h, he was out of the
kitchen.

When he had served the early customer, he returned, and sitting down,
drew Annie towards him--between his knees, in fact, and addressed her
with great solemnity.

"Noo, Annie," said he, "ye s' get the day to play yersel'; but ye maun
gang to the school the morn. We can hae no idle fowk i' this hoose, sae
we maun hae nae words aboot it."

Annie was not one to make words about that or anything. She was only
too glad to get away from him. Indeed the prospect of school, after
what she had seen of the economy of her home, was rather enticing. So
she only answered,

"Verra weel, sir. Will I gang the day?"

Whereupon, finding her so tractable, Mr Bruce added, in the tone of one
conferring a great favour, and knowing that he did so,

"Ye can come into the shop for the day, and see what's gaein on. Whan
ye're a muckle woman, ye may be fit to stan' ahin' the coonter some day
yersel'--wha kens?"

Robert Bruce regarded the shop as his Bannockburn, where all his
enemies, namely customers, were to be defeated, that he might be
enriched with their spoils. It was, therefore, a place of so great
interest in his eyes, that he thought it must be interesting to
everybody else. And, indeed, the permission did awake some ill-grounded
expectations in the mind of Annie.

She followed him into the shop, and saw quite a fabulous wealth of good
things around her; of which, however, lest she should put forth her
hand and take, the militant eyes of Robert Bruce never ceased watching
her, with quick-recurring glances, even while he was cajoling some
customer into a doubtful purchase.

Long before dinner-time arrived, she was heartily sick of the monotony
of buying and selling in which she had no share. Not even a
picture-book was taken down from the window for her to look at; so that
she soon ceased to admire even the picture-books--a natural result of
the conviction that they belonged to a sphere above her reach. Mr
Bruce, on the other hand, looked upon them as far below the notice of
his children, although he derived a keen enjoyment from the
transference, by their allurements, of the half-pence of other children
from their pockets into his till.

"Naisty trash o' lees," he remarked, apparently for Annie's behoof, as
he hung the fresh bait up in his window, after two little urchins, with
_bawbees_ to spend, had bought a couple of the radiant results of
literature and art combined. "Naisty trash o' lees-