"Not much," she said with a fine martyr-like air. "She says 'tisn't lady-like, an' she's going to send me to a school in Toronto when I get big, where it's all girls, and not one of them ever, ever jumps once!" They stared at each other in mutual amazement at the conception of a whole jumpless school. "I wouldn't be going!" cried Scotty firmly. "_I'd_ jump--I'd jump out of the window an' run away, whatever!" Her eyes sparkled. "Oh, p'raps I could do that too! I'd run away an' come to Kirsty. She doesn't mind if I jump an' make a noise, an' Kirsty never makes me sew. Oh, Scotty, you don't ever have to sew, do you?" "Noh!" cried Scotty in disdain, "that's girls' work." She sighed deeply. "I wish I was a boy! Harold never has to sew, but Harold goes to school 'way in Toronto all the time an' maybe they don't let him jump there. _I'd_ jump!" she cried, springing from the log and laughing joyously, "oh, wouldn't I! Last tag, Scotty!" and she was once more off into the woods and Scotty after her. Such a happy day as it was, but it was over at last, and after they had eaten their supper, where Kirsty served it to them in their playhouse, Scotty went to the house to bid the old woman good-bye, and started for home. The little girl followed him sadly and slowly to the edge of the clearing. "When'll you come back again?" she asked pleadingly. "I'll not know," said Scotty patronisingly, "I don't often play with girls." The blue sunbonnet drooped; its owner's assurance and independence had all vanished. "You might come next Saturday," she suggested humbly. "Well," said Scotty handsomely, "mebby I'll be coming." "I'm going to ask Kirsty if I can't go to school with you some day!" she cried audaciously. Scotty looked alarmed. In reality he was most eager to return and resume housekeeping in the fence-corner, but to have this stranger go to school with him would never do. The boys would laugh at him, and already he had sufficient trials with Betty Lauchie since Peter stopped going to school. "Oh, it's too far!" he cried hastily, "an' there will be an awful cross master there!" "I don't care, you wouldn't let him touch me, would you?" "If you don't ask Kirsty, I'll come over all next Saturday, an' mebby she'll be letting you come to my place; it's nicer than school." So thus comforted, Isabel climbed the stump and swung her sunbonnet as long as the slanting sunlight showed the little figure running down the fast darkening forest-pathway; and just before the shadows swallowed him up, he turned and waved his cap in farewell. VII THE AVENGING OF GLENCOE Now the dewy sounds begin to dwindle, Dimmer grow the burnished rills, Breezes creep and halt, Soon the guardian night shall kindle In the violet vault, All the twinkling tapers Touched with steady gold Burning through the lawny vapours Where they float and fold. --DUNCAN CAMPBELL SCOTT.