There is my aunt in the road, you see,' and he locked me in again with the indignant hens.
I always smile when I recall that young fellow; and yet, if the reader were to smile also, I should feel ashamed.

If my son shall be only like him when he comes to that age, it will be a brave day for me and not a bad one for his country.
At the same time I cannot pretend that I was sorry when his sister succeeded in his place.

She brought me a few crusts of bread and a jug of milk, which she had handsomely laced with whisky after the Scottish manner.
'I am so sorry,' she said: 'I dared not bring on anything more.

We are so small a family, and my aunt keeps such an eye upon the servants.

I have put some whisky in the milk--it is more wholesome so--and with eggs you will be able to make something of a meal.