Elijah, a thoosand 'ear efter he
was taen up, cam' back withoot being a bit cheenged ether ae wey or
anither; that was his idea o't."

"It's a gey ticklish subjeck," put in the Smith; "but, faigs, lads, I
haud wi' the minister."

He's an awtu' nice, cowshis man the Smith. Ye wud sometimes think he
was meent for a minister, he says things that clever; an' a body aye
feels the better efter a crack wi' him.

"Ye see," he gaed on, "I wadna like it to be ony ither wey. Ye mind o'
my little Elsie? Puir lassie, it's--lat me see; ay, it's twal' 'ear
come Mertimas sin' she was taen awa'. Ay, man; an' she taen mair o' my
heart wi' her in her bit coffinie than she left ahent her. A bonnie
bit lassie she was, Bawbie, as ye'll mind. She was juist seven past
when she was taen awa'; an' when I meet her again, I wud like her to be
juist the same bonnie bit lassokie that cam' in wi' her pawlie that
Setarday efternune an' tell'd me she had a sair heid--the henmist sair
heid ever she was genna hae. Ye see, lads, if Elsie was growin' aulder
in heaven, she wud be a woman nearhand twenty gin this time, an' she
wudna be the same to me ava." An' the Smith lookit into the heart o'
the fire like's he had tint something; an' I saw his een fill.

"That's the minister's wey o' lookin' at the thing too, I think," said
the Gairner; "but I canna juist fathom't, I maun admit."

"There's something in what the Smith says," said Bandy; "but if there's
to be nae growin' ony aulder i' the next world, there'll be some fowk
'ill hae a gey trauchle. There was Mysie Wilkie's bairn that de'ed
doon there i' the Loan a fortnicht syne. It was a puir wammily-lookin'
cratur, an' was only but aucht days auld when it took bruntkadis an'
closed, juist in an 'oor or twa. Mysie, puir cratur, never kent. She
was brainish a' the time, an' she follow'd her bairnie twa days efter.
D'ye mean to tell me that Mysie 'ill be dwanged trailin' throo a'
eternity wi' a bit bairnie aucht days auld, an' it never gettin' even
the lenth o' bein' doakit, lat aleen growin' up to be able to tak' care
o'ts sel? The thing's no rizzenable."

"But there wud be plenty bit lassies to gie the bairn a hurl in a
coach," said the Tailor. "I dinna see hoo Mysie cudna get redd o' her
bairn for an' oor noo an' than."

"But that wud juist be a dwang to the lassies, syne," answered Bandy.

"That's a thing I've often thocht aboot mysel'," says Sandy; "an' the
only wey I cud mak' it