[H]e heard a child's voice in the hollow, exclaiming, "Come on, ye muckle brute! ye had as weel come on! I'll gar ye ! I'll gar ye ! That's a gude beast now; come awa! That's it! Ay, ye're a gude beast now."
As the last words were uttered, a little fellow, of about ten years of age, was seen issuing from the hollow, and pulling after him, with all his might, a great long-backed clumsy animal of the horse species, though apparently of a very mulish temper.
"You have met with a sad accident," said Mr. Stewart; "how did all this happen?"
"You may see how it happened, plain eneugh ," returned the boy; "the brig brak , and the cart couppet ."
"And did you and the horse coup likewise?" said Mr. Stewart.
"O aye , we a' couppet thegether , for I was riding on his back."
"And where is your father and all the rest of the folk?"
" Whar sud they be but in the hayfield? Dinna ye ken that we're takin' in our hay? John Tamson's and Jamie Forster's was in a wook syne , but we're ay ahint the lave ."

"If you remember, the last time I passed this road, which was several months since, I then told you that the bridge was in danger, and shewed you how easily it might be repaired?"
"It is a' true," said the farmer, moving his bonnet; "but I thought it would do weel eneugh . I spoke to Jamie Forster and John Tamson about it; but they said they wad na fash themselves to mend a brig that was to serve a' the folk in the Glen."
"But you must now mend it for your own sake," said Mr. Stewart, "even though a' the folk in the Glen should be the better for it."

She welcomed Mrs. Mason and her friends with great kindness, and made many apologies for being in no better order to receive them; but said that both her guidman and her thought that her cuisine would have staid at Gowan-brae till after the fair, as they were too far off Glenburnie to think of going to it; though it would, to be sure, be only natural for Mrs. Mason to like to see all the grand sights that were to be seen there; for, to be sure, she would gang many places before she would see the like. Mrs Mason smiled, and assured her she would have more pleasure in looking at the fine view from her door than in all the sights at the fair.
"Ay, it's a bonny piece of corn to be sure, " returned Mrs MacClarty, with great simplicity; "but then, what with the trees, and rocks, and wimplings o' the burn , we have nae room to make parks of ony size."

"You have a noble stock of linen, cousin," said Mrs Mason. "Few farmers houses in England could produce the like; but I think this rather too fine for common use."
"For common use!" cried Mrs MacClarty; " na, na we're no sic fools as put our napery to use! I have a dizen tableclaiths in that press, therty years old, that were never laid upon a table. They a' o' my mother's spinning. I have nine o' my ain makin forby , that never saw the sun but at the bookin washing. Ye needna be telling us o' England!"

"Ilka place has just its ain gait," said the goodwife ; "and ye needna think that ever we'll learn your's. And indeed , to be plain wi' you, cousin, I think you have owre mony fykes . There did na' ye keep Grizzy for mair than twa hours yesterday morning, soopin' and dusting your room in every corner, and cleaning out the twa bits o' buird , that are for naething but to set your feet on after a' ."
"But did you know how dirty they were ?" said Mrs Mason.
"Hoot! the chickens just got their meat on them for twa or three ouks , poor wee beasties ! the buirds war a wee thought clarted wi' parritch , but it was weel dried on, and ye wadna' been a bit the war ." "But are the boards the worse for being scoured ?" asked Mrs Mason; "or would they have been the worse, if they had been scoured when you took them from the chickens, or, while they were feeding on them?"
"O, to be sure it wad ha been an easy matter to ha' scour't them then, if we had thought of being at the fash ," returned Mrs MacClarty.
"In my opinion," rejoined Mrs Mason, " this fear of being fashed is the great bar to all improvement. I have seen this morning, that you are not afraid of work, for you have exerted yourself with a degree of activity that no one could excel; yet you dread the small additional trouble that would make your house chearful, clean, and comfortable. You dread the trouble of attention, more than the labour of your hands; and thus, if I mistake not, you often bring upon yourself trouble, which timely attention would have spared. Would it not be well to have your children taught such habits of attention and regularity, as would make you more easy, and them more useful, both to themselves and you?"
"As for my bairns ," returned Mrs MacClarty, "if they pleasure me, they do weel eneugh ."
"There's a great spice o' good sense in what Mrs Mason has said though," said the farmer; "but its no easy for folk like us to be put out o' their ain gait."

"Are ye no awa yet, bairns ! I never saw the like. Sic a fight to get you to the schul ! Nae wonder ye learn little, when you'r at it. Gae awa , like good bairns ; for there's nae schulin the morn, ye ken , its the fair day."
Meg set off after some farther parley; but Jean continued to catch the flies at the window, taking no notice of her mother's exhortations, though again repeated in pretty nearly the same terms. "Dear me!" said the mother, " what's the matter wi' the bairn ! What for winna ye gang , when Meg's gane ? Rin , and ye'll be after her or she wins to the end o' the loan ."
" I'm no ga'an the day ," says Jean, turning away her face. "And whatfore are no ye ga'an , my dear?" says her mother. " Cause I hinna gotten my questions," replied Jean. "O but ye may gang for a' that," said. her mother; "the maister will no be angry. Gang , like a gude bairn ."
" Na ," said Jean, "but he will be angry, for I did na get them the last time either."
"And whatfore did na ye get them, my dear," said Mrs MacClarty, in a soothing tone. " Cause 'twas unco kittle , and I cou'd na be fash'd ; replied the hopeful girl.

