"It's mysel, sir, wad like it weel," said the boy, his sharp, intelligent little eye brightening with the idea; "but my faither couldna want me for herdin the cows, and helpin him wi' his peats." "Where does your father live, my boy?" inquired Mr M'Donald. "At the Ferry o' Bunaw, sir." It was within half-a-mile of the house to which the latter was just going, and where he intended stopping for a few days, previous to his leaving the country for good and all. "Well, my little fellow," he said, "I am going to Blackhouse. You know it, I fancy?" "Yes, sir." "Well, call upon me there to-morrow forenoon. Ask for Mr M'Donald. I wish to speak further with you." The boy promised, and Mr M'Donald rode off. Now, it would not be easy for us to say what were the latter's intentions regarding the little barelegged boy; and for this simple reason--that he did not well know himself. He had, however, taken a fancy to the boy--that is certain--and felt a disposition to do him a service, although he had not yet thought of what nature this should be, or how it was to be done. He had, in truth, no definite views on the subject; but he had not ridden far, when these began to assume something of a tangible shape, and this was, to take the boy into his service as a personal attendant, provided his parents should agree to it. True to his appointment, little Duncan waited next day on Mr M'Donald, his face well washed, and his hair carefully combed over his forehead. "Ah, Duncan, are you there?" said the latter, on his entering the apartment where he was. "I'm glad to see you. You said yesterday, Duncan, that you would like to go abroad." "Weel wad I like that, sir," replied the little bare-breeched Highlander, "if my faither could spare me." "Did you speak to your father on the subject, Duncan?" "I tell't him that I met you, sir, and what you said." "Ay; and what did he say, my little fellow?" "He said, sir, 'The shentleman's been shoking you, Duncan; but ye may go down to Blackhouse, as he pade you, and see what he has to say.'" And Duncan looked at Mr M'Donald as if he would be glad himself to know whether there was anything of a joke in the matter. Indeed, it was for this purpose that he repeated his father's words, cunningly availing himself of them to elicit the information he wanted. "Joking you, Duncan!" repeated Mr M'Donald, smiling. "By no means; and of this I'll soon convince both you and your father." Having said this, he took up his hat and stick, and desired the boy to conduct him to his father's. The house was one of the poorest class; and it was evident, from everything within and around it, that it was a hard struggle with its occupants to make, as the saying has it, "the two ends to meet."