The smooth-haired maids, neat in their simple wrappers, knew they were on their trial and that it behoved them to be wary.

They had not compassed twenty winters without knowing that Marget Todd lost Davie Haggart because she "fittit" a black stocking with brown worsted, and that Finny's grieve turned from Bell Whamond on account of the frivolous flowers in her bonnet: and yet Bell's prospects, as I happen to know, at one time looked bright and promising.

Sitting over her father's peat-fire one night gossiping with him about fishing-flies and tackle, I noticed the grieve, who had dropped in by appointment with some ducks' eggs on which Bell's clockin hen was to sit, performing some sleight-of-hand trick with his coat-sleeve.

Craftily he jerked and twisted it, till his own photograph (a black smudge on white) gradually appeared to view.

This he gravely slipped into the hands of the maid of his choice, and then took his departure, apparently much relieved.