ust then returned from his fruitless search.

"My son, my darling!" cried Mrs Sudberry, as she rushed into the
cottage, and clasped Jacky in her arms. She could say no more, and if
she had said more it could not have been heard, for her appearance
created dire confusion and turmoil in the hovel. The lost and found
wanderers started up to welcome her, the little dog sprang up to bark
furiously and repel her, and the old woman ran at her, screaming, with
intent to rescue Jacky from her grasp. There was a regular scuffle, for
the old woman was strong in her rage, but George and Fred held her
firmly, though tenderly, back, while Mr Sudberry hurried his alarmed
spouse and their child out of the hut, and made for home as fast as
possible. Lucy followed with George almost immediately after, leaving
Fred to do his best to calm and comfort the old woman. For his humane
efforts Fred received a severe scratching on the face, and was compelled
to seek refuge in flight.

STORY ONE, CHAPTER 13.

VISITING THE POOR.

For some time after this the Sudberry Family were particularly careful
not to wander too far from their mountain home. Mr Sudberry forbade
everyone, on pain of his utmost displeasure, to venture up among the
hills without McAllister or one of his lads as a guide. As a further
precaution, he wrote for six pocket compasses to be forwarded as soon as
possible.

"My dear," said his wife, "since you are writing home, you may as
well--"

"My dear, I am not writing--"

"You're writing to London for compasses, are you not?"

"No," said Mr Sudberry with a smile. "I believe they understand how to
manufacture the mariner's compass in Scotland--I am writing to my
Edinburgh agent for them."

"Oh! ah well, it did not occur to me. Now you mention it, I think I
have heard that the Scotch have sort of scientific tendencies."

"Yes, they are `feelosophically' inclined, as our friend McAllister
would say. But what did you want, my love?"

"I want a hobby-horse to be sent to us for Jacky; but it will be of no
use writing to Edinburgh for one. I suppose they do not use such things
in a country where there are so few real horses, and so few roads fit
for a horse to walk on."

Mr Sudberry made no reply, not wishing to incur the expense of such a
useless piece of furniture, and his wife continued her needlework with a
sigh. From the bottom of her large heart she pitied the Scottish
nation, and wondered whether ther