l
eneuch."

"Mr Cupples, I'm nae elder brither i' that sense. God kens I wad gang
oot to lat him in."

"What ken ye aboot him, gin it be a fair queston?"

"I hae kent him, sir, sin he was a bairn. I perilled his life--no my
ain--to gar him do his duty. I trust in God it wad hae been easier for
me to hae perilled my ain. Sae ye see I do ken aboot him."

"Weel," said Mr Cupples, to whom the nature of Thomas had begun to open
itself, "I alloo that. Whaur do ye bide? What's yer name? I'll come and
see ye the morn's nicht, gin ye'll lat me."

"My name's Thomas Crann. I'm a stonemason. Speir at Robert Bruce's
chop, and they'll direc ye to whaur I bide. Ye may come the morn's
nicht, and welcome. Can ye sup parritch?"

"Ay, weel that."

"My Jean's an extrornar han' at parritch. I only houp puir Esau had
half as guid for's birthricht. Ye'll hae a drappy wi' me?"

"Wi' a' my hert," answered Cupples.

And here their ways diverged.

When he reached home, he asked Annie about Thomas. Annie spoke of him
in the highest terms, adding,

"I'm glaid ye like him, Mr Cupples."

"I dinna think, wi' sic an opingon o' 'm, it can maitter muckle to you
whether I like him or no," returned Mr Cupples, looking at her
quizzically.

"Na, nae muckle as regairds him. But it says weel for you, ye ken, Mr
Cupples," replied Annie archly.

Mr Cupples laughed good-humouredly, and said,

"Weel, I s' gang and see him the morn's nicht, ony gait."

And so he did. And the porridge and the milk were both good.

"This is heumble fare, Mr Cupples," said Thomas.

"It maitters little compairateevely what a man lives upo'," said
Cupples sententiously, "sae it be first-rate o' 'ts ain kin'. And this
_is_ first-rate."

"Tak' a drappy mair, sir."

"Na, nae mair, I thank ye."

"They'll be left, gin ye dinna."

"Weel, sen' them ower to Mr Bruce," said Cupples, with a sly wink. "I
s' warran' he'll coup them ower afore they sud be wastit. He canna bide
waste."

"Weel, that's a vertue. The Saviour himsel' garred them gaither up the
fragments."

"Nae doobt. But I'm feared Bruce wad hae coontit the waste by hoo mony
o' the baskets gaed by his door. I'm surprised at ye, Mr Crann, tryin'
to defen' sic a meeserable crater, jist 'cause he gangs to your kirk."

"Weel, he is a meeserable crater, and I canna bide him. He's jist a
Jonah in oor ship, an Achan in oor camp. But I sudna speyk sae to ane
that's no a member."

"Never ye min'. I'm auld ene