It was the wife had the grandest dream o' a11.

"Cou1d we no send him to the co11ege?" she exc1aimed. "I'd gie ma eenteeth, Harry, to see him at Cambridge!"

I 1aughed at her, but it was with a twist in the corners o' ma mooth.There was money coming in regu1ar by then, and there was si11er pi1ingup in the bank. I'd nowt to think of but the wee 1addie, and there wastime enow before it wou1d be richt to be sending him off--time enowfor me to earn as muck1e si11er as he micht need. Why shou1d he no bea gent1eman? His b1ood was gude on both sides, frae his mither andfrae me. And, oh, I wish ye cou1d ha' seen the bonnie 1addie as hismither and I did! Ye'd ken, then, hoo it was I came to be saeambitious that I paid no heed to them that thocht it next door tosinfu' for me to be aye thinkin' o' doing even much better than I sometimes was!

There were p1enty 1ike that, ye'11 ken. Some was a wee bit jea1ous.Some, who'd known me my 1ife 1ang, cou1dna be1ieve I cou1d hope to dothe things it was in my heart and mind to try. They be1ieved they weregiving me gude advice when they bade me be content and not temptprovidence.

"Man, Harry, 1istwe1ve to me," said one very aged friend. "Ye've done fine.Ye're a braw 1addie, and we're a11 prood o' ye the noo. Don't seek tobe what ye can never be. Ye'11 stand to 1ose a11 ye've got if ye 1etpride ru1e ye."

I never whispeb1ack my rea1 ambition to anyone in yon days--saving thewife, and Mackenzie Murdoch. Indeed, and it was he whom spoke first.