SHORT STORIES.

Otago Witness, Issue 2978, 12 April 1911, Page 89

SHORT STORIES.

By Alec Alan.

— WHA WAS DONAL’S FAITHER?

(All Eights Reserved.) Towards the end of the eighteenth century there was formulated in Scotland a saying of the semi-proverbial kind that afterwards turned up, like a gag, whenever an investigation had to be made into a- business matter, a crime, or a mystery: “Ay ! we’ll find oot noo wha’s wha, what’s what, an’ wha was Donal’s faither.” The origin cf the saying was very simple and natural, and for that very reason was soon lost sight of, public attention being far more attracted to the saying, from its general applicability and the humorous touch of Nature in it, than to the tide in which it occurred, and which very few knew in its entirety. The Scotch adopt, and apply metaphorically, many such sayings. “Ne’er say that a herrin’ is dry till it be baith reestit an’ reekit,’’ has a humour and breadth of application that people of the Dr Samuel Johnson type cannot appreciate. But to my story—for it is given to me, at this distant day, to relate the humble, romantic, and tragic circumstances that brought about the use of the triple query. It belongs, of course, to “the simple annals of the poor’’ in that part of Scotland where Lowlands and Highlands meet, and where the folk speak both Gaelic and Lowland Scotch, while they read pure English. Nine or ten miles away back from manse and clachan, among the heathery moorlands of the lower Grampians, in the north-west of Perthshire, there lived in a humble cottage, or shielin’, a shepherd and his wife. Their nearest neighbour, when they began their married life, was a widow, whose sons were all married and "away, and whose only daughter wms at service in, Glasgow. The widow’s “claybiggin’ ” was close to the kirk track, and about ten furlongs nearer the kirk than the shepherd’s cot, higher up. The dwelllings were within sight of one another. Before the end of the second year of their marriage a daughter was born to Angus MTntosh, the shepherd, and his spouse, Katharine. The widow, Mrs Roy, went up and nursed Mrs MTntosh for a fortnight, or maybe more. It was considered very lucky that the minister from the manse should be there, so far from‘home, Just the day before Airs Roy was to return home. He was making a ministerial domiciliary visit, that occurred every other year, or seldomer, if weather and other parochial circumstances did not permit. He was very considerate, and was pleased, as he was on the spot, to baptise the child. The babe was named Katharine, after its mother, and her mother, and many generations of mothers before.

The child was healthy, and grew to be a warm-hearted girl. Her parents called her Kathie, and Widow Roy called her Katey Tcsh. M'lntosh is usually so shortened among familiars. Kathie never had any brothers or sisters to grow up and push her out of the home nest; yet that did not hinder her from having an ambition to go forth and earn money and see the world in big towns. There had been no school which she could attend; but she was not ignorant—no shepherd's children are. Their parents teach them as they themselves have been taught; and self-teaching, after a good beginning, seems to be second nature to them. They learn much by heart, and their memories become good and strong. For a similar reason, all races and peoples whose history and laws are traditional have excellent memories.

Another thins that fed Kathie's desire to see more than could be seen on a Grampian hillside was the account that Margaret Roy, Widow Roy's daughter, gave of the g*,:<vj.i city of Glasgow, where she had been in service. Marget had returned to her mother's house when Kathie was entering on her 'teens. Mrs MTntosh went to help Mrs Roy with Marget, who had come home to bear and nurse the eon of some plausible- rascal.

