CHAPTER XIX.
A PROFESSIONAL NURSE.
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OO, before I go on, I maun tell ye an incident that gied me as bonny a red face as I have haen for mony a day. I had spent three or four very pleasant days i' the country wi' Mrs. M'Cracken, wife o' the cabinet-maker in Renfield Street, at her summer hoose, and, as I had a mile to walk to the railway station, she sent her servant wi' me to carry my portmantay. She had been unco serviceable during my visit, brushing my skirts, and what not, so as I wis stepping into the train I put my hand in my pocket to gie her a mindin' for her trouble.
"O, no," says she, "I'm sure ye needna fash wi' onything o' the kind."
"Toots, lassie," quoth I, "dinna be sae blate; ye've been real kind—tak' it and buy something to yersel'." Wi' that I gets into the train, but I had barely won oot o' the station when I discovered that the twa-shilling-piece I ettled to gie her wis still in my pocket. The coin I had pressed on her, to buy something to hersel' wi', wis only a bawbee. I felt
