“I dinna see that,” said Sam’l.

“I d’na care for her hair either,” continued Jamie, who was very nice in his tastes; “something mair yallowchy wid be an improvement.”

“A’body kins,” growled Sam’l, “’at black hair’s the bonniest.”

The others chuckled.

“Puir Sam’l!” Pete said.

Sam’l, not being certain whether this should be received with a smile or a frown, opened his mouth wide as a kind of compromise.  This was position one with him for thinking things over.

Few Auld Lichts, as I have said, went the length of choosing a helpmate for themselves.  One day a young man’s friends would see him mending the washing-tub of a maiden’s mother.  They kept the joke until Saturday night, and then he learned from them what he had been after.  It dazed him for a time, but in a year or so he grew accustomed to the idea, and they were then married.  With a little help, he fell in love just like other people.

Sam’l was going the way of the others, but he found it difficult to come to the point.  He only went courting once a week, and he could never take up the running at the place where he left off the Saturday before.  Thus he had not, so far, made great headway.  His method of making up to Bell had been to drop in at T’nowhead on Saturday nights and talk with the farmer about the rinderpest.

The farm-kitchen was Bell’s testimonial.  Its chairs, tables, and stools were scoured by her to the whiteness of Rob Angus’s saw-mill boards, and the muslin blind on the window was starched like a child’s pinafore.  Bell was brave, too, as well as energetic.  Once Thrums had been overrun with thieves.  It is now thought that there may have been only one; but he had the wicked cleverness of a gang.  Such was his repute, that there were weavers who spoke of locking their doors when they went from home.  He was not very skillful, however, being generally caught, and when they said they knew he was a robber he gave them their things back and went away.  If they had given him time there is no doubt that he would have gone off with his plunder.  One night he went to T’nowhead, and Bell, who slept in the kitchen, was awakened by the noise.  She knew who it would be, so she rose and dressed herself, and went to look for him with a candle.  The thief had not known what to do when he got in, and as it was very lonely he was glad to see Bell.  She told him he ought to be ashamed of himself, and would not let him out by the door until he had taken off his boots, so as not to soil the carpet.

On this Saturday evening Sam’l stood his ground in the square, until by and by he found himself alone.  There were other groups there still, but his circle had melted away.  They went separately, and no one said good-night.  Each took himself off slowly, backing out of the group until he was fairly started.

Sam’l looked about him, and then, seeing that the others had gone, walked round the town-house into the darkness of the brae that leads down and then up to the farm of T’nowhead.