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these therty years," says another, "an' ne'er heard tell o' ony body being robbet, in a' my days."
"But I mind o' just sic anither thing happening to auld John Robson, when he came frae the fair o' Glasgow, ae night," said the shoemaker.
"Glasgow!" exclaimed two or three of the women, "Glasgow, by a' accounts, is an unco place for wickedness: but then wha can wonder, whar there's sae mony factories."
"There is muckle gude, as weel as ill in't, Janet," returned the shoemaker.
Mrs Mason, perceiving the dispute likely to grow warm, again entreated them to remember, how much their poor neighbour stood in need of sleep. Her efforts to establish quietness were all exerted in vain. No sooner did one set of people go away, than another set poured in. All in their enquiries, equally friendly, equally loud, and equally loquacious; unfortunately discovering that the poor man
