upon my head he said: "And ye are the grandson o' Andra Carnegie! Eh,
mon, I ha'e seen the day when your grandfaither and I could ha'e
hallooed ony reasonable man oot o' his jidgment."

[Illustration: ANDREW CARNEGIE'S BIRTHPLACE]

Several other old people of Dunfermline told me stories of my
grandfather. Here is one of them:

One Hogmanay night[2] an old wifey, quite a character in the
village, being surprised by a disguised face suddenly thrust in at the
window, looked up and after a moment's pause exclaimed, "Oh, it's jist
that daft callant Andra Carnegie." She was right; my grandfather at
seventy-five was out frightening his old lady friends, disguised like
other frolicking youngsters.

[Footnote 2: The 31st of December.]

I think my optimistic nature, my ability to shed trouble and to laugh
through life, making "all my ducks swans," as friends say I do, must
have been inherited from this delightful old masquerading grandfather
whose name I am proud to bear.[3] A sunny disposition is worth more
than fortune. Young people should know that it can be cultivated; that
the mind like the body can be moved from the shade into sunshine. Let
us move it then. Laugh trouble away if possible, and one usually can
if he be anything of a philosopher, provided that self-reproach comes
not from his own wrongdoing. That always remains. There is no washing
out of these "damned spots." The judge within sits in the supreme
court and can never be cheated. Hence the grand rule of life which
Burns gives: