They'll hae a dreary winter o't,
breaking their hearts for me--their ballants and their stories will never
be sae funny again--and my heart is breaking for them."

With this, the tears prap-prapped down his cheeks, but his pride bade him
turn his head round to hide them from me. A heart of stone would have
felt for him.

I saw it was in vain to persist long, as the laddie was falling out of
his clothes as fast as leaves from the November tree; so I wrote home by
limping Jamie the carrier, telling his father the state of things, and
advising him, as a matter of humanity, to take his son out to the free
air of the hills again, as the town smoke did not seem to agree with his
stomach; and, as he might be making a sticked tailor of one who was
capable of being bred a good farmer; no mortal being likely to make a
great progress in any thing, unless the heart goes with the handiwork.

Some folks will think I acted right, and others wrong in this matter; if
I erred, it was on the side of mercy, and my conscience does not upbraid
me for the transaction. In due course of time, I had an answer from Mr
Glen; and we got every thing ready and packed up, against the hour that
Jamie was to set out again.

Mungo got himself all dressed; and Benjie had taken such a liking to him,
that I thought he would have grutten himself senseless when he heard he
was going away back to his own home. One would not have imagined, that
such a sincere friendship could have taken root in such a short time; but
the bit creature Benjie was as warm-hearted a callant as ye ever saw.
Mungo told him, that if he would not cry he would send him in a present
of a wee ewe-milk cheese whenever he got home; which promise pacified
him, and he asked me if Benjie would come out for a month gin simmer,
when he would let him see all worthy observation along the country side.

When we had shaken hands with Mungo, and, after fastening his comforter
about his neck, wished him a good journey, we saw him mounted on the
front of limping Jamie's cart; and, as he drove away, I must confess my
heart was grit. I could not help running up the stair, and pulling up
the fore-window to get a long look after him. Away, and away they wore;
in a short time, the cart took a turn and disappeared; and, when I drew
down the window, and sauntered, with my arms crossed, back to the
workshop, something seemed amissing, and the snug wee place, with its
shapings, and runds, and paper-me