He wrote the story in the summer of 1881 while he stayed at the rented Kinnaird Cottage in Kinnaird, a hamlet near Pitlochry, with his parents and wife. A severe, bleak-faced old man, dreadful to his hearers, he dwelt in the last years of his life, without relative or servant or any human company, in the small and lonely manse under the Hanging Shaw. thocht Mr. Soulis, "poor Janet's dead.". It was first published in the … Onyway, it behooved him to get an auld, decent wife to keep the manse for him an' see to his bit denners; and he was recommended to an auld limmer,--Janet M'Clour, they ca'd her,--and sae far left to himsel' as to be ower-persuaded. When some of the local women attempt to dunk Janet in the river to prove that she is a witch, the preacher rescues her and has her abjure the devil before them. They flew laigh and heavy, an' squawked to ither as they gaed; and it was clear to Mr. Soulis that something had put them frae their ordinar. Ye 're no wise, minister. He was careful and troubled for mony things besides the ae thing needful. thrawn janet 3 ❦ Fifty years syne, when Mr. Soulis cam first into Ba’weary, he was still a young man—a callant, the folk said—fu’ o’ book- learnin’ and grand at the exposition, but, as was natural in sae young a man, wi’ nae leevin’ experience in religion. Abune Hangin' Shaw, in the bield o' the Black Hill, there's a bit enclosed grund wi' an iron yert; and it seems, in the auld days, that was the kirkyaird o' Ba'weary, and consecrated by the papists before the blessed licht shone upon the kingdom. Lang or that, she had had a wean to a dragoon; she hadnae come forrit for maybe thretty year; and bairns had seen her mumblin' to hersel' up on Key's Loan in the gloamin', whilk was an unco time an' place for a God-fearin' woman. There cam' a clap o' wund, like a cat's fuff; oot gaed the can'le, the saughs skrieghed like folk' an' Mr. Soulis kenned that, live or die, this was the end o' 't. When he read the story to his wife Fanny, she said of it that it "sent a cauld grue [shudder] along my bones" and "fair frightened" Stevenson himself. Thereafter, the preacher often frightens his flock with the intensity of his admonitions against the forces of evil. Weel, when it got about the clachan that Janet M'Clour was to be servant at the manse, the folk were fair mad wi' her an' him thegether; and some o' the guidwives had nae better to dae than get round her door-cheeks and chairge her wi' a' that was kent again' her, frae the sodger's bairn to John Tamson's twa kye. There was whiles he thocht the black man was at his oxter, an' the swat stood upon him cauld as well-water; and there was other whiles when he cam' to himsel' like a christened bairn and minded naething. The children were frightened into fits, and the old looked more than usually oracular, and were, all that day, full of those hints that Hamlet deprecated. It was on the hasp, an' he pushed it open, an' keeked bauldly in. It was a big room, as big as the minister's ain, an' plenished wi' grand, auld, solid gear, for he had naething else. It seemed she was gaun to speak, but wanted words, an' made a sign wi' the left hand. "Thrawn Janet" is a short story, written in Scots, by the Scottish author Robert Louis Stevenson. He had a sermon on I Pet. A' the life o' his body, a' the strength o' his speerit, were glowerin' frae his een. He stepped out upon the road, but there was naebody there; he gaed a' ower the gairden, but na, nae black man. There's little doubt but it was him that dwalled sae lang in Janet's body; but he was awa' at last; and sinsyne the deil has never fashed us in Ba'weary. Related books and articles . And it was this strip of causeway that enjoyed among the young parishioners of Balweary so infamous a reputation. Up she got, an' there wasnae an auld story in Ba'weary but she gart somebody lowp for it that day; they couldnae say ae thing but she could say twa to it; till, at the hinder end, the guidwives up and claught haud of her, and clawed the coats aff her back, and pu'd her doun the clachan to the water o' Dule, to see if she were a witch or no, soum or droun. An unknown error has occurred. She was tramp-trampin' in the cla'es, croonin' to hersel'; and eh! It was aye pit-mirk; the flame o' the can'le, when he set it on the grund, brunt steedy and clear as in a room; naething moved, but the Dule Water seepin' and sabbin' doon the glen, an' yon unhaly footstep that cam' plodding' doun the stairs inside the manse. They were books o' divinity, to be sure, or so they ca'd them; but the serious were o' opinion there was little service for sae mony, when the hail o' God's Word would gang in the neuk of a plaid. Syne she turned round, an' shawed her face; Mr. Soulis had the same cauld grue as twice that day afore, an' it was borne in upon him what folk said, that Janet was deid lang syne, an' this was a bogle in her clay-cauld flesh. In he gaed (an' there's few that wad hae followed him), an' lookit a' round, an' listened. In spite of the iron composure of his features, his eye was wild, scared, and uncertain; and when he dwelt, in private admonitions, on the future of the impenitent, it seemed as if his eye pierced through the storms of time to the terrors of eternity. AND, OR, NOT, “ ”, ( ), We use cookies to deliver a better user experience and to show you ads based on your interests. [6], The story is one of only two stories ever written by Stevenson in Scots, the other being "The Tale of Tod Lapraik". And just at that moment, in Janet's room, which was neist to his, there cam' a stamp o' feet as if men were wars'lin', an' then a loud bang; an' then a wund gaed reishling round the fower quarters of the house; an' then a' was ance mair as seelent as the grave. The manse itself, where it stood by the water of Dule among some thick trees, with the Shaw overhanging it on the one side, and on the other many cold, moorish hilltops rising toward the sky, had begun, at a very early period of Mr. Soulis's ministry, to be avoided in the dusk hours by all who valued themselves upon their prudence; and guidmen sitting at the clachan alehouse shook their heads together at the thought of passing late by that uncanny neighbourhood.

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