ul, and began to wonder what he should do. But he never took the
trouble to worry about anything, and he trusted that in the end it would
all come right.

"I have no lack of friends," he thought to himself, "and in the past I
have entertained them right royally; surely now it is their turn to
entertain me, and by and by I shall look for work."

So with a light heart he travelled to Edinburgh, where most of his fine
friends lived, never thinking but that they would be ready to receive
him with open arms. Alas! he had yet to learn that the people who are
most eager to share our prosperity are not always those who are readiest
to share our adversity. With all his faults he had ever been open-handed
and generous, and had lent his money freely, and he went boldly to their
doors, intending to ask them to lend him money in return, now that he
was in need of it.

But, to his surprise, instead of being glad to see him, one and all gave
him the cold shoulder.

At the first house the servant came to the door with the message that
his master was not at home, though the heir could have sworn that a
moment before he had seen him peeping through the window.

The master of the next house was at home, but he began to make excuses,
and to say how sorry he was, but he had just paid all his bills, and he
had no more money by him; while at the third house his friend spoke to
him quite sharply, just as if he had been a stranger, and told him that
he ought to be ashamed of the way he had wasted his father's money, and
sold his land, and that certainly he could not think of lending gold to
him, as he would never expect to see it back again.

The poor young man went out into the street, feeling quite dazed with
surprise.

"Ah, lack-a-day!" he said to himself bitterly. "So these are the men who
called themselves my friends. As long as I was Heir of Linne, and master
of my father's lands, they seemed to love me right well. Many a meal
have they eaten at my table, and many a pound of mine hath gone into
their pockets; and this is how they repay me."

After this things went from bad to worse. He tried to get work, but no
one would hire him, and it was not very long before the Heir of Linne,
who had been so proud and reckless in his brighter days, was going about
in ragged clothes, begging his bread from door to door. No one who saw
him now would have known him to be the bright-faced, handsome lad of
whom the old lord had been so proud a fe