"Jamie will be home the day!" the happy children shouted, as the wished-for morning at last arrived. He was expected to walk from the town where the stage-coach left him; but Mr. Lindsay remembered the lad that was coming from Edinburgh, and he made it convenient to have business in town that day. He brought Jamie home earlier in the day than he was expected. Mrs. Murdoch was busy preparing some unusual delicacies to do honor to her returning son, and she did not notice his arrival. Jamie entered the open door, and, seeing that his mother did not turn to observe who came in, he thought he would surprise her. He walked softly, and she supposed him to be one of the other children. Jamie shook a warning finger at his sisters, and approaching his mother, he suddenly threw his arms about her neck and kissed her. She started, looked around, and joyfully exclaimed, "O Jamie! hoo ye hae frightened me!" Then she kissed and embraced him in return. "Hoo The children then came forward and gave him a happy greeting. Belle, who had also changed, blushed as her brother complimented her on her improved appearance. Annie placed herself in front of him, with her arms akimbo, and with face brimful of happiness asked, "What think ye o' me?" "Think of you! I think you are the same sunny-faced little Annie, and I doubt not you are as good at a race as ever. I will try you to-morrow. Come here, Davie. Do you mind me?" "Ay, I mind Jamie," said he, climbing on his knee. "And Jamie minds that you like sugarplums." "I like them oftener than I can get them." "Well, let me see what I can find," said Jamie, putting his hand into his pocket and giving him a handful of candies. Then, tossing some to his sisters, he remarked, "You are looking very well, mother." "I feel weel, and I hae plenty to eat and plenty to do; why s'ouldna I look weel?" There was no lack of talk and no end of questions. As the afternoon advanced Annie was "Jamie, will ye gang wi' me for the coos?" "Yes, Annie, I will." "Noo for a race," said Annie. Long before they reached the pasture-lands Jamie was left in the rear. Annie, speeding on, came face to face with honest Wullie, who was working near the path. "Hoot, lassie! Why are ye rinnin' in sic a fashion?" he called out. "What would Jamie say if he s'ould see you gaen at sic a gate?" "It is Jamie that is rinnin' wi' me," she replied, laughing. Just then Jamie appeared, and Wullie's face relaxed. He hastened to meet him. "Welcome hame, Jamie! welcome hame!" he said, grasping his hand. "Hoo ye hae changed! but ye look weel." "I am well. How are you, father?" "I am vera weel. Thanks to the gude Lord, we are a' weel." Then followed mutual inquiries and answers. Annie went after the cows, and Jamie remained with his father, whose day's work was not quite finished. There was a happy family in honest Wullie's cottage that evening. The supper was the best Jamie had improved very much in appearance, in manner, and in knowledge. His conversation interested both parents and children. His accounts of the city, of its buildings, and bits of history connected with them, were highly entertaining to the family whose horizon was so limited. All listened while he was talking. The conversation was prolonged to a late hour, and the children were allowed to sit up much after their usual bedtime. In the morning all again paid homage to Jamie. He was the hero of the house and of the neighborhood. The neighbors all found opportunity to call at the cottage to see the lad who had been away at school. Archie Lindsay frequently spent the evening there, listening with wonder to all that Jamie had to tell. The children were allowed more liberty for Jamie's sake, and the whole summer was a long gala day. Very little time was lost, however, for the girls were taught to use their fingers and ears at the same time. Even Jamie had not forgotten how to work. He spent many a day in the garden, the children at his side; for to them work was pleasure, if they could only be with brother Jamie. The time for the return to Edinburgh came full soon for the children, and indeed for all. They had never tired of hearing the wonders of the outside world. Their narrow horizon had been widened. But Jamie was gone, and their lives slipped back into the old grooves. "Come, lassies, buckle to noo, and mak up time. I liked weel to see ye hae pleasant times wi' Jamie; but if ye are sensible lassies ye will see it wunna do to spend mair time in sic an easy way. There maun be nae lack o' the knitting-siller: ye ken weel what maun be dune wi' it." Notwithstanding the mother's vigilance in preventing any approach to idleness, or even leisure, the children were well and happy. |