the morn, and in whatten horror o' the fearsome tempest, cryin' on the hills to cover ye?'
'Why, Kirstie, you're very enigmatical to-night—and very eloquent,' Archie put in.
'And, my dear Mr. Erchie,' she continued, with a change of voice, 'ye mauna think that I canna sympathise wi' ye. Ye mauna think that I havena been young mysel'. Lang syne, when I was a bit lassie, no twenty yet———' She paused and sighed. 'Clean and caller, wi' a fit like the hinney bee,' she continned. 'I was aye big and buirdly, ye maun understand; a bonny figure o' a woman, though I say it that suldna built to rear bairns—braw bairns they suld hae been, and grand I would hae likit it! But I was young, dear, wi' the bonny glint o' youth in my e'en, and little I dreamed I'd ever be tellin' ye this, an auld, lanely, rudas wife! Weel, Mr. Erchie, there was a lad cam' courtin' me, as was but naetural. Mony had come
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