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the chariot wheels of persecution through the breadth and length of bleeding Scotland. But fear not, thou shalt be comforted." John Brown had, by a former wife, a little girl about five years of age, who, on the morning after his marriage, lifted the latch of the spence door, and funding Isabell alone, said, while she covered her face shily with her arm, "They say you are my mother:" "What if I should be vour mother?" replied Isabell. "Naething, but if I thought ye were my mother, I would like to come in aside ye a wee," said Jennie, with artiess simplicity. "I hope I will be your mother, my bairn, and that God will give me grace to be so, and that you will be a comfort to me and your father.' And she proved so. When but a child she was a help and pleasure to them: She would watch her father's return, and as soon as she saw his pack horse at a distance, coming along the bent, she would announce the joyful tidings. Then the gudewife hasted, and made ready the milk porridge, had the dished, covered with a clean cloth, and warm water to wash his weary feet, a blazing fire, a clean hearth, and she and Janet would go out and welcome him home, and help him off with his horse's load. The domestic peace and confort of Priesthill are ta'ked of to this day; and many anecdotes are told and one among the rest, that illustrates the precept of hospitality to strangers, for therby some have entertained angels unawares. The second year after his marriage, one night in the beginning of winter, John Brown had gone to a neighbour's house. The family at home were preparing the wool of their flocks for hodden grey cloth, to sell at Lowrie's fair in Hamilton. The shepherd carded the black and white wool together, for the women to spin : Janet and the herd boy were leasing for the carder: The gudewife sat nursing her first born son at one side of the fire; when the dog, which
