LITMIR.BIZ

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do to help ye, Alec?"

      "Naething, Annie. Lassies canna saw or plane, ye ken. Ye wad tak' aff yer ain lugs in a jiffey."

      Again she was silent for a long time; and then, with a sigh, she looked up and said:

      "Alec, I'm so cauld!"

      "I'll bring my plaid to row ye in the morn's nicht."

      Annie's heart bounded for joy; for here was what amounted to an express invitation for to-morrow.

      "But," Alec went on, "come wi' me, and we'll sune get ye warm again.

       Gie's yer han'."

      Annie gave Alec her hand; and he lifted her out of her heap of spales, and led her away. She never thought of asking where he was leading her. They had not gone far down the close, when a roaring sound fell upon her ear, growing louder and louder as they went on; till, turning a sharp corner, there they saw the smithy fire. The door of the smithy was open, and they could see the smith at work some distance off. The fire glowed with gathered rage at the impudence of the bellows blowing in its face. The huge smith, with one arm flung affectionately over the shoulder of the insulting party, urged it to the contest; while he stirred up the other to increased ferocity, by poking a piece of iron into the very middle of it. How the angry glare started out of it and stared all the murky smiddy in the face, showing such gloomy holes and corners in it, and such a lot of horse-shoes hung up close to the roof, ready to be fitted for unbelievable horse-wear; and making the smith's face and bare arms glow with a dusky red, like hot metal, as if he were the gnome-king of molten iron. Then he stooped, and took up some coal dust in a little shovel, and patted it down over the fire, and blew stronger than ever, and the sparks flew out with the rage of the fire. Annie was delighted to look at it; but there was a certain fierceness about the whole affair that made her shrink from going nearer; and she could not help feeling a little afraid of the giant smith in particular, with his brawny arms that twisted and tortured iron bars all day long—and his black angry-looking face, that seemed for ever fighting with fire and stiff-necked metal His very look into the forge-fire ought to have been enough to put it out of countenance. Perhaps that was why it was so necessary to keep blowing and poking at it. Again he stooped, caught up a great iron spoon, dipped it into a tub of water, and poured the spoonful on the fire—a fresh insult, at which it hissed and sputtered, like one of the fiery flying serpents of which she had read in her Bible—gigantic, dragon-like creatures to her imagination—in a perfect insanity of fury. But not the slightest motion of her hand lying in Alec's, indicated reluctance, as he led her into the shop, and right up to the wrathful man, saying:

      "Peter Whaup, here's a lassie 'at's 'maist frozen to deid wi' cauld. Will ye tak' her in and lat her stan' by your ingle-neuk, and warm hersel'?"

      "I'll do that, Alec. Come in by, my bairn. What ca' they ye?"

      "Annie Anderson."

      "Ow, ay! I ken a' aboot ye weel eneuch. Ye can lea' her wi' me, Alec;

       I'll luik efter her."

      "I maun gang back to my boat, Annie," said Alec, then, apologetically, "but I'll come in for ye again."

      So Annie was left with the smith, of whom she was not the least afraid, now that she had heard him speak. With his leathern apron, caught up in both hands, he swept a space on the front of the elevated hearth of the forge, clear of cinders and dust, and then, having wiped his hands on the same apron, lifted the girl as tenderly as if she had been a baby, and set her down on this spot, about a yard from the fire, on a level with it; and there she sat, in front of the smith, looking at the fire and the smith and the work he was about, in turns. He asked her a great many questions about herself and the Bruces, and her former life at home; and every question he asked he put in a yet kindlier voice. Sometimes he would stop in the middle of blowing, and lean forward with his arm on the handle of the bellows, and look full in the child's face till she had done answering him, with eyes that shone in the firelight as if the tears would have gathered, but could not for the heat.

      "Ay! ay!" he would say, when she had answered him, and resume his blowing, slowly and dreamily. For this terrible smith's heart was just like his fire. He was a dreadful fellow for fighting and quarrelling when he got a drop too much, which was rather too often, if the truth must be told; but to this little woman-child his ways were as soft and tender as a woman's: he could burn or warm.

      "An' sae ye likit bein' at the ferm best?" he said.

      "Ay. But ye see my father deid—"

      "I ken that, my bairn. The Lord haud a grip o' ye!"

      It was not often that Peter Whaup indulged in a pious ejaculation. But this was a genuine one, and may be worth recording for the sake of Annie's answer:

      "I'm thinkin' he hauds a grip o' us a', Mr. Whaup."

      And then she told him the story about the rats and the cat; for hardly a day passed just at this time without her not merely recalling it, but reflecting upon it. And the smith drew the back of his hand across both his eyes when she had done, and then pressed them both hard with the thumb and forefinger of his right hand, as if they ached, while his other arm went blowing away as if nothing was the matter but plenty of wind for the forge-fire. Then he pulled out the red-hot gad, or iron bar, which he seemed to have forgotten ever since Annie came in, and, standing with his back to her to protect her from the sparks, put it on his anvil, and began to lay on it, as if in a fury; while the sparks flew from his blows as if in mortal terror of the angry man that was pelting at the luminous glory laid thus submissive before him. In fact, Peter was attempting to hammer out more things than one, upon that study of his; for in Scotland they call a smith's anvil a study, so that he ranks with other artists in that respect. Then, as if anxious to hear the child speak yet again, he said, putting the iron once more in the fire, and proceeding to rouse the wrath of the coals:

      "Ye kent Jeames Dow, than?"

      "Ay; weel that. I kent Dooie as weel as Broonie."

      "Wha was Broonie?"

      "Ow! naebody but my ain coo."

      "An' Jeames was kin' to ye?"

      To this question no reply followed; but Peter, who stood looking at her, saw her lips and the muscles of her face quivering an answer, which if uttered at all, could come only in sobs and tears.

      But the sound of approaching steps and voices restored her equanimity, and a listening look gradually displaced the emotion on her countenance. Over the half-door of the shop appeared two men, each bearing on his shoulder the socks (shares) of two ploughs, to be sharpened, or set. The instant she saw them she tumbled off her perch, and before they had got the door opened was half way to it, crying, "Dooie! Dooie!" Another instant and she was lifted high in Dowie's arms.

      "My little mistress!" exclaimed he, kissing her. "Hoo cam ye here?"

      "I'm safe eneuch here, Dooie; dinna be fleyt. I'll tell ye a' aboot it.

       Alec's in George Macwha's shop yonner."

      "And wha's Alec?" asked Dowie.

      Leaving them now to their private communications, I will relate, for the sake of its result, what passed between James Dow's companion and the smith.

      "The last time," said the youth, "that ye set my sock, Peter Whaup, ye turned it oot jist as saft's potty, and it wore oot raither suner."

      "Hoot! man, ye mistak. It wasna the sock. It was the heid that cam' ahin' 't, and kentna hoo to haud it aff o' the stanes."

      "Ha! ha! ha! My heid's nae sae saft's yer ain. It's no rosten a' day like yours, till it's birstled (scorched) and sung (singed) like a sheep's. Jist gie me a haud o' the taings, an' I s' set my sock to my ain min'."

      Peter gave up the tongs at once, and the young fellow proceeded to put the share in the fire, and to work the bellows.

      "Ye'll never mak ony thing o' 't that gait," said Peter, as he took the tongs from his hand, and altered the position of the share for him. "Ye wad hae 'it black upo' ae side and white upo' the ither. Noo

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