Many a guffaw from Mr.
Lammie greeted its progress, and Miss Lammie laughed till the tears
rolled unheeded down her cheeks, especially when Shargar, emboldened
by the admiration Robert had awakened, imparted his private share in
the comedy, namely, the entombment of Boston in a fifth-fold state;
for the Lammies were none of the unco guid to be censorious upon
such exploits. The whole business advanced the boys in favour at
Bodyfauld; and the entreaties of Robert that nothing, should reach
his grandmother's ears were entirely unnecessary.
After breakfast Miss Lammie dressed the wounded foot. But what was
to be done for shoes, for Robert's Sunday pair had been left at
home? Under ordinary circumstances it would have been no great
hardship to him to go barefoot for the rest of the autumn, but the
cut was rather a serious one. So his feet were cased in a pair of
Mr. Lammie's Sunday boots, which, from their size, made it so
difficult for him to get along, that he did not go far from the
doors, but revelled in the company of his violin in the corn-yard
amongst last year's ricks, in the barn, and in the hayloft, playing
all the tunes he knew, and trying over one or two more from a very
dirty old book of Scotch airs, which his teacher had lent him.
In the evening, as they sat together after supper, Mr. Lammie said,
'Weel, Robert, hoo's the fiddle?'
'Fine, I thank ye, sir,' answered Robert.
'Lat's hear what ye can do wi' 't.
Pages:
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227