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My father often repeated them to me." And here is the stanza signed with her name: "'Maxwelton's banks are bonnie, They're a' clad owre wi' dew, Where I an' Annie Laurie Made up the bargain true. Made up the bargain true, Which ne'er forgot s'all be, An' for bonnie Annie Laurie I'd lay me down an' dee. "I mind na mair. "August 30, 1854."

If we're goin' t' hev sech flin in Heaven as Deacon Hospur tells on we oughter begin t' practice er we'll be 'shamed uv ourselves. The worst was over. Elizabeth began to laugh. At length a strain of song came out of the distance. 'Maxwelton's braes are bonnie where early falls the dew. 'It's Hope and Uncle Eb, said David while I went for the lantern. 'Wonder what's kep' 'em s' late.

Maxwelton's braes are bonnie, Where early fa's the dew, And 't was there that Annie Laurie Gie'd me her promise true, They were singing now before an old brick house in the lower street. There were syringas in bloom in the yard. A faint light was rising in the east, the stars were fading. Gie'd me her promise true Which ne'er forgot shall be

Isn't it right that I should?" "Oh, yes yes," answered Billy, starting out of his revery. "Of course, yes Maxwelton's braes are bonny um um um um um yes, oh yes." When vexed, pleased, or puzzled, Billy was apt to hum the opening line of "Annie Laurie," though the first four words were all that received the honor of distinct articulation.

It stunned him, crushed him, almost killed him; but he tried to bear up manfully under the weight of his grief. He tried, ah, so hard, not to show his suffering, and Maxwelton's braes, was sung all day and was played nearly all night; but the time had come to Billy when even music could not soothe him.

In the common version this stanza reads: "Maxwelton's braes are bonnie Where early fa's the dew, And it's there that Annie Laurie Gie'd me her promise true; Gie'd me her promise true, Which ne'er forgot will be, An' for bonnie Annie Laurie I'd lay me down an' dee."

He was singing not humming, but singing at his topmost pitch, "Maxwelton's braes are bonny, where early falls the dew." He had never before been known to complete the stanza.

A fishing worm may be a great success as a fishing worm, but a total failure as a mule. Bless me, what a sermon I have preached about nothing. I fear I am growing garrulous," and Billy looked into the fire and hummed Maxwelton's braes. That evening Dic went to call on Rita and made no pretence of wishing to see Tom.

It is impossible.... Nothing can come between them.... But it was a fatal ring for me.... I am almost sorry ... but it can bring no trouble to Dic and Rita ... impossible. But I am almost sorry ... go off, Billy Little; you are growing soft and superstitious ... but it would break her heart. I wonder ... ah! nonsense. Maxwelton's braes are bonny, um, um, um, um, um, um."

"Yes, Billy, I'm alone, and I fear they will follow me. Hide me somewhere. But you'll freeze without your coat. Go and " "Bless me, I haven't my coat and waistcoat on. Excuse me; excuse Maxwelton's I'll be out immediately." And the little old fellow scampered to his bedroom to complete his toilet. Then he lighted a candle, placed wood on the fire, and called Rita back to his sanctum sanctorum.