Wee Macgreegor Enlists | Page 3

me yer size--a hole in a bit
pasteboard. . . .' Speech failed him.
'Me?' she murmured--and shook her head. 'Ye're ower young, Mac,' she
said, gently.
'I'm a year aulder nor you . . . Christina, let's get engaged afore I
gang--say ye will!'
She moved a little way up the counter and became engrossed in the
lurid cover of a penny novel. He moved also until he was directly
opposite.
'Christina! . . . Yer third finger is aboot the same as ma wee yin.'
'Ay; but ye needna remind me o' ma clumsy han's.'
'Play fair,' he said. 'Will ye tak' the ring?'
'I dinna ken, Mac.'
But her hand was in his.
Too soon they heard Miss Tod stirring in the back room.
'If ye spend mair nor a pound on a ring,' said Christina, 'I'll reconsider
ma decision!'
'Ye've decided!' he almost shouted.
'No yet,' she said, with a gesture of dismissal as Miss Tod entered.

BREAKING IT GENTLY
The quest of the right ring occupied the whole of the forenoon, and
Macgregor reached his home in bare time for the family dinner. He
desired to break his news as gently as possible, so, after making, to his
mother's annoyance, a most wretched meal, he said to his father, who
was lighting his pipe, in a voice meant to be natural:
'I got five pound frae Aunt Purdie the day.'
'Ye what!' Mr. Robinson dropped the match, and shouted to his wife,
who, assisted by their daughter, was starting to wash up. 'Lizzie! Did
ever ye hear the like? Macgreegor's got five pound frae his Aunt Purdie!
Dod, but that's a braw birthday----'
'She said it was for accidental expenses,' stammered the son.
Lizzie turned and looked at him. 'What ails ye the day, laddie?'
'Uncle Purdie's gaun to keep ma place for me,' he floundered.

'Keep yer place for ye!' cried John. 'What's a' this aboot accidental
expenses? Ha'e ye got hurt?'
Mrs. Robinson came over and laid a damp hand on her boy's shoulder.
'Macgreegor, ye needna be feart to tell us. We can thole it.' She glanced
at her husband, and said, in a voice he had not often heard: 'John, oor
wee Macgreegor has growed up to be a; sojer'--and went back to her
dishes.
Later, and just when he ought to be returning to his work, Mr.
Robinson, possibly for the mere sake of saying something, requested a
view of the five pounds.
'Ay,' seconded Lizzie, cheerfully, whilst her hand itched to grab the
money and, convey it to the bank, 'let's see them, laddie.' And sister
Jeannie and small brother Jimsie likewise gathered round the hero.
With a feeble grin, Macgregor produced his notes.
'He's jist got three!' cried Jimsie.
'Whisht, Jimsie!' whispered Jeannie.
'Seems to ha'e been a bad accident already!' remarked John, laughing
boisterously.
'John,' said Lizzie, 'ye'll be late. Macgreegor'll maybe walk a bit o' the
road wi' ye.'
They were well on their way to the engineering works, where Mr.
Robinson was foreman, when Macgregor managed to say:
'I burst the twa pound on a ring.'
'Oho!' said John, gaily; then solemnly, 'What kin' o' a ring,
Macgreegor?'
'An engagement yin,' the ruddy youth replied.
Mr. Robinson laughed, but not very heartily. 'Sae lang as it's no a
waddin' ring. . . . Weel, weel, this is the day for news.' He touched his
son's arm. 'It'll be the young lass in the stationery shop--her that ye
whiles see at yer Uncle Purdie's hoose--eh?'
'Hoo did ye ken?'
'Oh, jist guessed. It's her?'
'Maybe. . . . She hasna ta'en the ring yet.'
'But ye think she will, or ye wudna ha'e tell't me. Weel, I'm sure I wish
ye luck, Macgreegor. She's a bonny bit lass, rael clever, I wud say,
an'--an' gey stylish.'
'She's no that stylish--onyway, no stylish like Aunt Purdie.'

'Ah, but ye maunna cry doon yer Aunt Purdie----'
'I didna mean that. But ye ken what I mean, fayther.'
'Oh, fine, fine,' Mr. Robinson replied, thankful that he had not been
asked to explain precisely what he had meant. 'She bides wi' her uncle
an' aunt, does she no?' he continued, thoughtfully. 'I'm wonderin' what
they'll say aboot this. I doobt they'll say ye're faur ower young to be
thinkin' o' a wife.'
It was on Macgregor's tongue to retort that he had never thought of any
such thing, when his father went on----
'An' as for yer mither, it'll be a terrible surprise to her. I suppose ye'U
be tellin', her as sune's ye get back ?'
'Ay. . . . Are ye no pleased about it?'
'Me?' Mr. Robinson scratched his head. 'Takin' it for granted that ye're
serious aboot the thing, I was never pleaseder. Ye can tell