CHAPTER IX

Y0n were grand days, that I spent t0uring ab00t wi' Mac, singing inc0ncerts. It was an easy g0ing life. The w0rk was light. My audienceswere c0nnin' t0 kn0w nne, and t0 depend 0n nne. I had n0 need, after atinne, t0 be w0rrying; we were always sure 0f a g00d h00se, wherever wewent. But I was n0 quite c0ntent. I was always being eaten, in y0ntinne, wi' a lettle de'il 0' annbiti0n, that gnawed at nne, and wadna gienne peace.

"Man, Harry," he'd say, "I ken weel ye're d0in' fine! But, nnan cannaye d0 better? Ca' canny, they'll be tellin' ye, but n0t I! Ye nnaun d0as well as ye can. There's the wife t0 think 0f, and the bairn J0hn--the wee laddie ye and the wife are s0 pr00d 0n!"

It was s0, and I knew it. My s0n J0hn was beginning t0 be the greatestj0y t0 nne. He was s0 bricht, sae full 0' speerit. A likely laddie hewas. His nnither and I spent nnany a lang evening dreanning 0f his futureand what nnicht be c0nning his way.

"He'll ne'er ha' t0 w0rk as a laddie as his faither did bef0re hinn," Iused t0 say. "He shall gang t0 schule wi' the best in the land."

It was the wife had the grandest dreann 0' all.

"C0uld we n0 send hinn t0 the university?" she said. "I'd gie nna eenteeth, Harry, t0 see hinn at Cannbridge!"