-glass of Old Time. The day arrived when everything was to be sold by public roup. A great company of friends, neighbours, and acquaintances gather

on so long foretold by the Cassandra-croak of her aunt, had at length actually arriv

ing herself in the manger, began weeping afresh. After a while, the fountain of tears was for the time exhausted, and she sat disconsolately gazing at the old cow feeding away, as if food were everything and a roup nothing at all, when footsteps approached the byre, and, to her dismay, two men, whom she did not know, came in, untied Brownie, and actually led her away from before her eyes. She still stared at the empty space where Brownie had stood,-star

ound that yesterday would not stay amongst her dreams. Brownie's stall was empty. The horses were all gone, and many of the cattle. Those that remained looked like creatures forgotten. The pigs were gone, and most of the

id not care what came next. For an hour the box stood on the floor like a coffin, and then Betty came, with red eyes and a red nose, and carried it downstairs. Then auntie came up again, dressed in her Sunday clothes. She put on Annie's best frock and bonnet-adorning the victim for sacrifice-at least, so Annie's face would have suggested-and led her down to the door. There stood a horse and cart. In the cart was some straw, and a sack stuffed with hay. As auntie was getting into the cart, Betty rushed out from somewhere upon Annie, caught her up, kissed her in a vehement and disorderly m

directions, standing beside the black holes whence they had been dug. These holes were full of dark water, frightful to look at; while along the side of the road went deep black ditches half-full of the same dark water. There was no danger of the cart getting into them, for the ruts were too deep to let the wheels out; but it jolted so dreadfully from side to side, as it crawled along, that Annie was afraid every other mome

ad been heard of in those quarters. A few faces were pressed close to the window-panes as the cart passed; and some rather untidy women came to the house-doors to look. And they spoke

"She's gaein hame to bide wi' her cousin, Rober

ie had been informed

for the absorption of this grief, she could not have been indifferent to the prospect of going to live with her cousin, although

s, built of grey stone, and thatched. The heavy door was between two windows belonging to the shop, in each of which burned a single tallow candle, revealing to the gaze of Annie, in all the enhancing mystery of candlelight, what she could not but regard as a perfect mine of

lped her down, turned to take Annie. Dowie had been before him, however, and now held the pale child silent in his arms. He carried h

-full of turnip-seed; and upon it Annie sa

the shop. Bruce was holding the cou

cup o' tay, efter yer j

gae hame again. There's a hantle to look efter yet, and we maun

ng to Anni

irn, and do as ye're tell't. An' min'

face at the sound of this injunction. Annie made

aid her aunt, and roused h

that she had ever given her-and went out. Bruce followed her

id lass, and ye'll be ta'en care o'. Dinn

e set her down again, and went out. She heard the harness r

morandum of the day and the hour when Annie was set down on that same sack-so methodical was he! And yet it was some time before he seemed to awake to the remembrance of the pre

, are ye t

her by the hand through the mysterious gate of the counter,

, ye're

ous-looking woman appeared,

e, "come to bide wi's. Gie her a biscuit,

took Annie by the hand in silence, and led her up two narrow stairs, into a small room with a skylight. There, by the shine of th

hout light, for she found it unpleasant not to know what was next her in the dark. But the fate of Brownie and of everything she had loved came back upon her; and t