one shilling in coppers, for he
took up the collection in church the day pefore, and it wass not till
Tougal had gone away that the jailer saw that one of the coppers was a
Brock copper,--a medal, you will understand, made at General Brock's
death, and not lawful money of Canada at all. With that the jailer
came out to my grandfather.

"'Mr. McTavish,' says he, taking off his hat, 'you are a free man, and
I'm glad of it.' Then he told him what Tougal had done.

"'I hope you will not have any hard feelings toward me, Mr. McTavish,'
said the jailer; and a decent man he wass, for all that there wass not
a drop of Hielan' blood in him. 'I hope you will not think hard of me
for not being hospitable to you, sir,' says he; 'but it's against the
rules and regulations for the jailer to be offering the best he can
command to the prisoners. Now that you are free, Mr. McTavish,' says
the jailer, 'I would be a proud man if Mr. McTavish of Glengatchie
would do me the honor of taking supper with me this night. I will be
asking your leave to invite some of the gentlemen of the place, if you
will say the word, Mr. McTavish,' says he.

"Well, my grandfather could never bear malice, the kind man he was,
and he seen how bad the jailer felt, so he consented, and a great
company came in, to be sure, to celebrate the occasion.

"Did my grandfather pay the balance on the plough? What for should you
suspicion, sir, that my grandfather would refuse his honest debt? Of
course he paid for the plough, for the crop was good that fall.

"'I would be paying you the other half of the plough now, Mr.
Stewart,' says my grandfather, coming in when the store was full.

"'Hoich, but YOU are the honest McTavish!' says Tougal, sneering.

"But my grandfather made no answer to the creature, for he thought it
would be unkind to mention how Tougal had paid out six pounds four
shillings and eleven pence to keep him in on account of a debt of two
pound five that never was due till it was paid."

McGRATH'S BAD NIGHT.

"Come then, childer," said Mrs. McGrath, and took the big iron pot
off. They crowded around her, nine of them, the eldest not more than
thirteen, the youngest just big enough to hold out his yellow crockery
bowl.

"The youngest first," remarked Mrs. McGrath, and ladled out a portion
of the boiled corn-meal to each of the deplorable boys and girls.
Before they reached the stools from which they had sprung up, or
squatted again on th