“Wumman, it 's a heat in the banes 'at he's gotten laist hairst, and the spring's drawin' it oot. Dinna send it in for ony sake, eke ye 'ill hae yir man in the kirkyaird. “Ma advice,” continued Leezbeth, now rioting in triumph, “t'wud be tae rub him weel wi whisky; ye canna gang wrang wi' speerits, oot or in; an' dinna lat him sleep; if he took tae dronyin' (dozing) ye micht never get him waukened.” And so Drumsheugh's housekeeper departed, having dashed Janet at a stroke. When Kirsty arrived in the afternoon to offer her services, Janet had no heart to enter into the case. “Drumsheugh's Leezbeth gied us a cry afore dinner and settled the maitter; gin she lays doon the law there 's naebody need conter her; ye wud think she 'd been at the creation tae hear her speak; ye 've hed a lang traivel, Kirsty, an' ye 'ill be ready for yir tea.” “Ou ay,” replied Janet bitterly, “she gied it a name; it's naething but a bit heat--a bairn's rash, a'm jidgin', though a'never saw ane like it a' ma days; but Leezbeth kens better, wi' a' her experience, an' of coorse it's a sateesfaction tae ken that the Glen needna fash (trouble) themselves aboot Peter.” “Leezbeth wesna blate,” Kirsty burst out, unable to contain herself at the thought of this intrusion into her recognised sphere, “an' it 's a mercy we hae the like o' her in the Glen noo that Doctor Maclure is deid an' gane. Did ye say her experience?” and Kirsty began to warm to the occasion; “a' wunner whether it's wi' beasts or fouk? Gin it be wi' Drumsheugh's young cattle, a' hae naethin' tae say; but gin it be Christians, a' wud juist ask ae question--hoo mony o' her fouk hes she beeried?” “Naethin' tae speak o' aside you, Kirsty,” said Janet, in propitiation; “a'body kens what preevileges ye 've hed.” “Ae brither an' twa half sisters, that 's a',” continued Kirsty, “for a' hed it frae her own lips; it's no worth mentionin'; gin a' hed seen nae mair tribble than that a' wud be ashamed tae show ma face in a sick hoose; lat's hear aboot yir man, Janet,” and Kirsty settled down to details. “Did ye say half roond, Janet?” and she leaned forward with concern on every feature. “That 's hoo it is; the ither side is as white as a bairn's skin; an' though he be ma man, a 'll say this for him, that he's aye hed clean blude an' nae marks; but what are ye glowerin' at? hae ye ony licht? speak, wumman.” “This is a mair serious business, Janet, than onybody suspectit,” and Kirsty sighed heavily. “Preserve's, Kirsty, what div ye think is the matter wi' Peter? tell's the warst at aince,” for Kirsty's face suggested an apocalypse of woe. “A heat,” she said, still lingering over Leez-beth's shallow, amateur suggestion, “gotten at the hairst... rub it wi' whisky... ay, ay, it 's plain whar she gets her skill, 'at disna ken the differ atween the tribble o' a man an' a beast. “Isn't maist michty,” and now Kirsty grew indignant, “'at a wumman o' Leezbeth's age cudna tell an eruption frae a jidgment?”