"The Glen wudna dae weel withoot Weelum MacLure, an' he's no as young as
he wes. Man, Drumsheugh, ye micht wile him aff tae the saut water atween
the neeps and the hairst. He's been workin' forty year for a holiday,
an' it's aboot due."

Drumsheugh was full of tact, and met MacLure quite by accident on the
road.

"Saunders'll no need me till the shearing begins," he explained to the
doctor, "an' a'm gaein' tae Brochty for a turn o' the hot baths; they're
fine for the rheumatics.

[Illustration]

"Wull ye no come wi' me for auld lang syne? it's lonesome for a solitary
man, an' it wud dae ye gude."

"Na, na, Drumsheugh," said MacLure, who understood perfectly, "a've dune
a' thae years withoot a break, an' a'm laith (unwilling) tae be takin'
holidays at the tail end.

"A'll no be mony months wi' ye a' thegither noo, an' a'm wanting tae
spend a' the time a' hev in the Glen. Ye see yersel that a'll sune be
getting ma lang rest, an' a'll no deny that a'm wearyin' for it."

As autumn passed into winter, the Glen noticed that the doctor's hair
had turned grey, and that his manner had lost all its roughness. A
feeling of secret gratitude filled their hearts, and they united in a
conspiracy of attention. Annie Mitchell knitted a huge comforter in red
and white, which the doctor wore in misery for one whole day, out of