This was followed by solos on the melodeon and mouth-organ, and then came the dance. The old attic fairly shivered with the rattle of the feet. Indeed, Paw Tamson sat breathlessly waiting for the surging floor to crash through to the neighbours below. An equally startling thing occurred. In the middle of a barn dance, all gave a thrilling jump and a hooch. This loosened the clothes-pulley on the roof of the house below. Down it went with a crash, tearing the clock, pictures, and dish-racks with it, as well as striking the bald and withered head of Paw Grumpie, a hereditary foe of the Tamsons. "Thae d—— balloon an’ candy keelies," he groaned, at the same time seizing the poker and rushing upstairs. With a kick he smashed in a panel of the door, then flinging it open, he dashed in, followed by all the Grumpie clan. In a minute a joyful party was turned into a regular vendetta. Pokers, brooms, dishes, mats, and haddie bones were freely used, and it was only the cry of "Polis" which ended this startling combat. As the Tamson party heard the echo of the bobbies’ feet, they fled to their various buts and bens, leaving Spud and Mary Ann to sweep up the wreckage, and renew in private their tender endearments. "Guid nicht, Mary," said he at the close, later on, giving her one more kiss. "Guid nicht, Spud, an’ ye’ll see me the morn?" "Oh ay." "An’ you’ll aye be true tae me?" "True as daith," he said, gripping her firmly by the hand. Giving her another kiss and a wave of his hand, he shouted, "Ta-ta," and made for bed. Mary Ann’s sleep that night was one long rosy dream. She lived in a land of love, and the hero of it all was this gallant Lance-Corporal of the Glesca Mileeshy. She longed for the coming day, to renew the hours of bliss; but, alas! that never came. For her early slumbers were shaken by the newsboys’ cry of "War—Troops for the Front." Her first thoughts were of Spud, and she flew to his abode, but all she saw was Mrs Tamson, as pale as death, and sitting with a tear-stained telegram in her hand. "Spud’s awa’—read that," said she to Mary, with a sob. The girl gripped it feverishly, then saw— "Lance-Corporal _Spud Tamson_ Regiment for Active Service Rejoin immediately. _Adjutant_." "God help me!" shrieked the girl, swooning away on the floor, for the poor can love perhaps more truly than the rich. CHAPTER X. MOBILISATION.