Jeanie replied in the negative. "Ay; but your sister had, though--and I ken what came o't too." "In the name of heavenly mercy," said Jeanie, forgetting the line of conduct which she had hitherto adopted, "tell me but what became of that unfortunate babe, and" Madge stopped, looked at her gravely and fixedly, and then broke into a great fit of laughing--"Aha, lass,--catch me if you can--I think it's easy to gar you trow ony thing.--How suld I ken onything o' your sister's wean? Lasses suld hae naething to do wi' weans till they are married--and then a' the gossips and cummers come in and feast as if it were the blithest day in the warld.--They say maidens' bairns are weel guided. I wot that wasna true of your tittie's and mine; but these are sad tales to tell.--I maun just sing a bit to keep up my heart--It's a sang that Gentle George made on me lang syne, when I went with him to Lockington wake, to see him act upon a stage, in fine clothes, with the player folk. He might hae dune waur than married me that night as he promised--better wed over the mixen* as over the moor, as they say in Yorkshire-- * A homely proverb, signifying better wed a neighbour than one fetched from a distance.--Mixen signifies dunghill. he may gang farther and fare waur--but that's a' ane to the sang, 'I'm Madge of the country, I'm Madge of the town, And I'm Madge of the lad I am blithest to own-- The Lady of Beeve in diamonds may shine, But has not a heart half so lightsome as mine. 'I am Queen of the Wake, and I'm Lady of May, And I lead the blithe ring round the May-pole to-day; The wildfire that flashes so fair and so free, Was never so bright, or so bonny, as me.' "I like that the best o' a' my sangs," continued the maniac, "because he made it. I am often singing it, and that's maybe the reason folk ca' me Madge Wildfire. I aye answer to the name, though it's no my ain, for what's the use of making a fash?" "But ye shouldna sing upon the Sabbath at least," said Jeanie, who, amid all her distress and anxiety, could not help being scandalised at the deportment of her companion, especially as they now approached near to the little village. "Ay! is this Sunday?" said Madge. "My mother leads sic a life, wi' turning night into day, that ane loses a' count o' the days o' the week, and disna ken Sunday frae Saturday. Besides, it's a' your whiggery--in England, folk sings when they like--And then, ye ken, you are Christiana and I am Mercy--and ye ken, as they went on their way, they sang."--And she immediately raised one of John Bunyan's ditties:-- "He that is down need fear no fall, He that is low no pride, He that is humble ever shall Have God to be his guide.