It was when Kathie was 18 and a fine strapping lass that she set off to the "big toon." She was fortunate, and at once secured a "place" and a home in the service of a grocer, who was doing good trade and. beginning to be able to afford help to his wife, and to need assistance in his business as well. The grocer's wife had no bairns, and Kathie soon became as a daughter to her. The mistress had to teach a girl who had been brought up like Kathie, a great many things. No mistress ever had a brighter or more willing learner. For six years they were together, not only as mistress and maid, but as loving companions, or, as I have said before, as mother and grown-up daughter. During the same time an apprentice had grown to manhood and journeyman - ship under the judicious care of the grocer and his wife. Yes, his wife, for in those days apprentices lodged and boarded in the houses of their masters. A story of that time used to be much relished as illustrative of the manner of certain canting, hypocritical merchants—perhaps not peculiar to that time—who with holy palaver cheated their customers, while they overworked their apprentices. The story* was that such a one called oyer the stairs about bedtime to his apprentice, still at work in the cellar: "Are you there, John?" "Yes, sir." "Have you watered the rum?" "Yes, sir." *Have you wet the tobacco?" '.'Yes, sir." "Have you sanded the brown sugar?" "Yes, sir." "Come up to prayers, then." But Manzie Mungaw was not treated in that way. As Kathie Tosh was treated by the mistress with all dutiful loving kindness, so was he by his master in respect to hours, work, and teaching of the business. The mistress and Kathie looked to his

food, his clothes, his health, and his general comfort. The four lived together in the same house for six years like loving memh»% of one family—parents and children.

Only Manzie and Kathie, about the end of the fifth year, when the former's apprenticeship was closing, began to develop something different from a sister-and-brother feeling between them. It is doubtful if that sort of feeling ever possessed them. During the sixth year, to all outwards appearances, there never were- a pair of more sincere lovers. Their master and mistress observed their mutual attachment, and were highly gratified. Yet, like cautious Scotch folk, they had never spoken words of love to one another. Loving looks and kindly, helpful deeds constituted the outward symptoms of their mutual esteem. In the autumn of the sixth year the master was taken ill, and the business needed all Manzie's attention. The master proposed to give him an interest in the business, and hinted that he and Kathie should just get married quietly, and stayon where they were. Their Avages and whatever else they could save would ctand them in good stead afterwards when they, should move into a house of their own.

I leave the reader to imagine the scene and the endearments of the long-pent-up pair. Suffice it to say that both were happy to agree to the generous proposal. Kathie wrote to tell her father and mother that she and Manzie were to be married very soon, and detailed the circumstances and the advantages. She bad referred to him from time to time in her letters home as the " 'prentice lad." She now let them know that he was out o? his time a year before, and was now to be a partner in the master's business. They were also to stay on where they were for some time, etc. She did not state that Manzie had stayed on after his time was served just for her sake. Perhaps she did not know this, for Manzie had never told her. He was very discreet, was Manzie.

The parents in the moorland cot never answered that letter, for a reason that shall be told in another chapter. Nevertheless the pair were married very quietly. The master and t„e mistress wished it to be done in the parlour, so that they could attend. The usual proclamations were made in the parish church; yet most of those who heard knew nothing of the parties proclaimed. Kathie Tosh and Man si e Mungaw were fairly well known in one part of the city, but who were Katharine M'lntosh and Magnus Ballingall? Kathie, with apron on, ushered in the minister and a few guests, and, putting off the apron, stood up with Magnus and was soon made Mrs Bollingall. CHAPTER 11. It would seem that the excitement and exertion necessary to his appearing at the wedding had "been too much for the old grocer. The guests had scarcely disappeared when he was seeking to get to bed again. In the act of undressing he was struck down, some said, by paralysis, others by apoplexy. Whichever it was, he never recovered consciousness. His sudden demise prevented the ful*

