ld. Gin I had twa guile feet I could gang the bit way
wi'oot shoon."

"I ken it isna so cauld," Ailie admitted, "but for a lassie it's no'
respectable to gang to a grand place barefeeted."

That was undeniable, and the eager children fell silent and tearful. But
oh, necessity is the mother of makeshifts among the poor! Suddenly Ailie
cried: "Bide a meenit, Tammy," and vanished. Presently she was back,
with the difficulty overcome. "Grannie says I can wear her shoon. She
doesna wear 'em i' the hoose, ava."

"I'll gie ye a saxpence, Ailie," offered Tammy.

The sordid bargain shocked no feeling of these tenement bairns
nor marred their pleasure in the adventure. Presently there was a
tap-tap-tapping of crutches on the heavy gallery that fronted the Cunzie
Neuk, and on the stairs that descended from it to the steep and curving
row. The lassie draped a fragment of an old plaid deftly over her thinly
clad shoulders, climbed through the window, to the pediment of the
classic tomb that blocked it, and dropped into the kirkyard. To her
surprise Bobby was there at her feet, frantically wagging his tail,
and he raced her to the gate. She caught him on the steps of the dining
room, and held his wriggling little body fast until Tammy came up.

It was a tumultuous little group that burst in upon the astonished
landlord: barking fluff of an excited dog, flying lassie in clattering
big shoes, and wee, tapping Tammy. They literally fell upon him when he
was engaged in counting out his money.

"Whaur did you find him?" asked Mr. Traill in bewilderment.

Six-year-old Ailie slipped a shy finger into her mouth, and looked to
the very much more mature five-year old crippled laddie to answer,

"He was i' the kirkyaird."

"Sittin' upon a stane by 'is ainsel'," added Ailie.

"An' no' hidin', ava. It was juist like he was leevin' there."

"An' syne, when I drapped oot o' the window he louped at me so bonny,
an' I couldna keep up wi' 'im to the gate."

Wonder of wonders! It was plain that Bobby had made his way back from
the hill farm and, from his appearance and manner, as well as from this
account, it was equally clear that some happy change in his fortunes
had taken place. He sat up on his haunches listening with interest and
lolling his tongue! And that was a thing the bereft little dog had not
done since his master died. In the first pause in the talk he rose and
begged for his dinner.

"Noo, what am I to pay? It took ane, twa