CHAPTER TWENTIETH."Come ye hither my 'six' good sons,
Gallant men I trow ye be,
How many of you, my children dear,
Will stand by that good Earl and me?"
"Five" of them did answer make—
"Five" of them spoke hastily,
"O father, till the day we die,
We'll stand by that good Earl and thee."
The Rising in the North.
On the morning when we were to depart from Glasgow, Andrew Fairservice bounced into my apartment like a madman, jumping up and down, and singing, with more vehemence than tune,
The kiln's on fire—the kiln's on fire—
The kiln's on fire—she's a' in a lowe.
With some difficulty I prevailed on him to cease his confounded clamour, and explain to me what the matter was. He was pleased to inform me, as if he had been bringing the finest news imaginable, "that the Hielands were
