Mrs. Douglas laid down her stocking, and said in a bewildered tone: "I never could understand why you were so pugnacious. You were a dreadfully bad example to the other children in the place. They say that ministers' children are generally worse than other people's--on the principle, I suppose, that 'shoemakers' bairns are aye ill shod,' but I never saw children more naturally bad than you were--well, not bad, perhaps, but wild and mischievous to a degree. Your father sometimes said that no one could doubt the theory of original sin after seeing our family. Alison sometimes comes to me in her wheedling way and says, 'Gran, do tell me about your bad children,' and I have to tell her of the time when you celebrated the Queen's birthday at the coal-pit by setting fire to a lot of valuable wood and nearly burned the whole place, and the day when we lost you and found you all in the Panny Pond--literally 'in' it you were, for you had made a raft and sunk with it into the soft, black mud." "Yes," said Ann, "I was always sorry after that for 'The Girl who trod on a Loaf,' for I knew the dreadfulness of sinking down, down." "I think my dear Robbie was the worst of you all. You others showed faint signs of improvement, but he never deviated into good behaviour. He was what is known in Priorsford as 'a notorious ill callant,' and in Fife as 'an awfu' steerin' bairn.' When I went away for a day or two I had always to take him with me, for I knew if I left him at home it would be sheer 'battleation,' and yet he had the tenderest heart among you, and Rosamund said, 'Robbie's the one who has never once been cross to me.' I remember the first time I took him to church. He disliked the look of the woman who sat in front, a prim lady, and he suddenly tilted her bonnet over her eyes. Then he shouted to a well-behaved child in the next seat, 'Bad boy make a face at me,' and before I could stop him, hurled his shoe at him; and he announced at the top of his voice, 'Mark and Ann's away to Etterick, but I don't care a wee, wee button,' and had then to be removed. 'Wheep him,' Mrs. Beaton used to counsel; but Mrs. Peat always said 'Robbie's a fine laddie.'"