He was a public nuisance that night, and knocked various people up after they had gone to bed, to tell them that Gavinia was to have him.  He was eventually led home by kindly though indignant neighbours; but early morning found him in the country, carrying the news from farm to farm.

“No, I winna sit down,” he said; “I just cried in to tell you Gavinia is to hae me.”  Six miles from home he saw a mud house on the top of a hill, and ascended genially.  He found at their porridge a very old lady with a nut-cracker face, and a small boy.  We shall see them again.  “Auld wifie,” said Corp, “I dinna ken you, but I’ve just stepped up to tell you that Gavinia is to hae me.”

It made him the butt of the sportive.  If he or Gavinia were nigh, they gathered their fowls round them and then said:  “Hens, I didna bring you here to feed you, but just to tell you that Gavinia is to hae me.”  This flustered Gavinia; but Grizel, who enjoyed her own jokes too heartily to have more than a polite interest in those of other people, said to her:  “How can you be angry!  I think it was just sweet of him.”

“But was it no vulgar?”

“Vulgar!” said Grizel.  “Why, Gavinia, that is how every lady would like a man to love her.”

And then Gavinia beamed.  “I’m glad you say that,” she said; “for, though I wouldna tell Corp for worlds, I fell likit it.”

But Grizel told Corp that Gavinia liked it.

“It was the proof,” she said, smiling, “that you have the right to marry her.  You have shown your ticket.  Never give it up, Corp.”

About a year afterwards Corp, armed in his Sunday stand, rushed to Grizel’s house, occasionally stopping to slap his shiny knees.  “Grizel,” he cried, “there’s somebody come to Thrums without a ticket!” Then he remembered Gavinia’s instructions.  “Mrs. Shiach’s compliments,” he said ponderously, “and it’s a boy.”

“Oh, Corp!” exclaimed Grizel, and immediately began to put on her hat and jacket.  Corp watched her uneasily.  “Mrs. Shiach’s compliments,” he said firmly, “and he’s ower young to be bathed yet; but she’s awid to show him off to you,” he hastened to add. “‘Tell Grizel,’ was her first words.”

“Tell Grizel”!  They were among the first words of many mothers.  None, they were aware, would receive the news with quite such glee as she.  They might think her cold and reserved with themselves, but to see the look on her face as she bent over a baby, and to know that the baby was yours!  What a way she had with them!  She always welcomed them as if in coming they had performed a great feat.  That is what babies are agape for from the beginning.  Had they been able to speak they would have said “Tell Grizel” themselves.

“And Mrs. Shiach’s compliments,” Corp remembered, “and she would be windy if you would carry the bairn at the christening.”

“I should love it, Corp!  Have you decided on the name?”

“Lang syne.  Gin it were a lassie we were to call her Grizel—­”