It was the weaver's saving that Sanders saw this when his rival turned the corner; for Sam'l was sadly blown.

Sanders took in the situation and gave in at once.

The last hundred yards of the distance he covered at his leisure, and when he arrived at his destination he did not go in.

It was a fine afternoon for the time of year, and he went round to have a look at the pig, about which T'nowhead was a little sinfully puffed up.
"Ay," said Sanders, digging his fingers critically into the grunting animal; "quite so." "Grumph," said the pig, getting reluctantly to his feet.
"Ou ay; yes," said Sanders, thoughtfully.
Then he sat down on the edge of the sty, and looked long and silently at an empty bucket.

But whether his thoughts were of T'nowhead's Bell, whom he had lost for ever, or of the food the farmer fed his pig on, is not known.
"Lord preserve's! Are ye no at the kirk ?" cried Bell, nearly dropping the baby as Sam'l broke into the room.
"Bell!" cried Sam'l.
Then T'nowhead's Bell knew that her hour had come.
"Sam'l," she faltered.
"Will ye hae's Bell ?" demanded Sam'l, glaring at her sheepishly.
"Ay," answered Bell.
Sam'l fell into a chair.
"Bring's a drink o' water, Bell," he said.
But Bell thought the occasion required milk, and there was none in the kitchen.