filment of all his kindly intentions toward his valued assistant. His will, too, was left incomplete, and certain greedy re_ations of his claimed their rights to halt of the intestate estate. A £'« business had to be sold to satisfy thmi demands. The widow, with only halt ot the proceeds,- was unable to continue, and, however willing she might have been to do so, she had not the experience and knowledge of buying that is necessary to conduct a profitable retail business, i 1 ui - ther, her health was not good. Toung Ballingall’s experience and acquaintance with the trade did give him confidence enough to take the sole management of the business. It was a plain case of “sell out and shut up shop. He must therefore seek employment elsewhere. He had always had a wish to go to Liyeipool, Or even London, to get some insight into English methods of shop-keeping. He might also get better wages and save some monev, and then return to Scotland again. He could then start business as a merchant. So he built castles in the air. He tried a good deal -to get a billet in -y Glasgow, so as to settle down with Kathie, but - the mistress and Kathie’s arrangements helped him in his desire to go south. _. The mistress took a cottage in the district where she had been so long known, and begged Kathie to come and be. her companion until Magnus could secure a E'utled place. So he, finding a boat ready sail, went off to Liverpool to seek work d experience, and his wife remained Vith her loved mistress in Glasgow. That nistress, never-, strong in health, had been vorn out in body by the lengthened. illeas of her “ gudeman.” He had, indeed, been a good man to her. The circumstances of his death and the disagreeable disarrangement and stoppage of his business had talso broken her usually Wpyant spirit. The excitement of removVig to a strange house and getting used t it and its surroundings had, for the *nie, upheld her; but they made the nllapse .all the more severe for her. For Jbur months she grew weaker and weaker ; then a “drew” cast her down altogether. (We would nowadays call it an attack of influenza.) She was confined -to her bedroom, and could only get up now and again to enjoy the change of comfort that her big armchair afforded. She was always lovingly and carefully attended to by Kathie. ; ~ The two had been in the cottage littl j more than seven months when the old woman died as suddenly as her husband had. If it had not been term time Kathie might have been left alone without ready money. But just the day before her mistress had sent her to pay the rent, and when, she returned with the receipt she was given not only her wages then due, but also a liberal bonus for her. extra attention during such a trying time. Something special was also added as a marriage present, which had been forgotten at the right time. It seemed as if the. old dame was acting under some presentiment 01 / a sudden death in the near future. Kathie would have refused any extra compensation for doing her duty, but her mistress reminded her that she had someone else to think of now. There was no saying, she said, when Mansie might send for. her, and even though it should take him as long again to get settled, Kathie must soon be preparing ; for motherhood. So Kathie took all she was offered. Anv previous savings she had always forwarded to her parents. The old woman’s relatives turned out to he as great harpies as those of the groter, turning out the contents of Kathie’s “ ain wee kist,” and compelling her to account for -everything in her possession. She was glad when she got her box and bundles transferred to a lodging not far off. To the room which she had taken she also removed Mansie’s chief possessions- and a larger box of her own containing house linen and other household furnishings, which had been placed in a common storage till they should be required. In this lodging Kathie had resolved to await advice from her husband —at least, sh-e would remain a month-, and if no word came she would go home to her mother. The month passed, and she stayed another week.' Then she hurriedly made arrangements with the storage neonle to keep all her and her husband’s boxes, prepaying storage for three months. With a bundle such as she would be able to carry when need be. she set off by coach towards her home—the homo of her childhood.—which she had not been near for nearly seven years. 'She had left it when scarcely out of her girlhood, and was cording back to it a. married woman, soon to be a mo the’-. She would find out now wbv her mother, or even her father, had not written to her lately, and had not repliod to bar to reioice—nr, at Last, say anything about her marriage. They were - sure to }mr for its sudden ness, since she had written telling them all about it. Thev bad not answered her last letter about the death of her mistress, and "bout her reason for taking a lodging. Tbev must have got la. t week’s note telling them she was coming home. Her , father, and. m-avbe. her mother, too. would b° meeting the coach. Hut no one was there to meet her! ‘■bir-elv tbor-e- oo,i]d be nothing wrong with them? With- nerbirbed. anxion* mind sb<* niei-ed nn her Tumble and took the hill road aP too siwgHlv. Kathie, was a very tired rod exhausted woman wb°n she rpacbor! W’dnw Rmi’s cottage, within sight of her home. But Widow Eov w,as no lon—or +h-ore. Sbc died, and Was buried t-bro" —-u-|to”s be^orp, Kathie knew this, rnd that Market Rov and her sou we-o still there. Ma-rget. was nucommonb’ flust' —od. "id svmna-thet-callv moved on so"]’’’" Katbie. Afl-er a short nest and inquiry about her father and mother. Kathie bad to n-ush on, Hr the we.arv rood bad bur-P-d be>- travail Marget accompanied her to heln her on the way, and to aid Mrs MTntosh, if only bv

care that Kathie's bundle should no longer burden her. It was left behind.

