the mantymaker i’ the Kottenrow, said it wis a perfect wonder,
that my mither wud need to tak’ great care o’ my head, and
no’ let it grow ower fast, for I wis real fond o’ readin’ pictur books
and the like; being a bit thin slip o’ a lassie, I believe it
wis thocht my head micht grow to be ower muckle for my
bodily system.
I don’t know whether ony o’ them ever jaloosed I should write a book, as I have been advised to do by twa edicated professional men, but I min’ ance Beeny Fortune, the spaewife, ca’d when my faither wis at a meetin’ o’ the cordiners, just efter the last time we had been at the Dispensary. My mither made the spaewife some unco strong tea, and sent me oot a message. I could see the bottom and sides o’ Beeny’s cup were black wi’ the tea grunds, and my mither’s face wis flushed and happy-like, when I got back.
“ Martha,” she says, laying her hands on my shouther efterhin’ when we were by oorsels, “ ye maunna tell yer faither that Beeny Fortune wis here. Aye try to do what's richt; dinna forget to read yer Bible, my lassie, and mind ye dinna gang near the College efter gloamin’—for it’s borne in on me, and I canna help sayin’t, that whaever leeves to see it, ye’ll be a credit to us yet.”
I kent Beeny Fortune had been tellin’ her something, but I held my tongue.
Aboot this time an important incident happened in the family, which I maunna forget to tell. A cousin o’ my mither’s, a major in the East India army, had come hame wi’ a pension, and settled wi’ a young wife—an English leddy that he had got on the wye hame—in a nice bit self-contained hoose in the neighbourhude o’ Partickhill, no’ far frae the river Kelvin. Weel, as they had nae weans o’ their ain, naething wud please him but he wud hae me to bring up. My faither
