Nanse, on finding herself in a certain way, was a thought dumfoundered; and instead of laughing, as she did at first, when I told her my dream, she soon came to regard the matter as one of sober earnest. The very prospect of what was to happen threw a gleam of comfort round our bit fireside; and, long ere the day had come about which was to crown our expectations, Nanse was prepared with her bit stock of baby's wearing apparel, and all necessaries appertaining thereto--wee little mutches with lace borders, and side-knots of blue three-ha'penny ribbon--long muslin frockies, vandyked across the breast, drawn round the waist with narrow nittings and tucked five rows about the tail--Welsh-flannel petticoaties--demity wrappers--a coral gumstick, and other uncos, which it does not befit the like of me to particularize. I trust, on my part, as far as in me lay, I was not found wanting; having taken care to provide a famous Dunlop cheese, at fivepence-halfpenny the pound--I believe I paled fifteen, in Joseph Gowdy's shop, before I fixed on it;--to say nothing of a bottle, or maybe two, of real peat-reek, Farintosh, small-still Hieland whisky--Glenlivat, I think, is the name o't--half a peck of shortbread, baken by Thomas Burlings, with three pounds of butter, and two ounces of carvie-seeds in it, let alone orange-peel, and a pennyworth of ground cinnamon--half a mutchkin of best cony brandy, by way of change--and a Musselburgh ankerstoke, to slice down for tea-drinkings and posset cups. Everyone has reason to be thankful, and me among the rest; for many a worse provided for, and less welcome down-lying has taken place, time out of mind, throughout broad Scotland. I say this with a warm heart, as I am grateful for my all mercies. To hundreds above hundreds such a catastrophe brings scarcely any joy at all; but it was far different with me, who had a Benjamin to look for. If the reader will be so kind as to look over the next chapter, he will find whether or not I was disappointed in my expectations. CHAPTER EIGHT--LETTING LODGINGS It would be curious if I passed over a remarkable incident, which at this time fell out. Being but new beginners in the world, the wife and I put our heads constantly together to contrive for our forward advancement, as it is the bounden duty of all to do. So our housie being rather large (two rooms and a kitchen, not speaking of the coal-cellar and a hen-house,) and having as yet only the expectation of a family, we thought we could not do better than get John Varnish the painter, to do off a small ticket, with "A Furnished Room to Let" on it, which we nailed out at the window; having collected into it the choicest of our furniture, that it might fit a genteeler lodger and produce a better rent--And a lodger soon we got.