g to herself in a depressing murmur until she arrives at
the next grievance. Whenever we hear this, which is whenever we are in
the sitting-room, we amuse ourselves by chanting lines of melancholy
poetry which correspond to the sentiments she seems to be uttering. It
is the only way the infliction can be endured, for the sitting-room is
so small we cannot keep the door closed habitually. The effect of this
plan is something like the following:--

_She_. "The range has sic a bad draft I canna mak' the fire draw!"

_We_. "But I'm ower auld for the tears to start,
An' sae the sighs maun blaw!"

_She_. "The clock i' the hall doesna strike. I have to get oot
o' my bed to see the time."

_We_. "The broken hairt it kens
Nae second spring again!"

_She_. "There are not eneuch jugs i' the hoose."

_We_. "I'm downright dizzy wi' the thought,--
In troth I'm like to greet!"

_She_. "The sink drain is na recht."

_We_. "An' it's oh! to win awa', awa',
An' it's oh! to win awa'!"

_She_. "I canna thole a box-bed!"

_We_. "Ay, waukin' O
Waukin' O an' weary.
Sleep I can get nane,
Ay waukin' O!"

_She_. "It's fair insultin' to rent a hoose wi' so few convenience."

_We_. "An' I'm ower auld to fish ony mair,
An' I hinna the chance to droon."

_She_. "The work is fair sickenin' i' this hoose,
an' a' for ane puir body to do by her lane."

_We_. "How can ye chant, ye little birds,
An' I sae weary, fu' o' care?"

_She_. "Ah, but that was a fine family I lived wi' in Glasgy;
an' it's a wearifu' day's work I've had the day."

_We_. "Oh, why was I spared to cry, wae's me!"

_She_. "Why dinna they leave floo'rs i' the garden, makin' sic a
mess i' the hoose wi' 'em? It's not for the knowin' what they
will be after next!"

_We_. "Oh, waly waly up the bank,
And waly waly doon the brae!"

Miss Grieve's plaints never grow less, though we are sometimes at a
loss for appropriate quotations to match them. The poetic
interpolations are introduced merely to show the general spirit of her
conversation. They take the place of her sighs, which are by their
nature unprintable. Many times each day she is wont to sink into one
low chair, and, extending her feet in another, close her eyes and
murmur undistinguishable plaints which come to us in a kind of
rhythmic way. She has such a shaking right hand we hav