448 



A CROWDIE NIGHT.' 



CHAP. XX. 



by this time his "wind" 

 had greatly failed. He 

 would occasionally in- 

 vite an old friend to 

 take a quiet wrestle 

 with him on the lawn, 

 to keep up his skill, 

 and perhaps to try 

 some new " knack " of 

 throwing. In the even- 

 ing, he would some- 

 times indulge his vi 

 sitors by reciting the 

 old pastoral of " Damon 

 and Phyllis," or sing- 

 ing his favourite song 

 of " John Anderson 

 my Joe." But his 

 greatest glory amongst 

 those with whom he 

 was most intimate, 



was " a crowdie ! " " Let's have a crowdie night," he 

 would say; and forthwith a kettle of boiling water 

 was ordered in, with a basin of oatmeal. Taking a 

 large bowl, containing a sufficiency of hot water, and 

 placing it between his knees, he poured in oatmeal with 

 one hand, and stirred the mixture vigorously with the 

 other. When enough meal had been added, and the 

 stirring was completed, the crowdie was made. It was 

 then supped with new milk, and Stephenson generally 

 pronounced it " capital ! " It was the diet to which he had 

 been accustomed when a working man, and all the dain- 

 ties with which he had become familiar in recent years 

 had not spoiled his simple tastes. To enjoy crowdie at 

 his age, besides, indicated that he still possessed that 

 quality on which no doubt much of his practical success 

 in life had depended, a strong and healthy digestion. 



