“And ’deed, my bairn, that’s no easy to tell, for I have but a confused thought o’ all that happened. Every day I walked on and on, and when I came to the towns, I sleeped at big houses that they call houses o’ entertainment: but ’deed it was no diversion to me, the money they aye asked frae me in the mornings; so I took to sleeping at farm-houses, and that answered better. To be sure sometimes I had but the barn or the hay-loft, and but a short word o’ welcome; but others that were mair civil let me sleep in the big chair by the kitchen fire-side; and clean and comfortable mony o’ the kitchens were, dishes and platters on the walls shining like silver, and big hams hanging from the roof, wi’ the greatest plenty to eat and drink, and blythe bairns running about, looking sae like their meat, that it did my heart good to see them. I was aye happy when I got to a farm-house at night; but sometimes I was not just sae lucky; and what wi’ paying for a night’s lodgings, and for a ride in a wagon or a cart now and then, and for a loaf o’ bread and a draught o’ beer, my money was fast melting away, and my heart no that light; for aye when I asked if I was near London yet, they said it was a weary way, and ower far for sic an auld woman as me to compass. But it was only when the days were fast shortening, and the long nights setting in, that the like o’ thae reflections crushed my spirit; yet the morning’s sun made all right again and warmed my auld heart, and I felt there was a Providence abune that could make the roughest way plain and the langest way short to me. I was aye fond o’ the song o’ the robin, and whiles I would sit down by the side o’ a hedge and hearken to them in the trees abune my head, and then I would throw them some crumbs frae my loaf o’ bread to pleasure them puir things; and the bonnie creatures would come down to the ground and look up in my face, as if I had been a kent friend. And Dash, the wise animal, he would keep his distance, and lie as if the breath o’ life was out of his body, till they had ta’en their breakfast wi’ comfort and discretion. From all that I hae experienced in my lang travel, I think the robins are o’ the same nature as in my ain land, just as frank and as kindly. But oh, my bairns! sic a difference in the rivers; instead of the clear bonnie Esk that I had been used to, wi’ the sand lying at the bottom sparkling like diamonds in some parts, and in others springing over the big stones like bairns let loose frae the school, there I came to rivers as quiet and lazy as mill-ponds, and looking as black and drumlie as if they had washed all the dishes in thae big towns in them; but ’deed it’s no wise discreet in me to be making thae reflections; for if their waters are no just sae clear, surely I am come to a land flowing with milk and honey, and need na mind. But I am wandering from my road again.”