Her he led--sometimes he almost carried her--to the place where the grindstone lay, and thus by double journeys kept her with him.

Every one said that Mysy's death would be a merciful release--every one but Cree.
Cree had been a grinder from his youth, having learned the trade from his father, but he gave it up when Mysy became almost blind.

For a time he had to leave her in Thrums with Dan'l Wilkie's wife, and find employment himself in Tilliedrum.

Mysy got me to write several letters for her to Cree, and she cried while telling me what to say.

I never heard either of them use a term of endearment to the other, but all Mysy could tell me to put in writing was--"Oh, my son Cree; oh, my beloved son; oh, I have no one but you; oh, thou God watch over my Cree!" On one of these occasions Mysy put into my hands a paper, which, she said, would perhaps help me to write the letter.