Annie had not seen him for six months. He had continued to show himself
so full of mischief, though of a comparatively innocent sort, that his
father thought it better at last to send him to a town at some distance
to learn the trade of a saddler, for which he had shown a preference.
This was his first visit to his home. Hitherto his father had received
no complaints of his behaviour, and had now begged a holiday.
"Ye're grown sair, Annie," he said.
"Sae are ye, Curly," answered Annie.
"An' hoo's Alec?"
"He's verra weel."
Whereupon much talk followed, which need not be recorded. At length
Curly said:
"And hoo's the rottans?"
"Ower weel and thrivin'."
"Jist pit yer han' i' my coat-pooch, and see what I hae broucht ye."
Knowing Curly's propensities, Annie refused.
"It's a wild beast," said Curly. "I'll lat it oot upo' ye. It was it
'at made a' that roarin' i' the plantin'."
So saying, he pulled out of his pocket the most delicate tortoiseshell
kitten, not half the beauty of which could be perceived in the gloamin,
which is all the northern summer night. He threw it at Annie, but she
had seen enough not to be afraid to catch it in her hands.
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