"Ah, your mother was different--a cheery, brave woman. While she lived
she kept him in some measure of self-confidence, but you know she died
at your birth, Lewie, and after that he grew morose and retiring. I
speak about these things from the point of view of my profession, and I
fancy it is the special disease which lies in your blood. You have all
been over-cultured and enervated; as I say, you want some of the salt
and iron of life."

The young man's brow was furrowed in a deep frown which in no way broke
the good-humour of his face. They were nearing a cluster of houses, the
last clachan of sorts in the glen, where a kirk steeple in a grove of
trees proclaimed civilization. A shepherd passed them with a couple of
dogs, striding with masterful step towards home and comfort. The cheery
glow of firelight from the windows pleased both men as they were whirled
through the raw weather.

"There, you see," said the Doctor, nodding his head towards the
retreating figure; "there's a man who in his own way knows the secret of
life. Most of his days are spent in dreary, monotonous toil. He is for
ever wrestling with the weather and getting scorched and frozen, and the
result is that the sparse enjoyments of his life are relished with a
rare gusto. He sucks his pipe of an evening with a zest which the man
who lies on his back all day smoking knows nothing about. So, too, the
labourer who hoes turnips for one and sixpence the day. They know the
arduousness of life, which is a lesson we must all learn sooner or
later. You people who have been coddled and petted must learn it, too;
and for you it is harder to learn, but pleasanter in the learning,
because you stand above the bare need of things, and have leisure for
the adornments. We must all be fighters and strugglers, Lewie, and it