“My poor bairn!” said the Mistress, for the first time bestowing a glance of pity upon Patie--“if your fortune has to wait for its making till folk gang riding over a’ the roads on steam horses, like what’s written in the papers, I’ll never live to see it. There’s that man they ca’ Stephenson, he’s made something or other that’s a great wonder; but, laddie, you dinna think that roads like that can go far? They may have them up about London--and truly you might live to make another, I’ll no’ say--but I would rather build a tower to keep ships from being wrecked than make a road for folk to break their necks on, if it was me.” “Folk that are born to break their necks will break them on any kind of road,” said Patie, with great gravity; “but I’ve read about it all, and I think a man only needs to know what he has to do, to thrive; and besides, mother, there’s more need for engines than upon railroads. It’s a business worth a man’s while.” “Patie,” said the Mistress, solemnly, “I’ve given my consent to Huntley to gang thousands of miles away over the sea; but if _you_ gang among thae engines, that are merciless and senseless, and can tear a living creature like a rag of claith--I’ve seen them, laddie, with my own e’en, clanging and clinking like the evil place itself--I’ll think it’s Patie that’s in the lion’s mouth, and no’ my eldest son.” “Well, mother!” said Patie, sturdily--“if I were in the lion’s mouth, and yet had room to keep clear, would you be feared for me?” This appeal took the Mistress entirely without preparation. She brushed her hands hastily over her eyes once more, and went on with her knitting. Then a long, hard-drawn breath, which was not a sigh, came from the mother’s breast; in the midst of her objections, her determination not to be satisfied, a certain unaccountable pride in the vigor, and strength, and resolution of her sons rose in the kindred spirit of their mother. She was not “feared"--neither for one nor the other of the bold youths by her side. Her own strong vitality went forth with them, with an indescribable swell of exhilaration--yet she was their mother, and a widow, and it wrung her heart to arrange quietly how they were to leave her and their home. “And me?” said Cosmo, coming to his mother’s side.