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Or Life in the Outer Hebrides by W. Anderson Smith (1875)
PREFACE
A FEW of these descriptive papers appeared originally in the Glasgow Herald. We have added an historical chapter from the best sources within our reach, but we claim no occult knowledge of the early ages.
If we have said aught to wound the susceptibilities of the “kindly Lews folk” it was far from our intention, as we have nothing but pleasant memories of the people and the land. May they all live to receive as much consideration as the deer and the grouse!
Nov., 1874.
Here's a wee taster from Chapter 1 - How we lived in the Lews...
NOW you just pour the potatoes, and see that the fish is properly done, while we put on a fresh table-cover and set the table.—“Where will I pour them?”—Outside, round the corner; look about you, and see that you pour out the water, and keep the potatoes.—“Raining,” you say! Of course it is raining! You would like to do as our native did, who poured the water down a rat’s hole in his earthen floor, to save the lazy rascal twenty steps.
Well! now put on the pot again for a minute or two, while we throw out our note-book. Our linen-chest consists of a weekly supply of Glasgow Heralds, which are quite invaluable. First, as table-covers they require no washing; next, they are most convenient note-books when any “happy thoughts” strike one under the gentle stimulus of a cup of tea, or the solace of merry memories; and also they prove an ever-present literary attraction for the eye to wander over, perhaps to withdraw the mind from the occasional scantiness of the repast.
But this morning we cannot complain, for cod steaks fresh from the adjacent deep, and mealy potatoes from the neighbouring lazy-beds, are settled in their places by the cup that cheers. For here, as in Australia or Russia, a meal is not a meal without a potent bowl of tea. It seems a concomitant of semibarbarism, for our teapot is never at rest, and already we have worn out two.
Hand over the loaf, please. Don’t you suppose we want for bread, although twenty-five miles from a regular baker! Bread? Yes, the best of bread. This loaf is baked with sea-water, soured flour for yeast, and best American flour for sole ingredient. Cut and come again! There is no alum to spoil your teeth, you need not fear any internal objections, and you may eat it fresh from the pot with pleasure and impunity. “The pot?” Why, you don’t expect we carry about a baker’s oven ! Mix smartly, knead thoroughly, drop it into the well-greased pot, and when it has risen, sink deep in the hot peat ashes.
You can read this book at http://www.electricscotland.com/history/lewsiana/
Alastair
PREFACE
A FEW of these descriptive papers appeared originally in the Glasgow Herald. We have added an historical chapter from the best sources within our reach, but we claim no occult knowledge of the early ages.
If we have said aught to wound the susceptibilities of the “kindly Lews folk” it was far from our intention, as we have nothing but pleasant memories of the people and the land. May they all live to receive as much consideration as the deer and the grouse!
Nov., 1874.
Here's a wee taster from Chapter 1 - How we lived in the Lews...
NOW you just pour the potatoes, and see that the fish is properly done, while we put on a fresh table-cover and set the table.—“Where will I pour them?”—Outside, round the corner; look about you, and see that you pour out the water, and keep the potatoes.—“Raining,” you say! Of course it is raining! You would like to do as our native did, who poured the water down a rat’s hole in his earthen floor, to save the lazy rascal twenty steps.
Well! now put on the pot again for a minute or two, while we throw out our note-book. Our linen-chest consists of a weekly supply of Glasgow Heralds, which are quite invaluable. First, as table-covers they require no washing; next, they are most convenient note-books when any “happy thoughts” strike one under the gentle stimulus of a cup of tea, or the solace of merry memories; and also they prove an ever-present literary attraction for the eye to wander over, perhaps to withdraw the mind from the occasional scantiness of the repast.
But this morning we cannot complain, for cod steaks fresh from the adjacent deep, and mealy potatoes from the neighbouring lazy-beds, are settled in their places by the cup that cheers. For here, as in Australia or Russia, a meal is not a meal without a potent bowl of tea. It seems a concomitant of semibarbarism, for our teapot is never at rest, and already we have worn out two.
Hand over the loaf, please. Don’t you suppose we want for bread, although twenty-five miles from a regular baker! Bread? Yes, the best of bread. This loaf is baked with sea-water, soured flour for yeast, and best American flour for sole ingredient. Cut and come again! There is no alum to spoil your teeth, you need not fear any internal objections, and you may eat it fresh from the pot with pleasure and impunity. “The pot?” Why, you don’t expect we carry about a baker’s oven ! Mix smartly, knead thoroughly, drop it into the well-greased pot, and when it has risen, sink deep in the hot peat ashes.
You can read this book at http://www.electricscotland.com/history/lewsiana/
Alastair