There
is my aunt in the road, you see,' and he locked me in again with
the indignant hens.
I always smile when I recall that young fellow; and yet, if the
reader were to smile also, I should feel ashamed. If my son shall
be only like him when he comes to that age, it will be a brave day
for me and not a bad one for his country.
At the same time I cannot pretend that I was sorry when his sister
succeeded in his place. She brought me a few crusts of bread and a
jug of milk, which she had handsomely laced with whisky after the
Scottish manner.
'I am so sorry,' she said: 'I dared not bring on anything more.
We are so small a family, and my aunt keeps such an eye upon the
servants. I have put some whisky in the milk--it is more wholesome
so--and with eggs you will be able to make something of a meal.
How many eggs will you be wanting to that milk? for I must be
taking the others to my aunt--that is my excuse for being here. I
should think three or four. Do you know how to beat them? or shall
I do it?'
Willing to detain her a while longer in the hen-house, I displayed
my bleeding palms; at which she cried aloud.
'My dear Miss Flora, you cannot make an omelette without breaking
eggs,' said I; 'and it is no bagatelle to escape from Edinburgh
Castle. One of us, I think, was even killed.
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