she has been to me, even to this day.

"It was now that I began the world in good earnest. But though my wife was
an active woman, I was still the same simple, easy-imposed-upon sort o'
being that I had always been. Every rogue in the country-side very soon
became acquainted wi' my disposition. I had no reason to complain of my
business; for orders poured in upon me faster than I was able to supply
them. Only, somehow or other--and I thought it very strange--money didna
come in so fast as the orders. My wife said to me--'This trade will never
do, Nicholas--ye will gang on trust, trusting, until ye trust yoursel' to
the door. Therefore, do as I advise ye, and look after the siller.'

"'O my dear,' said I, 'they are good customers, and I canna offend them for
the sake o' a few pounds. I have no doubt but they are safe enough.

"'Safe or no safe,' quoth she, 'get ye your accounts settled. Their siller
will do as meikle for ye as their custom. Take a woman's advice for once,
and remember, that, 'short accounts make long friends.' Look ye after your
money.'

"I couldna but confess that there was a great deal o' truth in what Mrs
Middlemiss (that is my wife) said to me. But I had not her turn for doing
things. I could not be so sharp wi' folk, had it been to save my life. I
never could affront onybody in my days. Yet I often wished that I could
take her advice; for I saw people getting deeper and deeper into my books,
without the prospect o' payment being made more manifest. Under such
circumstances I began to think wi' her, that their siller would be as good
as their custom--the one was not much worth without the other.

"But, just to give ye a few instances o' my simplicity:--I was walking, on
a summer evening, as my custom was, about a mile out o' the town, when I
overtook a Mr Swanston, a very respectable sort o' man, a neighbour, and an
auld acquaintance, who appeared to be in very great tribulation. I think,
indeed, that I never saw a fellow-creature in such visible distress. His
countenance was perfectly wofu', and he was wringing his hands like a body
dementit.

"'Preserve us, Mr Swanston!' says I, 'what's the matter wi' ye?--has
onything happened?'

"'Oh! happened!' said he; 'I'm a ruined man!--I wish that I had never been
born!--that I had never drawn breath in this world o' villany! I believe
I'll do some ill to mysel'.'

"'Dear me, Mr Swanston!' quoth I, 'I'm sorry to hear ye talk so. It is very
unchristi