.
"The laddie has done it in a fit o' passion," said I, "and what will
become o' poor Katie?" Weel, although it was said that the lassie
never had ony particular affection for him, but just married him out
o' gratitude, and although several genteel families in the
neighbourhood offered her respectable and comfortable situations (for
she was universally liked), yet the strange creature preferred to
follow the hard fortunes o' Jamie, who had been disowned on her
account, and she implored the officers of the regiment to be allowed
to accompany him. It is possible that they were interested with her
appearance, and what they had heard of his connection, and the manner
in which he had been treated, for they granted her request; and about
a month after he enlisted, the regiment marched from Carlisle, and
Katie accompanied her husband. They went abroad somewhere--to the East
or West Indies, I believe; but from that day to this I have never
heard a word concerning either the one or the other, or whether they
be living or not. All I know is, that the auld man died within two
years after his son had become a soldier, and, keeping his resentment
to his last breath, actually left his property to a brother's son. And
that, sir, is all that I know of Venturesome Jamie and your old
sweetheart, Katie.
The doctor looked thoughtful, exceedingly thoughtful; and the old
dominie, acquiring additional loquacity as he went on, poured out
another glass, and added--
"But come, doctor, we will drink a bumper, 'for auld langsyne,' to the
lassie wi' the gowden locks, be she dead or living."
"With my whole heart and soul," replied the doctor, impassionedly;
and, pouring out a glass, he drained it to the dregs.
"The auld feeling is not quenched yet, doctor," said the venerable
teacher, "and I am sorry for it; for, had I known, I would have spoken
more guardedly. But I will proceed to gie ye an account o' the rest o'
your class-fellows, and I will do it briefly. There was Walter
Fairbairn, who went amongst ye by the name o'
CAUTIOUS WATTY.
He was the queerest laddie that ever I had at my school. He had
neither talent nor cleverness; but he made up for both, and, I may
say, more than made up for both, by method and application. Ye would
have said that nature had been in a miserly humour when it made his
brains; but, if it had been niggardly in the quantity, it certainly
had spared no pains in placing them properly. He was the very rever
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