"Ye are mair than warthy o' it, Wullie; sae I hope it will come. But sin' I didna hae it, I wouldna deceive ye."
"Ye hae been honest aboot it at ony rate, sae it wunna fret me."
A few days later Wullie returned from town with a nice dress-pattern for Jeannie, some tartans for the little girls, cloth to be made up for Jamie, and a new suit for himself. After a few weeks there were gathered in the best room of the cottage Farmer Lindsay and his wife, Donald and Katy McPherson, the children, and the parish minister. Before him stood honest Wullie and the widow, who was then to become Mrs. William Murdoch. After the ceremony and the congratulations were over came a supper such as had never before been seen in the cottage. After this was finished Farmer Lindsay took his seat by the window, and often looked out into the twilight. Presently he saw, as he expected, his herd-boy leading a fine young cow.
"I suppose ye hae room in your byre for anither coo?" he asked, addressing Wullie.
"Ay, I hae room eneuch, if that was a' that stood in the way o' twa being there."
"Weel, then, ye will hae twa, for here comes a lad wi' the heifer we ca' Spot. Did ye think I would forget my auld and tried servant at sic a time as this?"
"Weel, weel, weel! This is wholly unexpectit! Mony thanks to you, Maister Lindsay."
Donald McPherson rejoiced in the good fortune of his neighbor, but he felt somewhat crestfallen that he had brought nothing to give, and he expressed his regret to his host. But Wullie relieved him by saying, with a smile,
"We canna a' gie presents, Donald, but we can a' gie gude wishes, and I am sure ye gie me them, neebor."
The evening passed in pleasant talk, and when these neighbors separated it was with a kindly feeling towards each other that is often wanting in the higher circles of life.