lad!' said he; 'ye shall hae my gun, and ye may tak also my greatcoat and knapsack, for they only encumber me. Ye hae rescued a dying man.' I was nearly as tall as he; and, though his coat was loose about me, when I got it on, and his musket over my shoulder, and felt that I was marching like an armed knight of old against the invaders of my country, I felt as proud as an emperor; I would not have changed situations with a king. I overtook you, and you know the rest. At Haddington, the strong ale was too strong for me. I was also sorely mortified to find all my prospects of becoming a hero blasted. When, therefore, you went out to take our places in the coach to Dunbar, I slipped out of the room, and hiding Mr Barlowman's coat and gun in a closet, in the house, I took the road for Edinburgh; which city I reached within less than three hours; and before I had been in it twenty minutes I was a soldier. I was afraid to write home, lest ye would take steps to buy me off. On the fourth day after my enlisting I was landed at Chatham, where I was subjected to a perpetual drill; and within thirty hours after landing, I again embarked with my regiment; and when I wished to have written, I had not an opportunity. Since then, I have been in two general engagements and several skirmishes, in all of which I have escaped unwounded. I have found that to read of a battle, and to be engaged in a battle, are two very different things. The description is grand, but the sight dismal. I trust that my behaviour as a soldier has been unimpeachable. It has obtained for me the notice of our colonel, who has promoted me to the rank of corporal, with the promise of shortly making me a sergeant; and I am not without hopes, before the war is over, (of which there at present is no prospect), of obtaining a commission; though it certainly is not one in a thousand that has such fortune. Hoping, therefore, my dear parents, that, under the blessing of Providence, this will find you well, as it leaves me, and that I will live to return to ask your forgiveness, I remain your affectionate and dutiful son, "ROBERT GOLDIE." * * * * * Such was Robin's letter. "Read it again," said mother--and I read it again; and when I had done so, she took it in her hand and pressed it to her lips and to her breast, and wept for "her poor bairn." At last, in a tone of despondency, she said--"But, oh, he doesna once particularly mention his mother's name in't." "He surely does," said I; "I think he mentions us both." So I took the letter again into my hand, and, at the foot corner of the third page, I saw what I had not observed before, the letters and words--"_P.S. Turn over_." "P.S." said his mother; "who does that mean?" "Oh!" said I, "it means nobody. It means that we have not read all the letter." "Read it a', then--read it a'!" she cried. And I turned to the last page, on the fold above the direction, and read--