"What is a' this for?" said George, sullenly, while he suffered even more from shame than his father's violence. "What is it for!" cried James, half choked with passion; "ye rascal!--ye disgrace!--ye profligate!--how can ye ask what is it for?" and he struck him again. "Faither," said George, more sullenly than before, "I wad advise ye to keep yer hands to yersel--at least on the street and before folk." "Awa wi' ye! ye reprobate!" exclaimed the old man, "and never enter my door again--never while ye breathe--ye thankless----" "Be it sae," said George. James returned to his house, in sorrow and in anger. He was out of humour with everything. He found fault with his daughter--he spoke angrily to his wife. Chairs, stools, tables, and crockery, he kicked to the right and left. He flung his supper behind the fire, when it was set before him. He was grieved at his son's conduct; but he was also angry with himself for his violence towards him. A serjeant of a Highland regiment had been for some time in the village on the recruiting service. He was to leave with his recruits, and proceed to Leith, where they were immediately to embark on the following morning. Amongst the recruits were many of the acquaintances of George and his companions. After the affair of the effigy, they went to have a parting glass with them. George was then about nineteen. He had not yet forgiven his father for the indignity he had openly offered to him--he remembered he had forbidden him his house. One of his companions jestingly alluded to the indignation of the old man--he "wondered how George stood it." The remark made his feelings more bitter. He felt shame upon his face. Another of his companions enlisted; in the excitement of the moment, George followed his example, and, before sunrise on the following morning, was on his road to Leith with the other recruits. Old James arose and went to his loom, unhappy and troubled in his spirit. He longed for a reconciliation with his son--to tell him he was sorry for the length to which his temper had led him, and also calmly to reason with him on the folly, the unreasonableness, and the wickedness, of his own conduct, in running with a crowd at his heels about the street, persecuting honest men, and endangering both the peace of the town and the safety of property. But he had been an hour at the loom, and George took not his place at his (for he had brought him up to his own trade); another hour passed, and breakfast time arrived, but the shuttle which had been driven by the hand of his son sent forth no sound. "Where is George?" inquired he, as he entered the house; "wherefore has he no been ben at his wark?"