The complete works.

First sale of the day, a complete set of the Waverly Novels to a well-fleshed chap of senior years with a sense of humour and a resentment toward his teachers for forcing Sir Walter on him in his school days. I'm very glad I didn't grow up in Scotland. Shakespeare and Chaucer are much preferable IMO and I'm glad to have had THEM foisted upon me, but I didn't say so. My goodness how well I have learned to hold my tongue when a sale is at stake! The well-fleshed chap is surprisingly well versed in Scott characters considering he didn't enjoy the books at the time and now enthusiastic to revisit Scotts' world, hence the bulk buy. Somehow - heaven knows how - we deviated to animal rights and a harangue from him which became testing for me to listen to in silence. He is a believer in 'The Good Book' where we are told that animals are put on this earth for our use. Which, according to him, includes sporting activities. Jolly nice of the Maker to think of our entertainment along with our nutritional needs!

He wasn't as bad as the large and very charismatic preacher from Alabama last summer who arrived with his numerous family members making the shop feel suddenly claustrophobically small. He asked as many Americans do, to be shown the oldest books in the store, specifically Bibles and all books about The Lord's Work. Unfortunately he glimpsed Welsh's 'Filfth' amongst the fiction and in a stentorian voice condemned the selling of it. Then, oh dear for his BP, he saw the Occult section! His daughter tactfully distracted him in time before he hauled me out to the ducking stool. (Alabama - Salem, Selma. The land of the burning cross.Tough folk to tangle with.) Happily for me the daughter had found a leatherbound copy of Fox's Book of Martyrs and was clutching it to her ecstatically. He looked at the price and offered me half. When I bridled he said 'Well, who else is going to buy it in this place?" The very sweet young girl hushed him and said in a conspiratorial aside that her father was a preacher and that they had grown up with these people, fondly indicating the Martyrs. Good grief! What a childhood! Secretly I was agreeing with him about the difficulty of selling the book easily. Martyrs just don't have the same cosy childhood glow round here as they have in Alabama so I told the daughter that I would reduce my price as a gesture of good will toward visitors to our little town.

When they had gone I counted my money which I found was a great consolation and helped to control the nausea the old bully had aroused.

There aren't many like him in this part of the world but there are one or two. The Wee Free's have their fair share and a Minister from one of the many Church of Scotland churches in this town used to put threatening notices up outside his church about the exclusivity of the Happy Afterlife club. 'Only those who believe in me..' etc. until he was challenged by a few well-read folk including a Christian Jew who took him to task in the local paper. The same Minister asked me once if I am Christian and when I said 'No' retorted that he would be 'sorry not to see me in the Hereafter.' some months later at a Fair Trade sale he apologised to me. 'No need' I told him loftily. 'No harm done.' It's not only Christians who can be smugly forgiving! The Minister for the curch opposite my shop, Barry by name, is a much more human soul. He was distressed last autumn when he had three RAF funerals in a row for men who had died in an accident in Afghanistan. What upset him most was that the chidren of the married ones had expected to see their fathers home again at precisely the time they were being interred. It was hard for the little ones to understand that a dad who often went away but always came back, this time wasn't going to. The RAF give them a good send off, with full military honours, a parade, and a fly past, for what good that does. I can't imagine what Barry finds to say to offer any comfort.

Whilst on the subject of the Church, I remembered today that I bought some manuscript pages from the record of a case bought before the Venerable Assembly ( Edinburgh 1762?) in relation to Mr Robert Dalrymple, Appellant. Mr. R D was a Minister of the Church at Dollas (Dallas) who got his domestic servant, one Margaret Lee, pregnant. Afraid of the consequences he tried to procure an abortion for her by sending a letter to the gardener on a local estate for a quantity of savin tree (now known as red cedar) which he infused with other herbs and gave her to drink 'for a considerable time.' Providence however defeated this 'criminal attempt' and she remained pregnant whereupon he attempted to persuade her father to take her away from the area and money was offered to facilitate this (£5 by the sound of it, raised to £6 and finally £60 under duress.) I think I'll spend the day re-reading it and making notes..