body in it were to speak the simple truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, in all the affairs of life.

"It wis a'thegither a noble piece o' oratory," Bob was saying, "an' it wid be a grand thing for humanity, Maggie, if we could a' jist act up to the advice we got the nicht. Hoo smoothly and sweetly the wheels o' life wid gang if ilka body was honest and truthfu"."

"Weel, I dinna see ony use in preachin'," replied Mrs. Johnston, "if folk dinna try, at least, to act up to what they're tell't. I'm sure, Bob, it wid be guid for baith o' us to ha'e our bit fauts--for there's naebody free o' them-pointed oot and corrected by them wha ken maist about them."

"Feth, these are guid, plain, sensible words o' yours, Maggie. I'm maybe jist as free frae fauts as maist folk, though I'll admit I'm no a'thegither perfec', an' I dinna ken wha should be sae able to point oot a body's fauts an' correct his failin's as a man's ain wife. It's a capital idea. Noo, supposin' we begin the nicht, Maggie, an', for oor ain edification an' improvement, tell ane anither o' a' the wee bit defec's we may see in ilk ither, so that we may mend oor ways an' improve oor characters, as guid kirkgaun folk ocht to dae."

But hoo div ye think the thing 'ill work, Bob?"

"Nae fear o't workin'. We maun jist aye keep in min' that onything said is for oor guid, an', though we maybe dinna like it, still we maun jist thole, an' mak' the best o't. Like a laddie takin' castor ile, we may grue an' thraw oor mou' a bittie, but, at the same time, we maun tak' oor moral pheesic like sensible folk."

"An' will you begin?"

"Weel, I dinna min', an', seein' it's for baith oor guids, I maun jist caution ye again to see an' tak' onything said in guid pairt. Will ye min' that, na?"

"There's nae fear o' me," replied Mrs. Johnston, firmly. "Ye're shorter i' the grain than me a guid bit, an' much likelier to lose your temper, sae ca' awa', an say yer warst aboot me, gin ye like. It'll no move me, no a bit.

I can stan' finely onything ye can say against me, if ye only speak the truth."

"But keep in min', Maggie, the warst that may be said is a' for oor betterment, an' no to hurt oor feelin's. Keep that aye in view, or I'll no begin."

"I'm mindin' that, guidman, so gang on as sune's ye like; I'm waitin'."

"Weel," began Bob, dubiously, "I think ye'll admit, Maggie, that it wid be a great improvement in this hoose if ye'd rise, say, for instance, an 'oor earlier in the mornin's than ye're in the habit o' daein'."

"I'll admit naething o' the sort, Bob Johnston. I get up in fine time to dae my wark; sae what mair div ye want?"

"There ye are, noo, awa' wi't already, before I ha’e richt got begun. Noo, I'm sure, Maggie, ye ken it has been a lang complaint o' mine aboot gettin' my tea sae close on the back o' my parritch."

"But ye ha'e naething to compleen aboot. Be thankfu’, guidman, ye get tea ava; there's mony a puir creature

has to

"Tuits, tuits, Maggie, that's no' the question ava. I'm sure Willie and Jamsie ha'e often to sup their parritch jist ploutin' het to be in time for the schule, an' escape palmies."

"Ye may talk till doomsday, guidman," replied Mrs. Johnston, with an indignant toss of her head, "but ye'll no get me up afore eicht o'clock, sae ye may let that flee stick to the wa'. Ye'll mak' little by harpin' on that string. I'll gi'e ye full liberty to mak' the parritch yersel gin yer no' pleased, an' surely that's fair eneuch."

Weel, weel, Maggie, let's say nae mair on that point. I ken it's a kittle subject wi' you, an', besides, a'e man may lead a horse to the water, but twenty winna gar him drink; but mind what we agreed to dae was jist in the spirit o' love an' kin'liness to point oot fauts, and leave it to oorsel's to mend them sae far as possible."

"But I dinna see ony faut in lyin' till eicht o'clock. Hooever, I suppose it's my turn noo?"

Yes,

fire awa'; turn aboot's fair play," said Bob. Weel, a' that I ha'e to say is this, that I think ye should try an' tak' the beam frae yer ain e'e before ye look for specs in ither folk's."

66

'Come, come, Maggie, ca' canny, my lass; dinna get excited an' speak havers,-doonricht nonsense, in fact. What are ye bletherin' aboot a beam in my e'e for, eh?"

"I'm no' excited-it's yersel' that's excited, an' it's naething but truth I'm tellin', and finely ye ken that. Ye ha'e muckle mair need to try an' mend yer ain life afore ye try and pick holes in mine."

"Maggie, for ony sake, calm yersel', and think on what ye're sayin'. Let reason an' sense gang thegither, an' let's talk kindly, an' withoot temper-but aboot that beam ye were speakin' o', what div ye mean by a beam in my e'e, Maggie?"

