‘Poor little fellow!’ was on my lips, but I did not utter the words. The child was healthy and strong, and not, apparently, unhappy. He held a ‘gully’ in one hand, and a bit of wood, which he had been whittling while he sang, in the other. Why should I, by expressing my pity for his solitary condition, make him discontented with his lot? Fortunately I had in my pocket a few coppers, which I presented to him. You should have seen the joy that lighted up the child’s face! He looked at the treasure shyly, as if afraid to touch it, so I had to force it into his hand. I don’t think I ever saw before such an expression of pure unalloyed delight on a human countenance. He was so happy that he forgot to thank me. ‘What will you do with them?’ I asked. He opened his hand and pointed to the pennies one after another. ‘I’ll buy sweeties wi’ that ane, an’--an’ bools wi’ that ane, an’--an’--an’ a peerie wi’ that ane; an’ I’ll gi’e ane to Annie, and I’ll lay by twa!’ ‘Prudent young Scotchman,’ said I; ‘and pray, what are “bools”? Marbles, I suppose. And what is a “peerie”?’ The boy thought I was laughing at him. ‘Div ye no ken that?’ he asked, with some suspiciousness and a dash of contempt. I assured him I did not. ‘Ye tie’t up wi’ a string, an’ birl’t on the road, an’ it gangs soon’ soon’ asleep.’ ‘Oh, a top you mean.’ ‘A peerie,’ persisted he. ‘Ah, well; it’s the same thing. Good-day, my boy,’ said I. The little fellow got up, draped as he was in his ragged plaid, and putting one hand with the precious pennies into his pocket, solemnly extended to me the other. ‘I dare say,’ said I to myself, as I looked back and saw the child counting over his treasure once more with eager eyes, ‘I dare say there isn’t a happier creature this day between Land’s End and John O’Groats, than this herd-boy, in his lonely hut on the sodden, dreary moorland!’ And so it is, all the world over. I should think myself very hardly used by fortune, if I had to live alone in a grimy city for six months on five-and-thirty pounds, and had to get up every day before dawn to grind away at Latin and Greek; yet here is young Lindsay with his blue eyes ready to leap out of his head with excitement and delight at the bare prospect of it! It is a curious world. But I must look after my packing; for in order to reach Glasgow to-morrow, we must be stirring long before daylight. Till we meet, then, Your affectionate cousin, HUBERT. CHAPTER V. THE SHIP SETS SAIL.