hard time she's had, puir lass. D'ye
mind the wee lassie that was sae still till she began to know ye--the
weest one of them a'? Aye? Weel, she was born six months after her
faither went awa', and I think she's our favorite among them a'."

"And ye ha' the care and the feedin' and the clothin' o' all that
brood?" I said. "Is it no cruel hard'?"

"Hard enow," said the auld man, breaking his silence. "But we'd no be
wi'oot them. They brichten up the hoose it'd be dull' and drear
wi'oot them. I'm hoping that daft lad never comes back, for all o'
Lizzie's thinking on him!"

And I share his hope. Chance! Had ever man a greater chance than that
sailor lad? He had gone wrong as a boy. Those old folk, because their
daughter loved him, gave him the greatest chance a man can have--the
chance to retrieve a bad start, to make up for a false step. How many
men have that? How many men are there, handicapped as, no doubt, he
was, who find those to put faith in them? If a man may not take
advantage of sicca chance as that he needs no better chance again
than a rope around his neck with a stone tied to it and a drop into
the Firth o' Forth!

I've a reminder to this day of that wee hoose at Gatehouse-of-Fleet.
There was an old fashioned wag-at-the-wa' in the bedroom where I
slept. It had a very curiously shaped little china face, and it took
my fancy greatly. Sae, next morning, I offered the old couple a good,
stiff price for it mair than it was worth, maybe, but not mair than
it was worth to me. They thought I was bidding far too much, and wanted
to tak' half, but I would ha' my ain way, for sae I was sure neither of
was being cheated. I carried it away wi' me, and the little clock wags
awa' in my bedroom to this very day.

There's a bit story I micht as weel tell ye mesel', for yell hear it
frae Mac in any case, if ever ye chance to come upon him. It's the
tale o' Kirsty Lamont and her rent box. I played eavesdropper, or I
wouldna know it to pass it on to ye, but it's tae gude tae lose, for
a' that. I'll be saying, first, that I dinna know Kirsty Lamont,
though I mak' sae free wi' her name, gude soul!

It was in Kirremuir, and there'd been a braw concert the nicht before.
I was on my way to the post office, thinking there'd be maybe a bit
letter from the wife--she wrote to me, sometimes, then, when I was
frae hame, oor courtin' days not being so far behind us as they are
noo. (Ah, she travels wi' me always the noo, ye ken, sae