ight. Before he could say anything she added, "Come awa' noo', if ye
ha'e gotten yer denner, son, I think ye should gang awa' to yer bed.
Ye'll be the better o' a lang sleep. Dinna' think hard o' yer faither;
he's feelin' ashamed o' hittin' ye. There must be something botherin'
him, for I dinna' mind o' him ever leatherin' one o' ye like that."

This was true, for Geordie Sinclair was rather a "cannie" man, and had
never been given to beating his children before. She felt that something
had happened in the pit, and whatever it was it had made her husband
angry.

Robert again stripped off his clothes and crept into bed, while his
mother seemed to feel every pain once more as she looked upon the soft
little body with the ugly black stripes upon it. She placed him under
the rough blankets as snugly as possible, telling him to lie well over
near to the wall, for there were five of them now who lay abreast, and
there was never too much room. He was soon asleep, and Mrs. Sinclair put
fresh coals on the fire, and began to tidy up, so as to have everything
as cheerful as possible when her husband should return. It was no easy
matter to keep a house clean, with only a single apartment, and eight
individuals living in it.

The housing conditions in most mining villages of Scotland are an
outrage on decency. In Lowwood there were no sanitary conveniences of
any kind, and it was a difficult matter for the women folk to keep a
tidy house under these circumstances. But it was wonderful, the
homeliness and comfort found in those single apartment houses. It was
home, and that made it tolerable. In such homes fine men and women were
bred and reared, but the credit was due entirely to our womenfolk; for
they had the fashioning of the spirit of the homes, and the spirit of
the homes is always the spirit of the people.

CHAPTER VI

THE COMING OF A PROPHET

Another year passed, and Robert was now eleven years of age. Though full
of hardship, hunger and poverty, yet they were not altogether unhappy
years for him. There were joys which he would not have liked to have
missed, and in later life he looked back upon them always through a mist
of memory that sometimes bordered on tears.

He had grown "in wisdom and stature," and gave promise of being a fine
sturdy boy; but lately it had been borne in upon him that no one seemed
just to look at things from his point of view. He was alluded to as "a
strange laddie," and the gulf of m