fond of the ride, and some supposed that he even scarcely thought of the black foal; but when he saw Oscar standing looking him in the face, the tears immediately blinded both his eyes. He caught him around the neck, hugged and kissed him—‘Good b’ye Oscar,’ said he blubbering; ‘Good b’ye, God bless you, my dear Oscar; Duncan mounted before a servant and rode away. Oscar still followed at a distance, until he reached the top of the hill—he then sat down and howled. Duncan cried till his little heart was like to burst. What ails you? said the servant; ‘I will never see my poor honest Oscar again,’ said Duncan, ‘an’ my heart canna bide it.’
Duncan staid a year in Edinburgh, but he did not make great progress in learning, neither did he approve highly of attending the school, and his aunt was too indulgent to compel his attendance. She grew extremely ill one day—the maids kept constantly by her, and never regarded Duncan. He was an additional charge to them, and they never loved him, but used him harshly. It was now with great difficulty that he could obtain either meat or drink. In a few days after his aunt was taken ill she died. All was in confusion, and poor Duncan was like to perish with hunger;—he could find no person in tho house; but hearing a noise in his aunt’s chamber, he went in, and beheld them dressing the corpse of his kind relation:—it was enough: Duncan was horified beyond what mortal breast was able to endure:—he hastened down the stair as fast as his feet would carry him, crying incessantly all the way. He would not have entered that house again if the world had been offered him as a reward. Some people stopped him in order to ask what was the matter but he could only answer them by exclaiming, ‘Oh, dear! Oh, dear,’ and struggling till