Kathie's father saw them, and hurried across the moor to assist, for the poor lass was battling hard to be Ixcne. She could not speak to her father, but she took her purse from her dress> and pushed it into his hands, to be cut of the way of Marget Roy's too familiar fingers. When Kathie was landed in her mother's arms, she scarce had strength to return her embrace. Both were speechless: the mother from, joy and excitttnuent, the daughter from agony. Marget hurried the almost unconscious lass to bed, and helped to undress her. While the another took off the shoes and stockings, Marget undid the dress and stealthily snatched from the poor woman'6 besom a packet of letters and other documents, which she tbeftuously transferred to her own pocket. The theft was unnoticed by Mis M'lntosh. As has happened in many cases, the birth of the firstborn was the death. of the young mother. Her sigh of relief was given with her last breath. She had lapsed into unconsciousness, from which the anxious mother and ••her less anxious assistant could not arouse her. No doctor was near, and certainjy none could have been got in time. When old Angus told the particulars of his death to the session clerk, that they might be written in the Book of Burials, he could not tell for certain whether his daughter was married or not. But he was sure she must have been.

Likewise, when afterwards he and his wife took upon themselves the vows of baptism with respect to their grandson, there was no better, tale to be entered in the Book of Baptisms; but Angus forbade them, in the absence of evidence, to write the child down as "Donald, the illegitimate, son of Katharine," etc. So he Was registered as "Donald, the only and first-born son of Katharine, now deceased, only child of Angus M'lntesh, shepherd, and Katharine,, his spouse.'^ All this did net hinder the few people who knew anything about him from speaking of him among themselves as "Katey Tosh's bastard." Foremost among the evil-speaking ones was Marget Roy, who, for more than one reason, ought to have been silent. But some women are like cows, which will gore one of their fallen mates to death. I who write have seen them at it. It is wonderful how many •two-legged cows there are ! CHAPTER 111. "Sticks an' stanes will break yer banes, but names will never hurt ye." Wee Donald, his granny's bohnie curlyhaired laddie, and grandfaither's boy, oe, and joy, grew, and waxed strong in limbs and lusty of lungs. It was not long ere the dogs answered his call on the hillsides as readily as they did his grandfather's. But that curly hair of their pet was to the old people a source of hope and a strengthener of faith. was a mark of distinction. None of the M'lntoshes, -Angus said, ever had curjy hair; and granny was sure that "nane o' her folk had." So they lived in hope that strengthened as the boy grew in height and beauty. For; truly, he was "a braw, braw lad." To consummate their hope they resolved, when he was old enough for it, that 'Angus should take him to Glasgow; and to that part of it where Kathie had lived so long, and there apprentice him to a grocer. There Donald would scon "father" himself, if Kathie's husband were alive and. staying in the neighbourhood. Their faith in Kathie's goodness never wavered. They were sure she had been married and would have told them all about it, had she had time. Marget Roy, on being asked, said she had been told nothing. They had frequently talked the matter over dining. Donald's boyhood. It was the one subject of interest to them, and they repeated the arguments to one another, as if to strengthen faith and hope in each other. All this made them most loving and careful of Kathie's orphan boy. They looked after him, not alone as the only thing they had to replace her in their affections, or as their only grandchild, but as a trust with a mission. That mission was to find out who was Kathie's husband and the father of wee Donald.

They 'reasoned that he must have been away from Glasgow when Kathie canne home to them. No man who loved her could have deserted her. She had meet likely found a husband among the grocers. Kathie had not "the scrape of a pen among her bits o' things" that. M-arget Roy brought to them. Angus wrote, or, rather, got the minister to write, to the old grocer that Kathie had lived with, but his letter was returned to him, endorsed "Place closed; parties dead." This confirmed thsm in their opinion that Kathie's husband had been absent, and in their resolution with .respect to the future of her child. The reader must remember that, a century ago, communication was both slow and difficult as well a.s dear. Penny postage, railways, and telegraphs were not in existence.

