gry, was busy breaking
the piece of loaf. Wishart with great care divided the pie without
spilling much more than half its gravy, and began on his half of it and
the biggest onion simultaneously. Baubie ate up her share of pie,
declined cheese, and attacked her onion and a great piece of crust. The
crust was very tough, and after the mutton-pie rather dry and tasteless,
and she laid it down presently in her lap, and after a few minutes'
passive silence began: "That," nodding at the cheese, or what was left
of it rather, "wis all I got--ae penny. The leddy took me up till a
hoose, an' anither are that wis there came doon hame and gaed in ben,
an' wis speirin' for ye, an' says she'll gie me till the polis for
singin' an' askin' money in t' streets, an' wants you to gie me till her
to pit in schuil."

She stopped and fixed her eyes on him, watching the effect of her words.
Wishart laid down his bread and cheese and stared back at her. It seemed
to take some time for his brain to realize all the meaning of her
pregnant speech.

"Ay," he said after a while, and with an effort, "I maun tak' ye to
Glasgae, to yer aunt. Ye'll be pit in schuil if yer caught."

"I'll no bide," observed Baubie, finishing off her onion with a
grimace. The raw onion was indeed strong and hot, even for Bauble's not
too epicurean palate, but it had been got for nothing--a circumstance
from which it derived a flavor which many people more dainty than Bauble
Wishart find to be extremely appetizing.

"Bide!" echoed her father: "they'll mak' ye bide. Gin I had only the
banjo agen!" sighed the whilom Christy man, getting up and preparing to
adjust the boards once more.

The last crumb of the loaf was done, and Bauble, refreshed, got up too.
"Whenll ye be hame?" she questioned abruptly when they had reached the
top of the steps.

"Seven. Gaeway hame wi' ye, lassie, noo. Ye didna see _her_?" he
questioned as he walked off.

"Na," replied Bauble, standing still and looking about her as if to
choose which way she should take.

He sighed deeply, and moved off slowly on his way back to his post, with
the listless, hopeless air that seems to belong to the members of his
calling.

Bauble obeyed her parent's commands in so far as that she did go home,
but as she took Punch and Judy in her course up the Mound, and diverged
as far as a football match in the Meadows, it was nearly seven before
Kennedy's Lodgings saw her again.

The following morning, sho