I'm feared he might burn it without opening it if he saw my write on the cover, so I've wrote it to a friend of his wha will read it to him." "And what's inside, mother ?" the boy begged, inquisitively.

"It must be queer things if they'll bring Aaron Latta all the way from Thrums." "There's but little in it, man," she said, pressing her hand hard upon her chest.

"It's no muckle mair than 'Auld Lang Syne, my dear, for Auld Lang Syne.'".