ut with disconsolation deeply impressed
on his dirty young face.

"Eh, laddie, what's wrang?" exclaimed the Scot, his mind reverting
anxiously, and strangely enough, to the "waux doll."

"O, Mr Laidlow" exclaimed the boy.

"Na, na," interrupted David, "I'm no laid _low_ yet, though the Lun'on
folk hae done their best to bring me t' that condeetion. My name's
Laid-law, laddie. Freen's ca' me David, an' ye may do the same; but for
ony sake dinna use that English D_ai_vid. I canna thole that. Use the
lang, braid, Bible a. But what's the maitter wi' ye?"

"Well, Mr Da-a-a-vid," returned the boy, unable to resist a touch of
fun even in his distress, "they've bin an' dismissed our Susy, wot's as
good as gold; so she's hout o' work, and chimley-pot Liz she's fit to
break 'er hold 'art, 'cause she ain't able to earn enough now to pay the
rent of 'er room, an' the landlord, what's a lawyer, 'e is, says two
weeks' rent is overdue, and 'e'll turn 'er hout into the street
to-morrer if it's not paid."

"That's bad news, Tammy," said Laidlaw, thrusting both hands into his
pockets, and looking meditatively at the ground. "But why doesna Sam
Blake, the waux--, I mean Susy's faither, lend them the siller?"

"'Cause he's gone to Liverpool for somethink or other about 'is wessel,
an' left no address, an' won't be back for two or three days, an' the
old ooman ain't got a friend on 'arth--leastwise not a rich 'un who can
'elp 'er."

"Hoots, laddie, ye're wrang! _I_ can help her."

"Ah, but," said the boy, still in tones of disconsolation, "you don't
know chimley-pot Liz. She's proud, she is, an' won't take nuffin from
strangers."

"Weel, weel, but I'm no'--a stranger, callant."

"I rather think you are!" replied the boy, with a knowing look.

"Ye may be richt. Weel, I'll no' gi'e them the chance to refuse.
What's the name of the lawyer-body that's their landlord?"

"Lockhart. John would be 'is Christian name if 'e _wos_ a Christian.
But a cove with a Christian name as is _not_ a Christian do seem an
absurdity--don't it? They say 'e's about the greatest willian out o'
Newgate. An' 'is office is somewhere near Chancery Lane."

"Weel, Christian or no Christian, I'll gi'e him a ca'," said David; "are
they up there enow?" he added, with a significant motion of his head
towards the garden on the roof.

"Yes, both of 'em--'owling. I couldn't stand it, so came down 'ere to
veep alone."

"Weel, ye better stop where ye