box-bed. To the eyes of the shepherd-born lad, it looked the most
desirable shelter he had ever seen. He turned to his hostess and
said,

"I'm feart it's ower guid for me. What could ye lat me hae't for by
the week? I wad fain bide wi' ye, but whaur an' whan I may get wark
I canna tell; sae I maunna tak it ony gait for mair nor a week."

"Mak yersel' at ease till the morn be by," said the old woman. "Ye
canna du naething till that be ower. Upo' the Mononday mornin' we
s' haud a cooncil thegither--you an' me an' my man: I can du
naething wantin' my man; we aye pu' thegither or no at a'."

Well content, and with hearty thanks, Donal committed his present
fate into the hands of the humble pair, his heaven-sent helpers; and
after much washing and brushing, all that was possible to him in the
way of dressing, reappeared in the kitchen. Their tea was ready,
and the cobbler seated in the window with a book in his hand,
leaving for Donal his easy chair.

"I canna tak yer ain cheir frae ye," said Donal.

"Hoots!" returned the cobbler, "what's onything oors for but to gie
the neeper 'at stan's i' need o' 't."

"But ye hae had a sair day's wark!"

"An' you a sair day's traivel!"

"But I'm yoong!"