Scott, catching grumpily at the idea,
replied, "I greatly doubt, sir, you were born for nae better then a
gangrel scrape-gut,"--a speech which very probably suggested his son's
conception of Darsie Latimer's adventures with the blind fiddler,
"Wandering Willie," in _Redgauntlet_. And, it is true that these were
the days of mental and moral fermentation, what was called in Germany
the Sturm-und-Drang, the "fret-and-fury" period of Scott's life, so
far as one so mellow and genial in temper ever passed through a period
of fret and fury at all. In other words these were the days of rapid
motion, of walks of thirty miles a day which the lame lad yet found no
fatigue to him; of mad enterprises, scrapes and drinking-bouts, in one
of which Scott was half persuaded by his friends that he actually sang
a song for the only time in his life. But even in these days of
youthful sociability, with companions of his own age, Scott was always
himself, and his imperious will often asserted itself. Writing of this
time, some thirty-five years or so later, he said, "When I was a boy,
and on foot expeditions, as we had many, no creature could be so
indifferent which way our course was directed, and I acquiesced in
what any one proposed; but if I was once driven to make a choice, and
felt piqued in honour to maintain my proposition, I have broken off
from the whole party, rather than yield to any one.
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