While musing on this subject, as she sat by her window in the twilight, she saw the two younger lads run hastily past; and soon heard from their mother such an exclamation of sorrow, as convinced her they had been the messengers of bad news. She therefore speedily proceeded but ,* and there she found the poor woman wringing her hands, and lamenting herself bitterly. The farmer entered at the same moment; and on seeing him, she redoubled her lamentations, still calling out, " O Sandy! Sandy! O, that I should ha' lived to see this day! O Sandy! Sandy!"
*The English reader is referred to Horne Tooke for the etymology of this word.

"Ay," said the father, sighing; "its just the way wi' ye a' ! ye just do what ye like yoursels ! Now, see what comes o' it! Here's Sandy done for himsel' we a vengeance! He, too, wad do naething but what he liked! see what he'll mak o' it now, but to be tied up to a stake, and lashed like a dog! a disgrace, as he is, to us a' ! I wou'd rather he had ne'er been born!"
" Alace ! gudeman ," cried the poor mother, weeping bitterly; " alake ! hae pity on me, and try to get him aff ."
"It will do nae gude ," says her husband, in a softened accent, and wiping a tear which stole down his cheek, "it will do nae gude , I tell ye . We shall never have comfort in him while we live, for he is ane that will never be advised. Ye ken he never minds a word we say—yet I canna think o' his being made a reprobate."

"Are ye no awa yet, bairns ! I never saw the like. Sic a fight to get you to the schul ! Nae wonder ye learn little, when you'r at it. Gae awa , like good bairns ; for there's nae schulin the morn, ye ken , its the fair day."
Meg set off after some farther parley; but Jean continued to catch the flies at the window, taking no notice of her mother's exhortations, though again repeated in pretty nearly the same terms. "Dear me!" said the mother, " what's the matter wi' the bairn ! What for winna ye gang , when Meg's gane ? Rin , and ye'll be after her or she wins to the end o' the loan ."
" I'm no ga'an the day ," says Jean, turning away her face. "And whatfore are no ye ga'an , my dear?" says her mother. " Cause I hinna gotten my questions," replied Jean. "O but ye may gang for a' that," said. her mother; "the maister will no be angry. Gang , like a gude bairn ."
" Na ," said Jean, "but he will be angry, for I did na get them the last time either."
"And whatfore did na ye get them, my dear," said Mrs MacClarty, in a soothing tone. " Cause 'twas unco kittle , and I cou'd na be fash'd ; replied the hopeful girl.

While musing on this subject, as she sat by her window in the twilight, she saw the two younger lads run hastily past; and soon heard from their mother such an exclamation of sorrow, as convinced her they had been the messengers of bad news. She therefore speedily proceeded but ,* and there she found the poor woman wringing her hands, and lamenting herself bitterly. The farmer entered at the same moment; and on seeing him, she redoubled her lamentations, still calling out, " O Sandy! Sandy! O, that I should ha' lived to see this day! O Sandy! Sandy!"
*The English reader is referred to Horne Tooke for the etymology of this word.

"Ilka place has just its ain gait," said the goodwife ; "and ye needna think that ever we'll learn your's. And indeed , to be plain wi' you, cousin, I think you have owre mony fykes . There did na' ye keep Grizzy for mair than twa hours yesterday morning, soopin' and dusting your room in every corner, and cleaning out the twa bits o' buird , that are for naething but to set your feet on after a' ."
"But did you know how dirty they were ?" said Mrs Mason.
"Hoot! the chickens just got their meat on them for twa or three ouks , poor wee beasties ! the buirds war a wee thought clarted wi' parritch , but it was weel dried on, and ye wadna' been a bit the war ." "But are the boards the worse for being scoured ?" asked Mrs Mason; "or would they have been the worse, if they had been scoured when you took them from the chickens, or, while they were feeding on them?"
"O, to be sure it wad ha been an easy matter to ha' scour't them then, if we had thought of being at the fash ," returned Mrs MacClarty.
"In my opinion," rejoined Mrs Mason, " this fear of being fashed is the great bar to all improvement. I have seen this morning, that you are not afraid of work, for you have exerted yourself with a degree of activity that no one could excel; yet you dread the small additional trouble that would make your house chearful, clean, and comfortable. You dread the trouble of attention, more than the labour of your hands; and thus, if I mistake not, you often bring upon yourself trouble, which timely attention would have spared. Would it not be well to have your children taught such habits of attention and regularity, as would make you more easy, and them more useful, both to themselves and you?"
"As for my bairns ," returned Mrs MacClarty, "if they pleasure me, they do weel eneugh ."
"There's a great spice o' good sense in what Mrs Mason has said though," said the farmer; "but its no easy for folk like us to be put out o' their ain gait."

