the sichts as weel, for it's no' ilka day that a Deeside body finds
themsel's i' London.

"Ae nicht wha should come in but a Cairn Edward callant that served his
time wi' Maxwell in the _Advertiser_ office. He had spoken to me at the
show, pleased to see a Gallawa' face, nae doot. And he telled me he was
married an' workin' on the _Times_. An' amang ither things back an'
forrit, he telled me that the minister o' Deeside's son was here. 'But,'
says he, 'I'm feared that he's comin' to nae guid.' I kenned that the
laddie hadna been hame to his faither an' his mither for a maitter o'
maybe ten year, so I thocht that I wad like to see the lad for his
faither's sake. So in a day or twa I got his address frae the reporter
lad, an' fand him after a lang seek doon in a gey queer place no' far
frae where Tammas Carlyle leeves, near the water-side. I thocht that
there was nae ill bits i' London but i' the East-end; but I learned
different.

"I gaed up the stair o' a wee brick hoose nearly tumlin' doon wi' its
ain wecht--a perfect rickle o' brick--an' chappit. A lass opened the
door after a wee, no' that ill-lookin', but toosy aboot the heid an'
unco shilpit aboot the face.

"'What do you want?' says she, verra sharp an' clippit in her mainner o'
speech.

"'Does Walter Anderson o' Deeside bide here?' I asked, gey an' plain, as
ye ken a body has to speak to thae Englishers that barely can
understand their ain language.

"'What may you want with him?' says she.