h the broad river to where
she sat.

"I kent ye a mile aff, Annie," he said.

"I'm glaid to see ye, Curly."

"I wonner gin ye'll be as glaid to see me the neist time, Annie."

Then Annie perceived that Curly looked earnest and anxious.

"What do ye say, Curly?" she returned.

"I hardly ken what I say, Annie, though I ken what I mean. And I dinna
ken what I'm gaun to say neist, but they say the trowth will oot. I
wiss it wad, ohn a body said it."

"What can be the maitter, Curly?"--Annie was getting frightened.--"It
maun be ill news, or ye wadna luik like that."

"I doobt it'll be warst news to them that it's nae news till."

"Ye speyk in riddles, Curly."

He tried to laugh but succeeded badly, and stood before her, with
downcast eyes, poking his thorn-stick into the mass of pebbles. Annie
waited in silence, and that brought it out at last.

"Annie, when we war at the schule thegither, I wad hae gien ye
onything. Noo I hae gien ye a' thing, and my hert to the beet (boot) o'
the bargain."

"Curly!" said Annie, and said no more, for she felt as if her heart
would break.

"I likit ye at the schule, Annie; but noo there's naething i' the warl
but you."

Annie rose gently, came close to him, and laying a hand on his arm,
said,

"I'm richt sorry for ye, Curly."

He half turned his back, was silent for a moment, and then said coldly,
but in a trembling voice,

"Dinna distress yersel'. We canna help it."

"But what'll ye do, Curly?" asked Annie in a tone full of compassionate
loving-kindness, and with her hand still on his arm. "It's sair to
bide."

"Gude kens that.--I maun jist warstle throu' 't like mony anither. I'll
awa' back to the pig-skin saiddle I was workin' at," said Curly, with a
smile at the bitterness of his fate.

"It's no that I dinna like ye, Curly. Ye ken that. I wad do anything
for ye that I cud do. Ye hae been a gude frien' to me."

And here Annie burst out crying.

"Dinna greit. The Lord preserve's! dinna greit. I winna say anither
word aboot it. What's Curly that sic a ane as you sud greit for him?
Faith! it's nearhan' as guid as gin ye lo'ed me. I'm as prood's a
turkey-cock," averred Curly in a voice ready to break with emotion of a
very different sort from pride.

"It's a sair thing that things winna gang richt!" said Annie at last,
after many vain attempts to stop the fountain by drying the stream of
her tears.--I believe they were the first words of complaint upon
things