, three o' ye to fetch ane sma'
dog. A saxpence for the laddie, a saxpence for the lassie, an' a bit
meal for Bobby."

While he was putting the plate down under the settle Mr. Traill heard
an amazed whisper "He's gien the doggie a chuckie bane." The landlord
switched the plate from under Bobby's protesting little muzzle and
turned to catch the hungry look on the faces of the children. Chicken,
indeed, for a little dog, before these ill-fed bairns! Mr. Traill had a
brilliant thought.

"Preserve me! I didna think to eat ma ain dinner. I hae so muckle to eat
I canna eat it by ma lane."

The idea of having too much to eat was so preposterously funny that
Tammy doubled up with laughter and nearly tumbled over his crutches. Mr.
Traill set him upright again.

"Did ye ever gang on a picnic, bairnies?" And what was a picnic? Tammy
ventured the opinion that it might be some kind of a cart for lame
laddies to ride in.

"A picnic is when ye gang gypsying in the summer," Mr. Traill explained.
"Ye walk to a bonny green brae, an' sit doon under a hawthorntree a'
covered wi' posies, by a babblin' burn, an' ye eat oot o' yer ain hands.
An' syne ye hear a throstle or a redbreast sing an' a saucy blackbird
whustle."

"Could ye tak' a dog?" asked Tammy.

"Ye could that, mannie. It's no' a picnic wi'oot a sonsie doggie to rin
on the brae wi' ye."

"Oh!" Ailie's blue eyes slowly widened in her pallid little face. "But
ye couldna hae a picnic i' the snawy weather."

"Ay, ye could. It's the bonniest of a' when ye're no' expectin' it.
I aye keep a picnic hidden i' the ingleneuk aboon." He suddenly swung
Tammy up on his shoulder, and calling, gaily, "Come awa'," went out
the door, through another beside it, and up a flight of stairs to the
dining-room above. A fire burned there in the grate, the tables were
covered with linen, and there were blooming flowers in pots in the front
windows. Patrons from the University, and the well-to-do streets and
squares to the south and east, made of this upper room a sort of club in
the evenings. At four o'clock in the afternoon there were no guests.

"Noo," said Mr. Traill, when his overcome little guests were seated at
a table in the inglenook. "A picnic is whaur ye hae onything ye fancy
to eat; gude things ye wullna be haein' ilka day, ye mind." He rang a
call-bell, and a grinning waiter laddie popped up so quickly the lassie
caught her breath.

"Eneugh broo for aince," said Tammy.

"Porrid