He pointed to the giby first, and the galbreath next, and she read them together.

This time he did not dance, but seemed waiting some result.

Upon Janet the idea was dawning that he meant himself, but she was thrown out by the cognomen's correspondence with that of the laird, which suggested that the boy had been merely attempting the name of the great man of the district.

With this in her mind, and doubtfully feeling her way, she essayed the tentative of setting him right in the Christian name, and said: "Thomas--Thomas Galbraith." Gibbie shook his head as before, and again resumed his seat.
Presently he brought her the slate, with all the rest rubbed out, and these words standing alone--sir giby galbreath.

Janet read them aloud, whereupon Gibbie began stabbing his forehead with the point of his slate-pencil, and dancing once more in triumph: he had, he hoped, for the first time in his life, conveyed a fact through words.
"That's what they ca' ye, is't ?" said Janet, looking motherly at him: "-- Sir Gibbie Galbraith ?" Gibbie nodded vehemently.
"It'll be some nickname the bairns hae gien him," said Janet to herself, but continued to gaze at him, in questioning doubt of her own solution.