adna time to mak' ower it. So
there they had to sit on the tap o' a thorn-bush in the meadow on their
hunkers, wi' the dogs fair loupin' an' yowlin' to get haud o' them. Then
I cam' doon mysel' an' garred them turn every pooch inside oot. He
minded, too, that I was for hingin' them baith up by the heels, till
what they had etten followed what had been in their pooches. A' this he
telled juist as he did when he used to come ower to hae a bar wi' the
lassies, in the forenichts after he cam' hame frae the college the first
year. But the lad was laughin' a' the time in a way I didna like. It
wasna natural--something hard an' frae the teeth oot, as ye micht
say--maist peetifu' in a callant like him, wi' the deid-licht shinin'
already in the blue een o' him."

"D'ye no' mind, Saunders, o' him comin' hame frae the college wi' a
hantle o' medals an' prizes?" said Rob Adair, breaking in as if he felt
that he must contribute his share to the memories which shortened, if
they did not cheer, their road. "His faither was rael prood o' him,
though it wasna his way to say muckle. But his mither could talk aboot
naething else, an' carriet his picture aboot wi' her a' ower the pairish
in her wee black retical basket. Fegs, a gipsy wife gat a saxpence juist
for speerin' for a sicht o' it, and cryin', 'Blessings on the laddie's
bonny face!'"

"Weel," continued Saunders, imperturbably taking up the thread of his
narrative amid the blattering of the snow, "I let the lad rin on i' this
way for a while, an' then says I, 'Walter, ye dinna ask after yer
faither!'

"'No, I don't,' says he, verra short. 'Nell, gie me the draught.' So wi'
that the lassie gied her een a bit quick dab, syne cam' forrit, an'
pittin' her airm aneath his heid she gied him a drink. Whatever it was,
it quaitened him, an' he lay back tired-like.

"'Weel,' said I, after a wee, 'Walter, gin ye'll no' speer for yer
faither, maybe ye'll speer for yer ain mither?'

"Walter Anderson turned his heid to the wa'. 'Oh, my mither! my ain
mither!' he said, but I could hardly hear him sayin' it. Then more
fiercely than he had yet spoken he turned on me an' said, 'Wha sent ye
here to torment me before my time?'

* * * * *

"I saw young Walter juist yince mair in life. I stepped doon to see him
the next mornin' when the end was near. He was catchin' and twitchin' at
the coverlet, liftin' up his hand an' lookin' at it as though it was
somebody else