Till he was 16, and almost as expert a shepherd as his grandfather, Donald remained summering and wintering on the shoulders of the Grampians. Then Angus took him to the city, and succeeded in apprenticing him for five years to a grocer in the same division of it its Kathie had been in. You may be sure that he looked for a grocer, or a grocer's assistant of such age and appearance as he fancied Kathie's man would then be. And always the first mark sought for was a "curly pow." But there wasn't a curly-haired grocer in Glasgow who had tfi© slightest likeness to Donald M.'lntosh.

So old Angus, after telling the young fellow to keep his ears open to anything that might lead to the discovery of his father, took his way home again. To my mind Donald had a more difficult quest than that of "Japhet in search of a father." His fellow apprentices seem to have gob an. inkling of his desire, and

nothing pleased them better than to inquire why he was not content with being' just a bastard. He was his own man, said they, and h.ad no family to live up to.- Fathers were not all they were cracked up to be, etc. "You should know best, you who have , fathers," retorted Donald. He .was no I dolt, though he was at first "gey Heelant," with his suit of homespun and ! homely, mixed speech. These, however, ' he threw off together when he donned a j city-made suit, ' and by the end of his ; apprenticeship he was a full-grown, man, ' and a fine, stalwart, six-foot man at that. He was of a handsome, prepossessing appearance, and his outstanding mark of beauty was his '"curly pow."

CHAPTER IV. Being at complete freedom for the first time for five years, Donald made the first use of it to/go home. j If Margaret Roy was flustered at sight of Kathie 21 years before, she was more so now when she saw Donald come, back looking so grand and successful-like, in spite of all her scheming and lying against him. He was now a man, experienced and able to look into things. So there ! was fear .as the foundation of her fluster. Donald could make nothing of it, except that it was the result of the lonely life she led, seldom seeing strangers. Himself she had not seen for five years, and he was so changed as ■ to be almost a stranger. So he reasoned with himself a 3 he went on. Although he was no prodigal son returning home, yet the old man, who was Out on the hill with his flock, "saiv him when he was yet afar off, and ran. and fell on his neck and kissed him/' . Shepherds have a good long-distance sight, even in old age. Granny was like to dance with joy to see her "curly-haired laddie grown to be so handsome, and to think that he should take his very first holiday to come and see them! " Where else would ye have me go, granny?" said he. "Ay! where else? an' what for no?" queried Angus. So they made merry, and talked of—well, what could they talk about, think you? A little of the shop, a little of the sheep* and ,a great many times of the subject of their faith and hope. For the old question, " Wha was Donald's faither?" had been an ever-recurring theme-with Angus and his old wife. It was a mania with them", and Donald, having never felt the want of father or mother, was put about by their harping always on the same tune. At length, for the purpose. ,of changing the argument j to some extent, he made a proposition ' and a promise. He proposed that, as soon as he secured an assistantship with j sufficient salary, he .should > take them 1 both to Glasgow to keep house and home , for him, and he would take care of them all their days. Oh! they were proud of | their boy! They were tearfully happy ; and hopeful, and granny said to Angus: "Then you'll be able to go oot an' poke j aboot, an' see what you can hear." Their i hopes rose. j As one. or two of Donald's letters to them during the five years had gone amissj ing, he was not without suspicions of Marget Roy. Without mentioning his suspicions, he asked his grandfather if it would not be better to send their letters by the post office of an adjacent tuarish on the east. The distance was a good j deal less, and the parish was more pepu- ! lous than their own, and many more j letters coming and going. There wa:> ■ always safety in numbers. He also proI mised to write more frequently and regui larly. j ," Only a business man would hae thocht i o' that, noo!" cried granny, who had a great admiration for her Donald. Thus it w!as arranged, and Marget Roy was kept ignorant of what was goin,* on, .and fear killed her soul. Something new and quite as disturbing to her troubled it when, in ( the autumn, she heard that Mr and Mrs M'lntcsb were leaving their cottage and were going to live in Glasgow with Donald, and that Angus had recommended her son, Mai colm, to fill his place as chief sheoherd. Angus had trained the young man, and knew his worth. The new thing that now troubled Marget's soul was "gratitude," and it had the effect of stirring I to life her dormant conscience. The employment and excitement of "flitting " somewhat counteracted the efforts of the new feeling. But ever and anon there came to her hands some implement or convenience that Angus had made, and Mrs Tosh, as Marget called her, had kindly left for her and her son. Then Malcolm was always singing the old folk's I praises, and every kind word of h : & I rubbed the fresh and tender-skin of he' - new-born conscience. It was too much for her. Just when the little cottage was I again set in order, Mareret collapsed. M.a,l- ---:' colm thought that she had been working i beyond her strength. This was quite true. ! She had gone off her food. Those who do I not eat cannot work. She also passed sleepless nights. Insomnia oft leads tc insanitv. A certain innate honesty p.,nd a resolution saved her reason and her ', health. One morning she asked- Malcolm, to I pet .a cart and drive her down to see the doctor. He obeyed. After gettinsr some i simple medicine from the man of pills she j went to the manse and had a long mter- . view with the minister. While returning home she seemed to Malcolm, to be very much better of the jannt. Her appetite had come back, and she ate eagerly of soma bannocks and cheese that, he had brought with. him. It was not the doctor's medicine that had done, her good, for that wan still .in her pocket. j What (had ha-opened at the manse, then? She 'looked less woe-begone when she came out than she did before she went in. This had .happened: iShe had confessed to the minister all her wickedness gainst the MTntoshes, her theft and upholding of their letters and other docu-

