The door of his next neighbor's house was wide open. He looked in, and saw a woman standing at the fire, superintending some cooking operation, with her back to him.
"Is yer Jim in, mistress?"
"Na," she said, without turning her head. "He'll be doon at some o' his plays. He's nae been in frae the schule yet."
"It's the same wi' Tam. Losh! I'm wunnerin, what's keepin' him."
"Keepin' him, say ye? What wad keep a laddie?"
Half satisfied, the shoemaker went back to his house, and found the kettle singing merrily on the fire. He felt a little anxious. The boy was always home in good time. He crept round again to his neighbor's.
"I'm gettin' fear't about him," he said: "he's niver been sae late's this."
"Hoot, awa' wi' ye! he'll be doon, maybe, at the bathin' wi' the lave, but I'll gang doon the village wi' ye, an' we'll soon fin' the laddie."
She hastily put her bonnet on her head, for the night air was cold, and they both stood together outside the cottage.