nt that
happened to Mrs Girdwood, the deacon of the coopers' wife--a most
managing, industrious, and indefatigable woman, that allowed no grass to
grow in her path.

Mrs Girdwood had fee'd one Jeanie Tirlet, and soon after she came home,
the mistress had her big summer washing at the public washing-house on
the green--all the best of her sheets and napery--both what had been used
in the course of the winter, and what was only washed to keep clear in
the colour, were in the boyne. It was one of the greatest doings of the
kind that the mistress had in the whole course of the year, and the value
of things intrusted to Jeanie's care was not to be told, at least so said
Mrs Girdwood herself.

Jeanie and Marion Sapples, the washerwoman, with a pickle tea and sugar
tied in the corners of a napkin, and two measured glasses of whisky in an
old doctor's bottle, had been sent with the foul clothes the night before
to the washing-house, and by break of day they were up and at their work;
nothing particular, as Marion said, was observed about Jeanie till after
they had taken their breakfast, when, in spreading out the clothes on the
green, some of the ne'er-do-weel young clerks of the town were seen
gaffawing and haverelling with Jeanie, the consequence of which was, that
all the rest of the day she was light-headed; indeed, as Mrs Girdwood
told me herself, when Jeanie came in from the green for Marion's dinner,
she couldna help remarking to her goodman, that there was something fey
about the lassie, or, to use her own words, there was a storm in her
tail, light where it might. But little did she think it was to bring the
dule it did to her.

Jeanie having gotten the pig with the wonted allowance of broth and beef
in it for Marion, returned to the green, and while Marion was eating the
same, she disappeared. Once away, aye away; hilt or hair of Jeanie was
not seen that night. Honest Marion Sapples worked like a Trojan to the
gloaming, but the light latheron never came back; at last, seeing no
other help for it, she got one of the other women at the washing-house to
go to Mrs Girdwood and to let her know what had happened, and how the
best part of the washing would, unless help was sent, be obliged to lie
out all night.

The deacon's wife well knew the great stake she had on that occasion in
the boyne, and was for a season demented with the thought; but at last
summoning her three daughters, and borrowing our lass, and Mr Sme