“Then he turned to the lady.
“‘Take him, then,’ he said, ‘take him and be good to him. He were my wee lad’s cat like that be dead and gone, but a ten-pun’ note’s an’ awfu’ temptation to poor folks like we, and will get the children many a little comfort for the comin’ winter. Pay the lassie,’ he added, ‘I’ll no touch it.’
“He gave one glance at the fireside, and then went out and stayed away for hours.
“He could not bear to see me leave.”
Chapter Twenty.
Hand Met Hand in a Hearty Shake.
I do not think that Shireen would have been quite happy, had she not been able to go now and then and see her village friends, especially perhaps Emily and the blacksmith.
A rough-looking and a rough-voiced sort of a man was Mr Burn-the-wind, as the villagers called him; but it will be readily enough admitted, I think, that there is always some good in people whom cats, and dogs, and children, are fond of. You see, it is like this: we grown-up people are very apt to judge others by their speech, and by what people say about them; while the children, and the creatures we are so fond of calling the lower animals, read one’s character often at a glance, or if not, by one’s actions at all events. Well, Mr Burn-the-wind was actually beloved by dogs and cats, and seldom during the day could you have come into his shop without finding a crowd of merry children there, with whom the good fellow laughed and romped, or chased round and round the anvil.