of speech, and then his conversation was pitched in the same key as when
he performed his herding functions.

To the little Jean, Geordie had been playmate and protector in one, her
absolute slave from the time she sat on her old grandmother's knee, and,
tiring of that position, lisped out, "Deordie, Deordie," holding out her
little brown hands so that he might take her, and then they would sit
together on the earthen floor of the cottage, and the gipsy locks would
intermingle with Geordie's flaxen hair, which yielded meekly to as rough
treatment from the little brown fingers as ever hapless terrier of the
nursery was called on to undergo. But Geordie's sun-bleached locks had
always been at her service, and his head and hands too; though it was
not much that the little herd-boy had been able to do for his sister.
Often as he lay on the heather, watching his cows, he smiled with
delight as he thought of the time when he should be promoted into a farm
servant, with wages enough to send Jean to school, and to buy her a
pretty print dress, all dotted with blue stars, like the one Mistress
Gowrie wore. As yet all his earnings had gone to pay board to his
grandmother, and for present necessities in the shape of shoes and
corduroys. He had in one of his pockets a little chamois bag, containing
a few shillings, which he always carried about with him; and it was one
of his recreations to spread them on one of the flat, grey stones and
count the silver pieces as they glittered in the sun. He knew well what
he meant to do with them when the pile grew large enough; but its growth
was a very slow one, and required much self-denial on Geordie's part,
seeing that the component parts of each shilling were generally gathered
in a stray penny now and then, which he earned by holding a market-going
farmer's cob; and if, by a rare chance, a sixpence happened to be the
unexpected result of one such service, then Geordie felt that he was
really getting rich, and would soon be able to buy what he had wished