I jist mean this, an' I'm as calm as a judge, and no the least excited, that it wid be tellin' yer wife an' family if ye'd bide in the hoose at nicht a wee oftener than ye dae. If ye canna get me up, I canna get you in, sae pit that in your pipe an' smoke it! Lo'd, the cheek o' some folk castin' up the like o' that!" "But, Maggie

'Jist haud yer weesht, for I'm no' dune. Only to think-rippin' up the like o' that, as if I was some lazy Mrs. M'Clarty, that lay in her bed a' day lang."

"What's the maitter wi' ye, Maggie? Will ye haud yer tongue?" ejaculated Bob, in a vain endeavor to stop the flow of his wife's eloquence.

"Ay, what's the maitter wi' me—ye may weel ask that. There wis naething the maitter wi' me till ye began to tear my character in bits. Me! the mither o' yer bairns; me! that has wrocht the pints aff my fingers to serve ye; me! that has made mysel' yer obedient slave, trottin' aifter ye like a collie doug to mak' ye comfortable and happy; me

"Dinna woman me, ye blackguard that ye are. I sup

pose ye think yersel' perfection, ye nesty conceited creature that ye are. Ye've an awfu' stock o' impidence. Man, the haill toon's talking aboot you an yer daft-like caipers. They say ye ha'e a bee in yer bonnet, an' that ye maun be either hauf-daft, or haill stupid, an'

"Wha says that?" exclaimed Bob, rising in wrath like a lion, and shaking his fist in his wife's face. "Wha says I'm either daft or stupid, or ha'e a bee in my bonnet? But, lo'd, I see, Maggie, ye're jist hatchin' up stories to spite me. Fine like conduct this for a wife to misca' her, ain man, to his vera face, in that way. But that's jist anither o' yer fauts; ye're as fu' o' spite as an egg's fu' o' meat, an' ye're no sweer to tell a lee to get it oot on a body."

"I'm a leear, am I?" said Maggie, in wrath. "Weel, ye're anither. Ye're as big a leear as Tam Pepper, aye, an' a sly drinker to the bargain."

be

"Woman!" shouted Bob, "that tongue o' yours 'ill yer ruin. It could clip cloots. It wags like the clapper o' a bell, an' I dinna believe ye're responsible for its action, or I'd ——”

"Ye'd what?" exclaimed Mrs. Johnston, reaching for the poker; "what wid ye try an' dae? Wid ye lift yer haun' to yer wife? Jis try't."

"I never said I'd lift "No; ye'd better no. mumpin'. It was that yer heart."

"Woman, ye should be ashamed o' yersel'; ye're a lood-tongued randy."

Weel, ye're a paitterin', useless creature." "You're a confirmed gossip."

"You're an upsettin' lump o' deception."
"You're a disgrace to the name o' Johnston."
"You're a credit to naebody that kens ye."

"Ca' awa', ye flytin' vixen. I'll argy-bargy nae mair wi' ye," replied Bob, taking down his pipe from the mantel-piece. "Ye're a sair thorn i' the side o' ony man

that has to pit up wi' ye.

Woman, ye ha'e stabbed me to the vera heart wi' that tongue o' yours this nicht. Ye ha'e misca'd me wi' a' the ill names that could stick aboon ane anither for a' that was bad an' vile. I'll no pit up wi' that ony langer. I'll pit an end to't this nicht. I bear ye nae ill-will, Maggie; guid kens that; but aifter the epithets ye ha'e applied to me, I dinna see hoo this hoose should be disgraced wi' sic a monster as I seem to be. Maybe when I'm awa', and sleepin' aneath the waters o' the Tay, ye'll fa' in wi' a man that'll be kinder an' better to ye than I ha'e been-sae fareweel, Maggie."

"What div ye mean, Bob Johnston?" cried Maggie, starting to her feet in consternation at the solemn tones of her husband.

I jist mean, Maggie, to rid ye at ance an' for ever o' sic a conceited, upsettin', guid-for-naething, hauf-daft incapable an' leear that ye're tied to, an' to gi'e ye anither chance o' daein' better in the future wi' somebody that'll be kinder to ye than I appear to ha'e been. I houp yer next man, Maggie

"Oh, dinna speak that way, for ony sake, Bob," cried Mrs. Johnston, bursting into tears, and placing her hands on her husband's shoulder. "I didna mean what I said, an' fine ye ken that. Oh, what's come owre ye, Bob? Dinna look that way. Think on yer bairns; think on yer wife. It was a' in fun.”

"If it wis fun to you, it wis death to me," said Bob, in a tragic voice.

'But I didna mean't, Bob; an', besides, ye ca'd me as bad as I ca'l you. Sae sit doon, like a man, an' licht yer pipe, an' say nae mair aboot it."

"As sure's ocht, Maggie," said Bob, when he had relighted his pipe, and placed his feet on the fender, “I think we're a couple o' auld fules. I'm dootin' we're baith owre auld i' the horn to become patterns o' virtue in a nicht's time. Character's no made up o' a word or twa o' advice, hooever guid it may be; sae I'm thinkin', Maggie, we maun be content to bear an' forbear wi' ane