Annie could hardly be said to take it, but she put hers into it, saying timidly, "Is yer leg verra sair, Thamas ?" "Ow na, dawtie; nae noo.

The Lord's been verra mercifu'-- jist like himsel'." It was ill to bide for a while whan I cudna sleep.

But I jist sleep noo like ane o' the beloved." "I was richt sorry for ye, Thamas." "Ay, Ye've a kin' hert, lassie.

And I canna help thinkin'-- they may say what they like--but I canna help thinkin' that the Lord was sorry for me himsel'.

It cam' into my heid as I lay here ae nicht, an' cudna sleep a wink, and cudna rist, and yet daurna muv for my broken hough.
And as sune's that cam' into my heid I was sae upliftit, 'at I forgot a' aboot my leg, and begud, or ever I kent, to sing the hunner and saivent psalm.