bed. He walked round all the sheds on his farm. But he never saw the old beggar. Then he saw a light in the coach house. He walked down, an’ he opened the door of the coach house.
Then he walked into the coach and he saw the old beggar lying there –
four hands holding two candles each beside the old beggar’s head and at his feet
. And the farmer was aghast. He walked back, backwards from the shed.
He said, ‘It’s the old beggar and he’s dead.’
He walked home, he went to his bed. But he never had another dream.
Next morning when he got up he called for the coachman. The coachman came before him.
He said, ‘Coachman, did you let an old beggar in my coach last night?’
The coachman said, ‘Yes, master. You can sack me if you want to. I don’t care. You can have my job. But I could not let an old beggar lie asleep in the snow.’
And the farmer said to him, ‘Sack you, my man? I’m not going to sack you in any way. I’m going to make you manager of my farm and everything I own. You can work it for me for the rest of your life. Tomorrow morning I want you to go down to the joiners and get a beautiful sign made telling the world – TRAMPS AND BEGGARS WILL BE WELCOME – and a bed and whatever they can eat. Put it at my road-end. And you can run the farm for me for the rest of my time.’
So the coachman got that done. He put a sign on the roadside at the farm saying, TRAMPS AND BEGGARS WILL BE WELCOME . But the farmer waited, and he waited and he waited for many, many years. Never a tramp or a beggar ever came to his doorway until the day he died.
And what happened to that farmer I’m sure you know as well as what I do.
Johnny McGill and the Crow
Johnny McGill is a legend in the West Coast and many parts of Scotland forbye. But he was a great friend of the farmers, so let me tell you . . . My father used to sit at night-time and tell us stories in the tent away back home in Argyll when we were small and sometimes we would bring up the subject of Johnny McGill, whom he knew personally well back in the thirties; because my father had camped with him, and so had many of the Scottish Travelling folk, especially in Argyll, not so much in Perthshire. And of course they had strange stories to tell. Because Johnny McGill had came out of nowhere. He had a little handcart painted green that said FROM LAND’S END TO JOHN O’ GROATS TEN TIMES ON FOOT . He and his wife Mary didna have any children.
But the thing that disturbed most of the Travelling people at that time was the material that Johnny McGill carried with him; there were bottles and packages and things that he kept separated from his foodstuffs and other things because Johnny McGill at heart was a vet. Nobody knew where he came from. He was married to a Traveller woman, and of course the local Travelling women at that time always kept in contact with old Mary, because she saved up clothes for the children and she gave them things and she always had money when they had nothing. So they had no disrespect for old Mary; I think she was a McGregor.
But Johnny McGill had come out of nowhere, as I said. It was all right around the campfires, the Travellers would crack to him, they’d come over to him, but they had this thing in their head that he was a kind of a student or a kind of doctor that would get in touch with . . . because the burkers were in strong force at that time, and burkers were never far from the Traveller’s mind, the body-snatchers! . . . Johnny McGill was a kind of an agent for the burkers and this was just a front, this vet carry-on. But he was a great favourite with the farmers. And of course his name was well known on the West Coast.
So my story begins. One of Johnny’s stories begins in Argyll in Kilmichael Glassary. Between Kilmichael and Kilmartin there’s a little quarry where the Travellers used to stay. And of course a group of the Travellers was there in that quarry, my father included. Now Johnny McGill was, I say, a
Then he walked into the coach and he saw the old beggar lying there –
four hands holding two candles each beside the old beggar’s head and at his feet
. And the farmer was aghast. He walked back, backwards from the shed.
He said, ‘It’s the old beggar and he’s dead.’
He walked home, he went to his bed. But he never had another dream.
Next morning when he got up he called for the coachman. The coachman came before him.
He said, ‘Coachman, did you let an old beggar in my coach last night?’
The coachman said, ‘Yes, master. You can sack me if you want to. I don’t care. You can have my job. But I could not let an old beggar lie asleep in the snow.’
And the farmer said to him, ‘Sack you, my man? I’m not going to sack you in any way. I’m going to make you manager of my farm and everything I own. You can work it for me for the rest of your life. Tomorrow morning I want you to go down to the joiners and get a beautiful sign made telling the world – TRAMPS AND BEGGARS WILL BE WELCOME – and a bed and whatever they can eat. Put it at my road-end. And you can run the farm for me for the rest of my time.’
So the coachman got that done. He put a sign on the roadside at the farm saying, TRAMPS AND BEGGARS WILL BE WELCOME . But the farmer waited, and he waited and he waited for many, many years. Never a tramp or a beggar ever came to his doorway until the day he died.
And what happened to that farmer I’m sure you know as well as what I do.
Johnny McGill and the Crow
Johnny McGill is a legend in the West Coast and many parts of Scotland forbye. But he was a great friend of the farmers, so let me tell you . . . My father used to sit at night-time and tell us stories in the tent away back home in Argyll when we were small and sometimes we would bring up the subject of Johnny McGill, whom he knew personally well back in the thirties; because my father had camped with him, and so had many of the Scottish Travelling folk, especially in Argyll, not so much in Perthshire. And of course they had strange stories to tell. Because Johnny McGill had came out of nowhere. He had a little handcart painted green that said FROM LAND’S END TO JOHN O’ GROATS TEN TIMES ON FOOT . He and his wife Mary didna have any children.
But the thing that disturbed most of the Travelling people at that time was the material that Johnny McGill carried with him; there were bottles and packages and things that he kept separated from his foodstuffs and other things because Johnny McGill at heart was a vet. Nobody knew where he came from. He was married to a Traveller woman, and of course the local Travelling women at that time always kept in contact with old Mary, because she saved up clothes for the children and she gave them things and she always had money when they had nothing. So they had no disrespect for old Mary; I think she was a McGregor.
But Johnny McGill had come out of nowhere, as I said. It was all right around the campfires, the Travellers would crack to him, they’d come over to him, but they had this thing in their head that he was a kind of a student or a kind of doctor that would get in touch with . . . because the burkers were in strong force at that time, and burkers were never far from the Traveller’s mind, the body-snatchers! . . . Johnny McGill was a kind of an agent for the burkers and this was just a front, this vet carry-on. But he was a great favourite with the farmers. And of course his name was well known on the West Coast.
So my story begins. One of Johnny’s stories begins in Argyll in Kilmichael Glassary. Between Kilmichael and Kilmartin there’s a little quarry where the Travellers used to stay. And of course a group of the Travellers was there in that quarry, my father included. Now Johnny McGill was, I say, a
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