the words of the Lord. Inasmuch as ye have done
it unto one of the least of these my brethren,
ye have done it unto me. And with her heart
full of them, she lifted her eyes and saw Gibby

(13:30):
for one moment, with a quick flashing response of the
childlike imagination of the celt she fancied she saw the
Lord himself, another woman might have made a more serious
mistake and seen there only a child. Often, had Janet pondered,
as she sat alone on the great mountain while Robert
was with the sheep, or she lay awake by his

(13:51):
side at night, with the wind howling about the cottage,
whether the Lord might not sometimes take a lonely walk
to look after such solitary sleep of his flock as they,
and let them know that he had not lost sight
of them. For all the ups and downs of the hills.
There stood the child. And whether he was the Lord
or not, he was evidently hungry. Ah, who could tell?

(14:14):
But the Lord was actually hungry in every one of
his hungering little ones. In the meantime only it was
but thought time, not clock time. Gebey stood motionless in
the middle of the floor, smiling his innocent smile, asking
for nothing, hinting at nothing, but resting his wild, calm
eyes with a sense of safety and mother presence upon

(14:37):
the gray, thoughtful face of the gazing woman. Her awe deepened,
it seemed to descend upon her and fold her in
as with a mantle. Involuntarily, she bowed her head, and
stepping to him, took him by the hand and led
him to the stool she had left there. She made
him sit while she brought forward her table, white with scrubbing,

(15:00):
took from a hole in the wall, and set upon
it a platter of oatcakes. Carried a wooden bowl to
her dairy in the rock through a whitewashed door, and
bringing it back, filled half with cream, half with milk,
set that also on the table. Then she placed a
chair before it and said, sit, ye don't take gin

(15:20):
Yawad lauded himself. My bunny mann an ye maybe for
au cha ken, for ye look better a desperate nuff
a cagey in the better for ritzer la hat to
offer ye cept it mishbi an egg, she added, correcting herself,
and turned and went out. Presently she came back with
a look of success, carrying two eggs, which, having raged

(15:42):
out a quantity, she buried in the hot ashes of
the peats and left in front of the hearth to roast,
while Gibbey went on eating the thick oat cake, sweet
and substantial, and drinking such milk as the wildest imagination
of town boy could never suggest it was indeed Angel's fee.
Food such as would have pleased the Lord himself after

(16:03):
a hard day with axe and solemn playing, so good
and simple and strong was it. Janet resumed her seat
on a low, three legged stool and took her knitting,
that he might feel neither that he was watched as
he ate, nor that she was waiting for him to finish.
Every other minute she gave a glance at the stranger
she had taken in, but never a word he spoke,

(16:25):
and the sense of mystery grew upon her. Presently came
a great bounce and scramble, The latch jumped up, the
door flew open, and after a moment's pause, in came
a sheep dog, a splendid Thoroughbred Collie, carrying in his
mouth a tiny, long legged lamb, which he dropped half
dead in the woman's lap. It was a late lamb

(16:47):
born of a mother, which had been sold from the hill,
but had found her way back from a great distance
in order that her coming young one might have the
privilege of being yeen on the same spot where she
had herself awakened to existence. Other moment in her umbah
was heard approaching the door, she trotted in, and going
up to Janet stood contemplating the consequences of her maternal ambition.

(17:11):
Her utter was full, but the lamb was too weak
to suck. Janet rose, and, going to the side of
the room, opened the door of what might have seemed
an old press, but was a bed. Folding back the counterpane,
she laid the lamb in the bed and covered it over.
Then she got a cop, a wooden dish like a
large saucer, and into it it melt the ewe. Next

(17:33):
she carried the cop to the bed. But what means
she there used to enable the lamp to drink? The
boy could not see, though his bushy eyes and loving
heart would gladly have taken in all. In the meantime,
the collie, having done his duty by the lamb and
perhaps forgotten it, sat on his tail and stared with

(17:54):
his two brave, trusting eyes at the little beggar that
sat in the master's chair and ate of the fat
of the land. Oscar was a gentleman and had never
gone to school. Therefore neither fancied nor had been taught
that rags make an essential distinction, and ought to be
barked at. Gibby was a stranger, and therefore as a stranger.

(18:15):
Oscar gave him welcome now, and then, stooping to lick
the little brown feet that had wondered so far. Like
all wild creatures, Gibby ate fast and had finished everything
set before him. Ere the woman had done feeding the
lamb without a notion of the rudeness of it. His
heart full of gentle gratitude, he rose and left the cottage.

(18:37):
When Janet turned from her shepherding, there sat Oscar, looking
up at the empty chair. What's come of the laddie?
She said to the dog, who answered with a low whine,
half regretful, half interrogative. It may be he was only asking,
like Esau, if there was no residuum of blessing for
him also, But perhaps he too was puzzled what to

(18:58):
conclude about the boy. Janet hastened to the door, but
already Gibbey's nimble feet were freshed to the point of
every toe with the food he had just swallowed, had
borne him far up the hill behind the cottage, so
that she could not get a glimpse of him. Thoughtfully,
she returned and thoughtfully removed the remnants of the meal.

(19:19):
She would then have resumed her bible, but her hospitality
had rendered it necessary that she should put on her girdle,
not a cinsure of leather upon her body, but a
disk of iron on the fire, to bake thereon cakes
ere her husband's return. It was a simple enough process,
for the oatmeal wanted nothing but water and fire. But

(19:40):
her joints had not yet got rid of winter's rheumatism,
and the labor of the baking was the hardest part
of the sacrifice of her hospitality. Too many it is
easy to give what they have, but the offering of
weariness and pain is never easy. They are, indeed a
true salt to salt. Sacrifices withal that it was the

(20:02):
last of her meal till her youngest boy should bring
her a bag on his back from the mill the
next Saturday, made no point in her trouble. When at
last she had done, and put the things away, and
swept up the hearth, she milked the ewe sent her
out to nibble, took her bible and sat down once
more to read. The lamb lay at her feet, and

(20:22):
with his little head projecting from the folds of her
new flannel petticoat, And every time her eye fell from
the book upon the Lamb. She felt as if somehow
the Lamb was the boy that had eaten of her
bread and drunk of her milk. After she had read Awhile,
there came a change, and the Lamb seemed the Lord himself.
Both lamb and shepherd, who had come to claim her hospitality,

(20:47):
then divinely invaded with the dread lest in the fancy
she should forget the reality. She kneeled down and prayed
to the friend of Martha and Mary and Lazarus to
come as he had said and sup with her. Indeed,
not for years and years had Janet been to church.
She had long been unable to walk so far, and

(21:07):
having no book but the best, and no help to
understand it but the Highest. Her faith was simple, strong, real,
all pervading. Day by day she pored over the Great Gospel,
I mean, just the good News according to Matthew and
Mark and Luke and John, until she had grown to
be one of the noble ladies of the Kingdom of Heaven,

(21:28):
one of those who inherit the earth in our ripening
to see God for the Master and his mind in
hers was her teacher. She had little or no theology
save what he taught her, or rather what he is,
and of any other than that, the less the better,
For no theology except the theologos, is worth the learning,

(21:52):
no other being true. To know Him is to know God.
And he only who obeys him does or can know him.
He who obeys him cannot fail to know him. To Janet,
Jesus Christ was no object of so called theological speculation,

(22:12):
but a living man who somehow or other heard her
when she called to him, and had sent her the
help she needed. End of Chapter eleven. Recording by Maggie
Travers in Murphysboro, Tennessee.