"Wheesht, lassie!" he said brokenly. "Dinna you break doon noo, for you
hae been the mainstay o' us a', when we wad hae lost heart often. I used
to think that oor lot couldna be harder, when the bairns were a' wee,
an' we were struggling frae haun' to mooth, to see them fed an' cled.
But wi' a' the hardships, thae days were happy. We were baith young, an'
I was aye fairly healthy an' when we locked the door at nicht, we were
satisfied that a' that belanged to us were inside, an' in safety, even
though their wee stomachs maybe werena' ower fu'. But noo we canna do
that, wife. Some hae gane to where want an' poverty canna hurt them, an'
that is a consolation; but where will oor lassie be, that never gi'ed us
a wrang word a' her days? Is she in want this nicht, the same as we are
oorsels? Will she be hungry an' homeless, ill clad, an' oot in the
storm? If she is, then God peety her. If only we had her aside us,
hunger wad be easier tholed for us a'," and Matthew, unable to control
himself longer, completely broke down and wept, mingling his tears with
those of his wife, because of their misery and poverty and suffering.
The girl outside could hardly restrain herself at thus hearing her
parents speak.
Pages:
338
339
340
341
342
343
344
345
346
347
348
349
350
351
352
353
354
355
356
357
358
359
360
361
362