ments, and all her lying and false-faced-ness. She delivered into his hands all the letters and papers, among which, the reader will easily surmise, was the kev to the old folk* 'quest and the proof of their faith in Kathie—the missing "marriage lines." Marget was now as anxious to make amends as before she had been keen to hurt. She would even go to prison if need be. [She didn't think that "she had risked hanging, but' she had.] She was thoroughly penitent. The minister prayed for the strengthening of her new heart, and for guidance for himself. in the matter. He sent Marget home with the assurance that he would plead for her with Mr and Mrs MTntosh and their grandson. Thus it wa3 that she had greater tranquillity on her return journey. Truly, "an open eonfes sion is good for the soul." It restores the moral and mental equilibrium. CHAPTER V. And how had Angus and his wife been faring in Glasgow? They, too, had been settling in a new house, and .finding things much more different and improved thaai Marget Roy had been finding them in their old cottage. At the old house on the braeside they had no near neighbours; here, in Glasgow, neighbours lived on all sides' and overlooked them. If Angus addressed a respectable person he was stared at as if he were committing a misdemeanour. If he spoke to a poor-looking man, wishing him "Good day!" he had to be careful lest he got "cheek." If the party spoken to was plausible and talkative, he would either be wanting to amuse himself at "pulling the Heelandman's leg," or he would finish with a desire to borrow. But, as I have said of young Donald, I may say of his grandfather, he was no dolt. -

Helping his wife to arrange the furniture that Donald had procured, and watching and admiring Donald as, in his JtUsure hours, he did many things that improved the appearance of their home at very little expense, at first took up so much of the old man's time that he had small Opportunity to expose himself to be stared at, or, to be made a butt of. All this settling and sorting quite banished from their minds their special quest. But one day granny, seeing him sitting idle, while "her hand was in her hussifskep," said to him quite seriously, --"Ye sud gang oot noo, Angus, man, on' see what's what, an' wha's wha, an' —an'—wha was Donal's faither." And Angus took it quite seriously, too, and went out to inquire. I must here tell you of the good fortune of Donald —how he fell on his feet at his first essay to get employment, after returning from his holiday. Glasgow was having one of its increasing booms, and new grocery stores and other retail shops were being opened. A Glasgow-bred merchant, who had been in England for over 20 years, had returned, and had opened one of the largest of the new groceries. He wanted a fully qualified assistant — one who knew the city preferred. Donald thought that he was the very man for the billet, and applied at once. His account o$ himself was corroborated by testimonials and references. Moreover, his appearance and address were mttch in his. favour. He was engaged at a good wage for a probationary period. When that period ended, his employer, whose name was Magnus Ballingall, re-engaged him at an advanced salary, under conditions as to hours and with the usual trade perquisites. It was after this that Doinald sent for his grand-parents and established them beside him in the new home.

