I didna expect any letters, because Bessie couldna write, and, indeed, I was poor enough wi' my pen at that time, and only wrote once to tell her I had good wark and would be for her a New Year.
"But when I went I found that Bessie had gane, and none knew where.

I traced her to Keswick poor-house, where she had a little lad; the matron said she went away in a very weak condition when the child was three weeks old, declaring that she was going to her friends.

Puir, bonnie, loving Bessie; that was the last I ever heard o' my wife and bairn." Mysie had left the room, and as she returnee with a little bundle Andrew was anxiously asking, "What was the lassie's maiden name, Davie ?" "Bessie Dunbar, father." "Then this is a wun'erful day; we are blessed and twice blessed, for I found your wife and bairn, Davie, just where John Sugden found you, 'mang the Druids' stanes; and the lad has my ain honest name and is weel worthy o' it." "See here, Davie," and Mysie tenderly touched the poor faded dress and shawl, and laid the wedding-ring in his palm.

As she spoke wee Andrew came across the yard, walking slowly, reading as he walked.

"Look at him, Davie! He's a bonnie lad, and a gude are; and oh, my ain dear lad, he has had a' things that thy youth wanted." It pleased the old man no little that, in spite of his father's loving greeting, wee Andrew stole away to his side.
"You see, Davie," he urged in apology, "he's mair at hame like wi' me." And then he drew the child to him, and let his whole heart go out now, without check or reproach, to "Davie's bairn." "But you have not finished your story, Mr.Cargill," said John, and David sighed as he answered, "There is naething by the ordinar in it.