CHAP. III.


When Mr. Martin and the young folks had got to the bottom of the steps,
Helen once more mounted her pony, and they proceeded down the glen till
they nearly reached the beginning of the green holm, when they again
turned up the public road, by the side of the river; Bob chose here to
make a stop, to drink some of the clear sweet water of the burn, before he
crossed it; and while he was gratifying his taste, John observing that the
late rains had washed away some of the stepping stones, which served to
prevent passengers from wetting their feet in getting to the other side,
began to bring the largest he could carry, for Mr. Martin's accommodation;
and by the time that Bob had finished his drink, had made quite a dry path
for him to cross. As for himself, poor fellow, stepping stones were not
necessary; for the boys in his rank in life in Scotland wear neither
stockings nor shoes during the week; only on Sundays are they indulged
with this piece of finery. Mr. Martin looked pleased with this attention.
"Thank you, John," said he; "that is being both a useful and observing
boy. Such little civilities to those around you, my dear, will make you
beloved by everybody;" and turning to Helen, he continued, "This is what
your dear mother calls natural politeness, and which she loves so much to
see in young people; as she says it is the mark of a good disposition."
Bob now moved on, Mr. Martin and John by his side, conversing upon
different subjects. Just after they had crossed the burn, they reached the
farm-house of David Little's master, Mr. Elliott, which stood on a rising
ground, at no great distance.

There was nothing remarkable in the house itself; but its situation was
extremely beautiful: the little burn running on one side of it, and the
more majestic Esk on the other; the garden in front extending quite to the