Between You and Me

was much philosophy in Mac. He was a kindly man, for a' his quick temper; I never knew a kinder. And he taught me much that's been usefu'

the funny, sidesplitting happenings saved themselves up till he was aboot to help to mak' them merrier. I was the comedia

rld owed him a living, and that his mission was but to collect it. Why it is that men like that never see that it' not the worl

g to mind, Mac and I were separated for a nicht. I found a lodging for the night wi' an aged couple who had a w

hocht they were just lettin' me a bit room and gie'n me bit and sup for siller. 'Deed, an' that's what I like fine about the Scots folk. They're a' full o' kindness o' that sort. There's something hamely aboot a Scots hotel ye'll

hem as a typical old Scottish couple, spending the twilight years of their lives at hame and in peace. They micht be alane, I thocht,

i' our talk, when a door burst open, and

ed. "Granny-is there no a piece for

they saw me, and

ead wi' gude, hame made jam. Then they were off again, scampering off toward the river. I couldna help wonderin' ab

on," I said, for the sa

n bed and sound asleep, we all sat aboot the kitchen fire. And then it seemed the auld lady was minded to talk, and I was glad enow to listen. For ane thing I've always liked to hear the stories folk ha' in their lives. And then, tae, I know from my ane experience, how it eases

l'. It was our dochter Lizzie bore them. A fine lassie, if I do say so. She's in service the noo at

uir mither was no deed; it was hard enough, wi' such bonny bairns,

we knew nothing bad enough aboot him to forbid her tak' him. He was a handsome lad, and a clever yin. Everyone liked him fine, forbye they distrusted him, too. But he always said he'd never had a chance. He t

d men like that. And they've had chances you and I wad ha' gie'n whatever we had for

as gude as' any girl. And so what did they do but tak' all the savings of their lives, twa hundred pounds

e were all sae happy, syne it seemed we'd been richt in backing him, for a' the neighbors had called us fools. But then misfortune laid sair hands upo

and his bairns, as they came along, to live wi' us. We were old. We'd worked hard all our lives. We'd gie'n him a' we had. Wad ye no think he'd have gone t

find it for him. So it went on, for the years, till, in the end, we gied him twenty pounds more we'd put awa' for a rainy day that he micht

sons and dochters of gentlefolk. And we-weel, we say nowt to shake her. She maybe happier thinking so, and it's a sair hard time she's had, puir lass. D'ye mind the wee lassie th

' and the clothin' o' all that broo

t them. They brichten up the hoose it'd be dull' and drear wi'oot them. I'm

e a man can have-the chance to retrieve a bad start, to make up for a false step. How many men have that? How many men are there, handicapped as, no doubt, he was, who find those to put f

took my fancy greatly. Sae, next morning, I offered the old couple a good, stiff price for it mair than it was worth, maybe, but not mair than it was worth to me. They thought I was bidding far to

t's the tale o' Kirsty Lamont and her rent box. I played eavesdropper, or I wouldna know it to pass it on to ye, but it's tae gu

r from the wife-she wrote to me, sometimes, then, when I was frae hame, oor courtin' days not being so far behind us as they are noo. (Ah, she t

arry Lauder?" one of

she declared, vehemently. "I think it's a dirty trick he's played on me, the wee de

' that, Kirsty Lam

e the mull last nicht they flang their worki

hurryin' so they could hear Harry Lauder sing. They said he was the comic frae Gla

d it's due on Setterday. Fat wad the neighbors be sayin' if they saw K

r me, so's to leave the siller for the rent. So I said I'd gang, since they were so keen like, and we set oot jist as John came hame fo

for this nicht's work, Kirsty Lamont. Leavin' yer auld man tae

its we were at the ha'. Fat a crushin' a fechtin' the get in. The bobby at the door saw me-savin' that we'd no ha' got in. But the b

ter ran doon my cheeks, and the lassies was that mortified they wushed they had nae brocht me. I'm no ane to laugh

'll be spendin' it in the pubs this meenit I'm talkie' to ye, and we'll no see him till he hasna a penny left to his name. So there's what I think of yer Harry Lauder. I wish I wis within half a mile o' him this meenit, and I'd tell h

e angry as she pretended, maybe, but I'm thinkin' she'd maybe ha' scratched me

e. Many's the man has had me for an explanation of why he was sae late. I'm sorry if I'

ys threatening me with Kirsty Lamont. He pretended that some one had pointed her oot to him, so that he knew her by sicht,

to see me, till Nance was jealous, almost, and I had to tell her the whole yarn before she'd forgie me! He