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for the poor lassie. I trow, said I, Meg, it wad ha' been lang before your mither had set you to sic a turn? Aye, says she, we have new gaits now, and she looket up and leugh."
"New gaits, I trow!" cried Sandy Johnstone's mother, who had just taken her place at the tea-table; "I ne'er kend gude come o' new gaits a' my days. There was Tibby Bell, at the head o' the Glen, she fell to cleaning her kirn ae day, and the very first kirning after, her butter was burstet, and gude for naething. I am sure it gangs to my heart to see your wark sae managed. It was but the day before yesterday, that I cam upon madam, as she was haddin' the strainer, as she called it, to Grizzy, desiring her a' the time she poured the milk, to beware of letting in ane o' the cow's hairs that were on her goon. Hoot! says I, cows hairs are canny, they'll never choak ye." "The fewer of them that are in the butter the better!" says she. "Twa or three
