just as it should; and
not once, all that day, did Hornie again get a mouthful of the
grain. It was rather a heavy morning for Gibbie, though, who had
eaten nothing, and every time he came near Donal, saw the
handkerchief bulging in the grass, which a little girl had brought
and left for him. But he was a rare one both at waiting and at
going without.

At last, however, Donal either grew hungry of himself, or was moved
by certain understood relations between the sun and the necessities
of his mortal frame; for he laid down his book, called out to
Gibbie, "Cratur, it's denner-time," and took his bundle. Gibbie
drew near with sparkling eyes. There was no selfishness in his
hunger, for, at the worst pass he had ever reached, he would have
shared what he had with another, but he looked so eager, that Donal,
who himself knew nothing of want, perceived that he was ravenous,
and made haste to undo the knots of the handkerchief, which Mistress
Jean appeared that day to have tied with more than ordinary vigour,
ere she intrusted the bundle to the foreman's daughter. When the
last knot yielded, he gazed with astonishment at the amount and
variety of provision disclosed.

"Losh!" he exclaimed, "the mistress maun hae kenned there was two o'
's."

He little thought that what she had given him beyond the usual
supply was an acknowledgment of services rendered by those same
hands into which he now delivered a share, on the ground of other
service altogether. It is not always, even where there is no
mistake as to the person who has deserved it, that the reward
reaches the doer so directly.

Before the day was over, Donal gave his helper more and other pay
for his service. Choosing a fit time, when the cattle were well
together and in good position, Hornie away at the stone dyke, he
took from his pocket a somewhat wasted volume of ballads--ballants,
he called them--and said, "Sit ye doon, cratur. Never min' the
nowt. I'm gaein' to read till ye."

Gibbie dropped on his crossed legs like a lark to the ground, and
sat motionless. Donal, after deliberate search, began to read, and
Gibbie to listen; and it would be hard to determine which found the
more pleasure in his part. For Donal had seldom had a listener--and
never one so utterly absorbed.

When the hour came for the cattle to go home, Gibbie again remained
behind, waiting until all should be still at the farm. He lay on
the dyke, brooding over what he had heard,