"Ay," said the father, sighing; "its just the way wi' ye a' ! ye just do what ye like yoursels ! Now, see what comes o' it! Here's Sandy done for himsel' we a vengeance! He, too, wad do naething but what he liked! see what he'll mak o' it now, but to be tied up to a stake, and lashed like a dog! a disgrace, as he is, to us a' ! I wou'd rather he had ne'er been born!"
" Alace ! gudeman ," cried the poor mother, weeping bitterly; " alake ! hae pity on me, and try to get him aff ."
"It will do nae gude ," says her husband, in a softened accent, and wiping a tear which stole down his cheek, "it will do nae gude , I tell ye . We shall never have comfort in him while we live, for he is ane that will never be advised. Ye ken he never minds a word we say—yet I canna think o' his being made a reprobate."

The neighbours, with whom she had cultivated the greatest intimacy, encouraged this dislike; and, on all their visits of condolence, expressed, in feeling terms, their sense of the sad change that had taken place in the appearance of the house, which they said was "now sae unco , they wad scarcely ken it for the same place."
"Ay!" exclaimed the wife of auld John Smith, who happened to visit the widow the first evening she was able to sit up to tea; "ay, alake ! it's weel seen, that whar there's new lairds there's new laws. But how can your woman and your bairns put up wi' a' this fashery ?"
"I kenna , truly," replied the widow; "but Mrs Mason has just sic a way wi' them, she gars them do ony thing she likes. Ye may think it is an eery thing to me, to see my poor bairns submitting that way to pleasure a stranger in a' her nonsense."
"An eery thing, indeed!" said Mrs Smith; " gif ye had but seen how she gard your dochter Meg clean out the kirn ! outside and inside! ye wad hae been wae for the poor lassie . I trow , said I, Meg, it wad ha' been lang before your mither had set you to sic a turn . Ay, says she, we have new gaits now; and she lookit up, and leugh . "
"New gaits , I trow ! cried Sandy Johnstone's mother, who had just taken her place at the tea-table; "I ne'er kend gude come o' new gaits a' my days. There was Tibby Bell, at the head o' the Glen, she fell to cleaning her kirn ae day, and the very first kirning after, her butter was burstet , and gude for naething , I am sure it gangs to my heart to see your wark sae managed. It was but the day before yesterday, that I cam upon madam, as she was baddin the strainer, as she called it , to Grizzy, desiring her a' the time she poured the milk, to beware of letting in ane o' the cow's hairs that were on her goon . Hoot , says I, cows hairs are canny , they'll never choak ye "— "The fewer of them that are in the butter the better!" says she. " Twa or three hairs are better than the blink o' an ill ee ," says I. "The best charm against witchcraft is cleanliness," says she. "I doubt it muckle , " says I; " auld ways are aye the best!"
" Weel done!" cried Mrs Smith; "I trow ye gae her a screed o' your mind! But here comes Grizzy frae the market; let us hear what she says to it."
Grizzel advanced to her mistress, and with alacrity poured into her lap the money she had got for her cheese and butter; proudly at the same time observing, that it was more by some shillings than they had ever got for the produce of one week before that lucky day.
"What say you?" cried the wife of auld John Smith; "are the markets sae muckle risen? That's gude news indeed!"
"I did na say that the markets were risen," returned the maid; "but we never got sae muckle for our butter, nor our cheese, by a penny i' the pund weight, as I got the day. A' the best folks in the town were striving for it. I cou'd ha' seld twice as muckle at the same price." " Ye had need to be weel paid for it," said Sandy Johnstone's mother, "for I fear ye had but sma' quantity to sell."
"We never had sae muckle in ane week before," said Grizzy; "for you see," continued she, "the milk used aye to sour before it had stood half its time; but noo the milk dishes are a' sae clean, that it keeps sweet to the last."
"And dinna ye think muckle o' the fash? " said Mrs Smith.
"I thought muckle o't at first," returned Grizzy; "but when I got into the way o't, I fand it nae trouble at a' ."
"But how do ye find time to get thro' sae muckle wark ?" said the widow Johnstone.
"I never," answered Grizzy, "got thro' my wark sae easy in my life;—for ye see Mrs Mason has just a set time for ilka turn; so that folk are never rinning in ane anithers gait ; and every thing is set by clean, ye see , so that its just ready for use.
" She maun hae an unco airt ," said Mrs MacClarty, "to gar ye do sae muckle , and think sae little o't. I'm sure ye ken how you used to grumble at being put to do far less. But I did na bribe ye wi' haff-croon pieces, as she does."
"It's no the haff-croon she gae me, that gars me speak," cried Grizzy; but I sal always sae , that she is a most discreet and civil person, ay , and ane that taks a pleesur in doing gude . I am sure, mistress, she has done mair gude to you, than ye can e'er repay, gif ye were to live this hunder year."
"I sal ne'er say that she has na been very kind," returned Mrs MacClarty; "but thank the Lord, a' body has shewn kindness as weel as her. Its no lessning o' her to say, that we hae other freends forby ."
" Freends !" repeated Grizzy, "What hae a' your freends done for you, in comparison wi' what she has done, and is e'now doing for you! Aye , just e'now , while I am speaking--But I forget that she charged me no to tell."