PETER INSOLE'S FIRST NIGHT IN MASONY.

Thames Star, Volume IIII, Issue 1743, 4 August 1874, Page 3

PETER INSOLE'S FIRST NIGHT IN MASONY.

AS COMMUNICATED TO HIS FBIEN D, WALTEE

CLATPPEETON.

Deab Watty,—Your welcome letter came safely to hand. I was proud to hear o' your weelfare, and highly pleased wi' the grand descripton o'the Nettlewood Masonic demonstration ; and as I promised to gie a true and faithfu' account o' my first night in Masonry, and the trials and temptations that I encountered in a vain attempt o' oor Tibby to find out the Mason word, I'm proud to say that it was a vain attempt; but oh Watty I was sair tried. It was maybe wring in me to be made a Mason without acquaintin' Tibby aforehand, but as I'm naturally of an easy turn o' mind I thought I wad be a Mason first and tell Tibby after. Now Tibby's a thrifty weel-doing woman, but she has a way of her am, and )&e's aye countit the head o' the house aiming the neebours, and as I'm fond o' peace I seldom disturb her reign. Weel, Watty I was made a Maosn, and after .a tumbler or twao'whiskey toddy wi' the brethren I toddled aira hame. I halted awee at the door. Thinks I will I tell Tibby the night or wait till the morn. I expected a dirdum, and after considerin' a while thinks I I'll ease my conscience and hae dune wid, especially as I'm in gie quid fettle wi' the toody; sac in I gangs. " G-uid-sake, Peter, where hae ye been to this time o' night ? " " I've been a* a Mason's meetin', Tibby." Mason's meetin'! ir they for their wages up ugain ? stick to your lasts and your ingles Peter." Hoots, Tibby, its no the operative masons, it's the Freemasons. I'm a merry Mason noo lass," though faith I lookit onythiug but merry at the time, for I saw she was in a terrible temper, and that there was a storm brcwin'. " Peter" says she, and her een was like twa lowen candles, ".will y<i tell me that ye've joined that unhallowed squad." " Dinna be angry Tibby, thd Masons are real nice chields, there's naething but quid moral lessens in a'Freemason's lodge." " Moral lessons ! feastin', and fuddlin', and comin' hame iv the sma' hours o' the mornin'. Nice moral lessons, truly; but yell scart your name oot o' their book in the morn or I'll tell the minister." " Losh, woman, the minister's a Mason himsell." " Dinna lee, Peter; the minister wad never join sic a crew, nor meddle with their bustlin' aims, and red het pokers, and riding on goats. Na, na, Peter; that cock 'ill nc feight." "It's a fast,he was at the meeting the night." Ir ye no jokin' Peter?" "No, Tibby; the minister's a Freemason. Masonry's a'in the Bible, woman."

Weel, "Watty, this seemed to dumfonder her a -wee, for' she sat for fire minui es and never spoke, and I began to louse my buttons for bed, thinking that I had gained the victory, but oh, Watty the warst's to come to. "Peter," says she, "I'm sorry for havin' miica'd the masons," and she cam' and sat down beside me, "Do ye mind the days o'langsyne Peter, when ye cam' to coort me. I soon gied Sandy Riddle, the plaisterer, the back o'the door; I aye likit you best Peter; Now I've just a request to make, just ane, and I ken yell no refuse me Peter ?" "Ye ken that I can refuse you naething. What is't Tibby ?" "Then Peter, its just to tell me the mason's word?" "Aha, lass, catch a weasel asleep; na na, Tibby, that's a word I winna tell to woman kind." "Now, Peter, ye ken there should be nae secrets atween man an wife; the minister's wife, honest woman, wadna' need to ask him twice for the mason's word. Tell me Peter, hinny, and I'll be satisfied ?" Weel, Watty, she slipit her arm round my neck, and as the song says, " Bhe looked in my face till my heart was like to break," but I never flinched; she might as weel have tried to move Ruberslaw

" Tibby," says I. "If the minister's wife or any other woman, asked him sic a question, he wad set them off with a flea in their _ lug. He wad read them a lecture. Mind lass how our first parents were turned out o' the Garden o Eden, and a' thrught the sinfa' curosity o' a woman." " Are ye buisted wi' a redhot aim Peter ? Where was ye buisted on ? " Od, Watty, my yery bluid began to boil, "Woman," say I, "will ye drive me mad.'' " Peter," say she, if ye winna gies the word yell surely gie us the mason's grip ? " and she held out her hand. I grip it, Watty, and I doubt I hurt it, for she hopit across the floor on a fit, and crammed her fingers into her mouth; but from that day to this Tibby'i neyer asked for neither word nor grip frae me. The post's gaen, sac I maun stop. In my next I'll inform ye how she tried to find out the buisti--Your fraternally.

Petbe Insole, 424. —Tuapeka Times.