o doors to their house."

Hamish laughed. "There's grander things than that there; there's
carpets on the floor, an' a piano to play on, an' a whole roomful o'
books! Losh!" he exclaimed, "I'd like to get my hands on them jist for
a day!"

"How did Kirsty John's mother get this one?"

"The lady that lives there lent it to her. Kirsty's mother used to
work for them. Go on away now, and let me read!" for the boy was
running his fingers through the pages. "There's no pictures; go and
play with Bruce."

But Scotty had turned to the fly-leaf and had discovered some writing.
"What's that, Hamish?"

Hamish read the inscription, which was written in a round boyish
scrawl, "Isabel Douglas Herbert, from her loving cousin, Harold."

"Who're they?"

"The boy's the Captain's son, and the little girl is his niece. I saw
her once at Kirsty's. She's a pretty, wee thing."

"Huh!" Scotty was disdainful. "I don't like girls. They will jist be
cry-babies. Is the boy as big as me?"

"He's a little bigger, I guess. He goes to school away in Toronto."

"Bet I could fight him. Is Toronto away over in the old country?"

"No, it's in Canada. Be quiet. I want to read."

"Oh! Is Canady very far away?"

"No, it's right here; this is Canada."

"Oh! An' will the school-house be in Canady too?"

"Yes."

"An' the Captain's house?"

"Imph-n-n."

"Oh! An' all, Oro, an' Lake Simcoe? What will you be laughing at?"

"Wait till old McAllister learns you some geography. You'll hear
something about Canada that'll surprise you, whatever."

"It won't be as big as the old country, though, will it?" But Hamish
did not answer. He was far away with David Copperfield once more. The
boy raised the fly-leaf and took another peep at the name. He sat very
quiet for a few moment's and then he crept closer to his uncle, a red
flush creeping up under the tan of his cheeks, his black eyes shining.

"Hamish!" he whispered, "Hamish, will that be an--_English_ name?"

"Eh? What name?" Hamish awoke reluctantly to the troublesome
realities. "I'll not know."

"Aw, tell me, Hamish!"

"My, but you will be a bother! Yes, Herbert will be an English name,
but Isabel Douglas is Scotch, an' a fine Hielan' name, too. But what
in the world would you be wanting to know for?"

Scotty hesitated. He hung his black, curly head, and swung his feet in
embarrassment; but finally he looked up desperately.

"Do you know what made Danny M