One evening, after George Chrighton had returned from school, without taking time to snatch his accustomed morsel of bread from the aumry, he inquired for his father, and hurried off in quest of him. Having discovered the object of his search in the stack-yard—"Father," cried the boy, as soon as he was within ear-shot, "hae ye heard that Mr. Black intends to make Elspeth Roger flit at the term; an' she canna get a house for hersel an' her bairns in a' the country?"
"I did hear she was gaun to flit," said the old man, composedly; "but whatfor canna she get a house?"
"I dinna ken," was the boy's eager reply; "but she's been seekin ane this aught days, an mair; an' Nan Black says, if somebody doesna help her, she maun tak her twa bairns, an' gang an' beg.—Noo, faither, could we no do something? There's our auld barn: I would mak the clay-cats,[7] an' we might pit up a lum; an' I would help Jock to howk a hole i' the wa', an' it wouldna tak muckle to get a windock; an'—an'—I've forgotten what I was gaun to say; but I'm sure we can pit up the lum; an' the woman canna lie out by."
"I daresay ye're richt, laddie," said his father, after raising his hat, and scratching the hinder part of his head for a few seconds. "The auld barn micht do. There's some bits o' sticks lyin at the end o' the byre, an' some auld nails i' the stable—as mony o' baith as would be required, I believe. Jock could bring a cartfu o' clay the nicht yet—he could mak the cats the morn; ye micht bide at hame a day frae the school, an' carry them in; an' I could pit up the lum mysel."
"But it would need a hallan too, faither," rejoined George.
"Hoot ay," said his father, "it would need a hallan, an' a hantle things forby; an', after a' has been done that we can do, the place will be but little, an' unco inconvenient; but it'll aye be a hole to shelter her an' her bairnies frae the drift, afore they can get a better. An', e'en though the scheme had been less feasible than it is, it maks my heart glad to see that—laddie as ye are—ye hae a thought for ither folk's distress."
"Na," interrupted George, "na, faither; it wasna me—it was Nan Black spoke about it first, an' I only promised to tell ye."
"Weel, weel, laddie," rejoined the other, "I'm glad to hear that Nan Black, as ye ca' her, is likely to turn out a better woman, if she be spared, than ever her faither was a man—but, as he has a' his actions to account for, of him I would say naething." With these words, the worthy farmer was about to resume his labours, when his son, flushed with the success of his plan, exclaimed—
"But will we no tell her, faither? Her mind canna be at ease afore she ken about some place."
"That's weel minded too," said the father—"she's maybe gotten a house already; but, in case she hasna, gang ye owre to your mither, an' tell her I bade ye get a piece; an', when ye've gotten it, ye can rin yont, some time afore it be dark, an' see a' about it. An' ye can tell her that, if she likes, she's welcome to our auld barn, for a year; an', if she taks it, we's no fa' oot about the rent."