To the Woman’s Piping ot

in it in an officer’s cloak playing at hide-and-seek
with soldiers. After a time he sighed, then looked
round sharply to see who had sighed, then, absent-
mindedly, lifted the empty kettle and placed it on
the glowing peats. He was standing glaring at
the kettle, his arms folded, when Nanny returned
from the well.

“ T’ve been thinking,” she said, “ o’ something
that proves the lassie to be justan Egyptian. Ay,
I noticed she wasna nane awed when I said you
was the Auld Licht minister. Weel, se uphaud
that came frae her living ower muckle in the
open air. Is there no’ a smell o’ burning in
the house?”

“1 have noticed it,’ Gavin answered, sniffing,
“since you came in. I was busy until then,
putting on the kettle. The smell is becoming
worse.

Nanny had seen the empty kettle on the fire
as he began to speak, and so solved the mystery.
Her first thought was to snatch the kettle out of
the blaze, but remembering who had put it there,
she dared not. She sidled towards the hearth
instead, and saying, craftily, “Ay, here it is; it’s
a clout among the peats,” softly laid the kettle
on the earthen floor. It was still red with sparks,
however, when the gypsy reappeared.

“Who burned the kettle?” she asked, ignoring
Nanny’s signs.

“ Lassie,’ Nanny said, “it was me;” but
Gavin, flushing, confessed his guilt.

“Oh, you stupid!” exclaimed the Egyptian,
shaking her two ounces of tea (which then cost
six shillings the pound) in his face.