homely shepherd's trade; he felt a natural desire for a chisel and a
hammer--the engineer was there already in the grain--and he was
accordingly apprenticed to a stonemason in the little town of Lochmaben,
beyond the purple hills to eastward. But his master was a hard man; he
had small mercy for the raw lad; and after trying to manage with him for
a few months, Tam gave it up, took the law into his own hands, and ran
away. Probably the provocation was severe, for in after-life Telford
always showed himself duly respectful to constituted authority; and we
know that petty self-made master-workmen are often apt to be excessively
severe to their own hired helpers, and especially to helpless lads or
young apprentices. At any rate, Tam wouldn't go back; and in the end, a
well-to-do cousin, who had risen to the proud position of steward at the
great hall of the parish, succeeded in getting another mason at
Langholm, the little capital of Eskdale, to take over the runaway for
the remainder of the term of his indentures.

At Langholm, a Scotch country town of the quietest and sleepiest
description, Tam Telford passed the next eight years of his uneventful
early life, first as an apprentice, and afterwards as a journeyman mason
of the humblest type. He had a good mother, and he was a good son. On
Saturday nights he generally managed to walk over to the cottage at
Westerkirk, and accompany the poor widow to the Sunday services at the
parish kirk. As long as she lived, indeed, he never forgot her; and one
of the first tasks he set himself when he was out of his indentures was
to cut a neat headstone with a simple but beautiful inscription for the
grave of that shepherd father whom he had practically never seen. At
Langholm, an old maiden lady, Miss Pasley, interested herself kindly in
Janet Telford's rising boy. She lent him what of all things the eager
lad most needed--books; and the young mason applied himself to them in
all his spare moments with the vigorous ardour and perseverance of