"I dinna think I will ever smile ony mair, sin' ye think Mr. Cameron has forgotten me," said Jamie, turning away his face to hide a starting tear.
"Ye are takin' it harder than I meant. I am no sure but he will be looking after you o'er soon, and I canna bear to think o' it. He will be wanting to tak you frae hame; that is the warst o' it."
"Weel, mither, every laddie canna bide at hame. I have read in books about folk that hae been mair useful for their knowledge, and I think knowledge maun be a grand thing to hae. I read in the sculemaster's books about men that could call the stars by name, and measure the heights o' the mountains; and I read in a history about mony great men, and I like weel to think that Jamie Murdoch may some day be a great man too."
"It would be better to wish to be a gude man."
"But, mither, can a man no be baith gude and great?"
Early in the spring Farmer Lindsay brought a letter for honest Wullie. It bore the Edinburgh postmark. As a letter was a rare thing at that time and place, Mr. Lindsay waited till Wullie spelled it out. It contained a proposition from Mr. Cameron. He would pay Wullie as much as Jamie could earn, and his tuition besides, if the parish minister would undertake to instruct him preparatory to his entering a high school at Edinburgh. This plan pleased them all exceedingly well, and the more so because Mr. Cameron said they must not hesitate to accept his offer, as he was a friend to education, and had means to spare. He further said that he had taken a great fancy to their son, and would be disappointed if they were unwilling to let him receive a liberal education.
The minister readily undertook the charge, and was glad of the opportunity to eke out his small salary. Jamie did not disappoint his friends. He proved an apt pupil. His parents soon became reconciled to his treading a path in life different from their own. The minister not only approved of the plan, but congratulated Jamie on his prospects. Little by little Jamie came to receive more deference in his own family, and also in the neighborhood. Donald McPherson met him one day, and after a cordial greeting said to him,
"So ye are to be the man o' the parish, are ye, Jamie? We will a' hae to lift oor bonnets to you. Weel, ye will hae a grand chance, for Laird Erskine says that whatever John Cameron taks intil his heid has to gang through. He tells me Cameron lost a son aboot your ain age, and that is why he taks sic an interest in laddies."
Autumn brought John Cameron again to Laird Erskine's. This time he saw more of Jamie, and he told his kinsman that he would be glad to adopt him as a son. But the warm-hearted, simple-minded parents would not consent to this.
The time came when Jamie was to go to Edinburgh. Mrs. Murdoch took leave of her son with many tears. Honest Wullie had no tears, though he felt the pain of separation scarcely less than did the mother. He repeated his admonitions to virtue, and again warned him to shun every appearance of evil. "Warldly wisdom is gude in its place," he said in conclusion, "but ye maunna forget to seek anither kind, for 'the wisdom that is frae aboon is first pure, then peaceable, gentle, and easy to be entreated, full o' mercy and good fruits, without partiality, and without hypocrisy.'"