"What! my son a peddler and go among rough men upon the wharves! I
would rather throw him into the Allegheny River. Leave me!" she cried,
pointing to the door, and Mr. Hogan went.

She stood a tragic queen. The next moment she had broken down, but
only for a few moments did tears fall and sobs come. Then she took her
two boys in her arms and told us not to mind her foolishness. There
were many things in the world for us to do and we could be useful men,
honored and respected, if we always did what was right. It was a
repetition of Helen Macgregor, in her reply to Osbaldistone in which
she threatened to have her prisoners "chopped into as many pieces as
there are checks in the tartan." But the reason for the outburst was
different. It was not because the occupation suggested was peaceful
labor, for we were taught that idleness was disgraceful; but because
the suggested occupation was somewhat vagrant in character and not
entirely respectable in her eyes. Better death. Yes, mother would have
taken her two boys, one under each arm, and perished with them rather
than they should mingle with low company in their extreme youth.

As I look back upon the early struggles this can be said: there was
not a prouder family in the land. A keen sense of honor, independence,
self-respect, pervaded the household. Walter Scott said of Burns that
he had the most extraordinary eye he ever saw in a human being. I can
say as much for my mother. As Burns has it:

"Her eye even turned on empty space,
Beamed keen with honor."

Anything low, mean, deceitful, shifty, coarse, underhand, or gossipy
was foreign to that heroic soul. Tom and I could not help growing up