scones, tying them in the silk handkerchief mother wore round her neck
on Sundays. That and her bible was all I had of her belongings. Where
the rest had gone, a number of pawn tickets told. I was in a hurry to be
off and telling the woman I was going to try the country I bade her
goodbye. She said, God help you, poor boy, and kissed my cheek. The
bells at the Cross were chiming out, The blue bells of Scotland, when I
turned the corner at the Saltmarket.

It was a beautiful spring-day and when I had cleared the city and got
right into the country everything was so fresh and pleasant that I could
have shouted with joy. The hedges were bursting into bloom, the grass
was dotted with daisies, and from the fields of braird rose larks and
other birds, which sang as if they rejoiced with me. I wondered why
people should stay in the city when the country was so much better. It
had one draw-back, the country-road was not as smooth as the pavement.
There was a cut in my left foot from stepping on a bit of glass, and the
dust and grit of the road got into it and gave me some pain. I must have
walked for three hours when I came to a burn that crossed the road. I
sat on a stone and bathed my foot, and with it dangling in the water I
ate a speldrin and a scone. On starting to walk, I found my foot worse,
and had to go slow and take many a rest. When the gloaming came I was on
the look out for a place to pass the night. On finding a cosey spot
behind a clump of bushes, I took my supper, lay down, and fell asleep,
for I was dead weary. The whistling of a blackbird near my head woke me
and I saw the sun was getting high. My foot was much worse, but I had to
go on. Taking from my bundle of provisions as sparingly as my hunger
would let me, I started. It was another fine day and had my hurt foot
been well I thought I would reach my mother's parish before long. I
could not walk, I just limped. Carts passed me, but would not give me a
lift. My bare feet and head and ragged clothes made them suspicious, and