oftly about the
kitchen in the darkness, which the oil-lamp that hung high above the
hearth hardly dispelled. When she had done what could be done at that
hour within the house, there was something to do outside. For cripple
Sandy, whose duty it was to care for the creatures, did not hurry
himself in the winter mornings; and Allison, who knew their wants and
their ways, and who all her life had had to do with the gentle creatures
at home, would not let them suffer from neglect. By the dim light of
the lantern hung from the roof, she milked the cows and fed them, and
let in the welcome light upon the cocks and hens; and went to all
corners of the place, seeing at a glance where a touch of her hand was
needed. And she was conscious of a certain pleasure in it after a time.

Then there was the house "to redd up," and the porridge to make, for the
elder lads had to set out early to their school, and their breakfast
must be over when their father came down to have worship before they
went away. Then came the parlour breakfast, and then the things were to
be put away, and dinner-time was at hand, and so on till the day was
over. Truly there was enough to do, washing and ironing, cleaning and
cooking, coming and going--the constant woman's work which is never
done.

As for the cooking, there was no time for the making of dainty dishes in
the manse, even if there had been no better reason for dispensing with
them. Oatmeal was the staple of the house, of course--the food which
has made bone and muscle for so many who stand in high places on both
sides of the sea. There was the invariable porridge in the morning,
supplemented by the equally invariable cakes. Not the sweet morsels
which the name may suggest to some folk--but, broad discs of meal and
water, cut into quarters for the sake of convenience, and baked on a
griddle--solid but wholesome.

There was a variety of them. There were soft cakes, and crisp cakes,
and thick bannocks, and sometimes there were "scones" of barley-meal.
The "loaf-bread" came from the baker's; so did the rare buns and baps,
and the rarer short-bread for great and special occasions. Beef and
mutton were not for everyday use. They had fowls and they had fish of
the best, for in those days the London market did not devour all that
the sea produced, and the fishwives tramped inland many miles, with
their creels on their backs, glad to sell their fish to the country
folk. They had soup ofte