Mr Ballingall —he was, of course, our eld friend, Man&ie Mungaw—was from the very first much taken with Donald,: and with the surname, M'lntosh. He saw the likeness to himself in the young man—that is, the. likeness to himself of what he had been at the age when he and Kathie Tosh were sweethearts and epouses. And for nearly twenty-two years Kathie and he had been lost to one another!

Donald -liked his master's kind, fatherly face, but never thought of tracing a resemblance between himself and a baldheaded man with a fringe of grey and brown frizzly hair. But that very day on which granny despatched Angus on the old quest, he (Angus), seated in the shop after a tiresome walk on the - payed ctreets, in which nothing was accomplished, saw and studied the likeness. He saw also little. attitudes and actions of deportment that were common to both. Most of them had s been peculiar to Donald from his boyhood. He had not learned them from this man in a few weeks. Oh, no ! Still, he might be an uncle, a brother, or even a cousin. Such things run in families, like features. He must be cau-** tious. Yet he must inquire. While_ the two were serving customers he noticed, tco, that their very voices sounded alike, as a father's and his son's should. He must consider. He must tell granny first, As he was thus communing with himself, the customers had been served and had departed, and he was still in doubt about speaking and how to begin, when, in upon them came hurrying the minister, who had heard Marget Roy's confession, saying—'"Oh, it looks like the finger of God directing me! My friend, Angus, I have found that which was lost—Kathie's marriage lines!" Then the minister turned to the merchant and said, " Will you kindly read these lines and tell us if they concern you.?" Magnus Ballingall had only to_ look at his own signature and that of Katherine M'lntosh to be certain that he too had found—oh! how much! From the minis iter he asked, ' f Where is my wife, Kathie?"

"She lied in giving birth to a son, who has grown up into this youmg man. She died in the house of her father and mother, where she arrived only at the moment of travail, and unable to explain. A thievish, evil-minded neighbour while lending assistance, stole the packet, which Mr© Ballingall carried in her bosom, and -spread lies about her. Her

father and mother have always had faith in her. The evil woman has only now, since Mr and Mrs M'lntosh left us, come to a consciousness of her sin, and, but two days ago, handed the packet to me, with a prayer for mercy. Do you acknowledge. Donald to be your son, sir?" " I have the greatest pleasure in doing so. My heart warmed to-him at our very first meeting. I knew -not why; but I know now. I have much to explain to Mr and Mrs M'lntosh, in which, both Donald and you, sir, will be interested. Let us all go to Mrs M'lntosh. Donald, if Mr and Mrs M'lntosh are your grand* ■father and grandmother, they must be my father and mother. We'll go and see granny. Shut the shop for three horns, Donald, my son." Mansie's explanations were wholly satisfactory to the father and mother of Kaithie, and they were very happy and wonderfully proud of their belated son-in-law. Mansie, too, was pleased with his Kathie's. parents. That he was pleased with and proud of his son was indicated to the public by a change of the title above the . shop door: "M. "Ballingall and Son, grocers, etc."

It was when inquisitive acquaintances heard the romantic story connected with this change, and learned of the old people's faith and search, that the wholu became crystallised in the triple query, that has grown into a sort of proverb long eclipsing its origin: "What's what, an' wha's wha, an' wha was Dorah'a faither?"

Marget Roy was pardoned by those living whom she sinned against, in so far that they aook no proceedings against her.