the words—­“It looks as if it hadna been swept for seven years.”  Next she washed the dishes, which had been left on the table, indulging in the appropriate monologue implying the necessity of the work.  Thereafter it appeared as if she was dissatisfied with the progress of the fire, for she was presently engaged in using the bellows, every blast of which was heard by the quaking couple in bed, and between the blasts the words came, “Ower late for Tammas’s breakfast.”  So the blowing continued, till it was apparent enough, from the reflection of the flame on the wall, that she was succeeding in her efforts.  Then, having made herself sure of the fire, she went to the proper place for the porridge goblet, took the same and put a sufficient quantity of water therein, placed it on the fire, and began to blow again with the same assiduity as before, with still interjected sentences expressive of her confidence that she would overcome the obstinacy of the coals.  And overcome it she did, as appeared from the entire lighting up of the kitchen.  Was ever Border Brownie so industrious!  Some time now elapsed, as if she were sitting with due patience till the water should boil.  Thereafter she rose, and they saw her cross the kitchen to the lobby, where the meal was kept, then return with a bowl containing what she no doubt considered a sufficient quantity.  The stirring utensil called a “theedle” had also got into its proper place, and by-and-by they heard the sound of the same as it beat upon the bottom and sides, guided by an experienced hand, and, every now and then, the sweltering and totling of the pot.  This process was now interrupted by the getting of the grey basin into which the porridge behoved to be poured; and poured it was, the process being followed by the sound of “the clauting o’ the laggan,” so familiar to Scotch ears.  “Now it’s ready for him,” said the figure, as it moved across the kitchen again, to get the spoon and the bowl of milk, both of which they saw her place beside the basin.

All things being thus completed according to the intention of the industrious worker, a period of silence intervened, as if she had been taking a rest in the chair which stood by the fire.  A most ominous interlude, for every moment the couple in bed expected that she would enter the bedroom, were it for nothing else than to “intimate breakfast;” an intimation which, if one could have judged by their erect hair and the sweat that stood in big drops on their brows, they were by no means prepared for.  They were not to be subjected to this fearful trial, for the figure (so we must persist in calling it) was seen again to cross the kitchen, take down the plaid, and adjust it over the head according to the manner of the times.  They then heard her draw the bolt, open the door, and shut the same again after her as she departed.  She was gone.