They say he's aye fin'in' things." "He's a guid-hertit cratur!" said the mother,--"for ane, that is, 'at's been sae ill broucht up." She rose, took from the shelf a large piece of bread, composed of many adhering penny-loaves, detached one, and went to the door.
"Here, Gibbie!" she cried as she opened it; "here's a fine piece to ye." But no Gibbie was there.

Up and down the street not a child was to be seen.

A sandboy with a donkey cart was the sole human arrangement in it.

The baker's wife drew back, shut the door and resumed her knitting..