Tom, and love poor Colly too."

"It was in the evening of last Wednesday se'nnight: David was just come
home from the hill, where he had been with his sheep. He was wet and tired
with being out in the rain all day; and I had just got him some dry
clothes, and made up a nice blazing fire, to boil some potatoes for his
supper. The two youngest children had climbed up on his knee, poor things!
Tom and Colly were lying at his feet on the hearth. We were saying, what a
dreadful night it was. The rain and wind were beating against the cottage,
and making it almost shake; when, between the blasts, I thought I heard
the sound of a voice, calling David. I listened, and very soon there came
a violent knocking at the door. Who can be out at this time of night, and
in such weather? said I, as I went to open it. 'Make haste, David,' said
Peggy Oliphant, our master's little herd-girl, as she stepped into the
house. 'Come away as fast as you can: there is a horse ready saddled for
you, down at the farm; for our master is taken dangerously ill, and my
mistress thinks, if he has not immediate advice, he will die before
morning; so she begs you will lose no time in riding to Langholm, for Mr.
Armstrong. It is a dreadful night, to be sure, she says, to send you out;
but it is a work of necessity.' David scarcely waited to hear her out. He
took his _maude_ (a woollen plaid cloak which the shepherds wear), and
wrapping it closely round him, set off as fast as he could run, telling me
to put the children to bed, and he would be back as soon as he could. He
would soon ride to Langholm; it was not more than four miles and a half;
and he would gallop all the way. Well, Miss, away he and Peggy went; and I
sat waiting and listening all night, but no David appeared.

"I had just dropped into a kind of sleep, when I was awakened by Colly
barking most piteously. Up I jumped, glad to think that David was come
back; but, on opening the door, only Colly was to be seen. The moment he