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I mind there was a right fine story about a herd-laddie killin' a big giant, that one o' the laddies telt me once. You've heard it many a time from me, Jean." "Ah, yes, I know that story too," Grace replied, brightening, as if a glimmer of light had come to her in her perplexity. "And if you will listen, I can tell you another story about a Shepherd, too.
Ye mind how ye read to us in the Bible about him saving the herd-laddie out o' the jaws o' the bear; oh, but, I think, he might have taken care of our Geordie;" and poor little Jean would not be comforted. "Where's granny?" Geordie had whispered, and Elsie rose from her post at Geordie's head and flitted away like a little noiseless ghost to find the old woman.
As we cam' through the scented birks, we saw a trottin' burnie wimplin' 'neath the white-blossomed slaes and hirplin' doon the hillside; an' while a herd-laddie lilted ower the fernie brae, a cushat cooed leesomely doon i' the dale. We pit aff oor shoon, sae blithe were we, kilted oor coats a little aboon the knee, and paidilt i' the burn, gettin' geyan weet the while.
"And what have you to do with Blackie?" asked Grace, glancing across to the hillocks, where some cattle grazed inoffensively, in search of the formidable animal. "I herd him I'm Gowrie's herd-laddie. They're all terrible easy-managed beasts but him, and he's full o' ill tricks.
It was not the moon that could make it so white. "Ginevra!" he said, with trembling voice. "Yes, Donal," she answered. "Ye're no angry at me for ca'in ye by yer name? I never did it afore." "I always call you Donal," she answered. "That's nait'ral. Ye're a gran' leddy, an' I'm naething abune a herd-laddie." "You're a great poet, Donal, and that's much more than being a lady or a gentleman."
You should have an eye upon him, Lilias, my woman, that he doesn't take up with folk that `call evil good, and good evil. It was that was the ruin of Hugh Blair, poor laddie!" "Archie sees no one among the hills that can do him harm," said Lilias, hastily, "only Donald Ross and the Muirlands shepherds, and now and then a herd-laddie from Alliston.
Young Mr Crawford doesn't seem to think that I belong to him, maybe because I go so often to Dunmoor kirk. He hasn't darkened my door but once yet, and he's not like to do it now. They say he's to be married to one of Fivie's daughters; and I mind Fivie a poor herd-laddie. Eh me! but the Lord brings down one and puts up another! To think of the Lady of Pentlands having to leave yon bonny place!
Hungering minds come of peasant people as often as of any, and have appeared in Scotland as often, I fancy, as in any nation; not every Scotsman, therefore, who may not himself have known one like Donal, will refuse to believe in such a herd-laddie.
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