CHAPTER IX.
"Noo, Annie, pit on yer bonnet, an' gang to the schuil wi' the lave (rest); an' be a good girrl." This was the Bruce's parting address to Annie, before he left the kitchen for the shop, after breakfast and worship had been duly observed; and having just risen from his knees, his voice, as he stooped over the child, retained all the sanctity of its last occupation.

It was a quarter to ten o'clock, and the school was some five minutes distant.
With a flutter of fearful hope, Annie obeyed.

She ran upstairs, made herself as tidy, as she could, smoothed her hair, put on her bonnet, and had been waiting a long time at the door when her companions joined her.

It was very exciting to look forward to something that might not be disagreeable.
As they went, the boys got one on each side of her in a rather sociable manner.

But they had gone half the distance and not a word had been spoken, when Robert Bruce, junior, opened the conversation abruptly.
"Ye'll get it!" he said, as if he had been brooding upon the fact for some time, and now it had broken out.
"What'll I get ?" asked Annie timidly, for his tone had already filled her with apprehension.
"Sic lickins," answered the little wretch, drawing back his lips till his canine teeth were fully disclosed, as if he gloated in a carnivorous sort of way over the prospect.