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windows to the streets were not congenial to the meditations in
which； even now； as I have said； the boy indulged。
These meditations； however； though sometimes as abstruse； if not so
continuous； as those of a metaphysicianfor boys are not
unfrequently more given to metaphysics than older people are able
or； perhaps； willing to believewere not by any means confined to
such subjects： castle…building had its full share in the occupation
of those lonely hours； and for this exercise of the constructive
faculty； what he knew； or rather what he did not know； of his own
history gave him scope enough； nor was his brain slow in supplying
him with material corresponding in quantity to the space afforded。
His mother had been dead for so many years that he had only the
vaguest recollections of her tenderness； and none of her person。
All he was told of his father was that he had gone abroad。 His
grandmother would never talk about him； although he was her own son。
When the boy ventured to ask a question about where he was； or when
he would return； she always replied'Bairns suld haud their
tongues。' Nor would she vouchsafe another answer to any question
that seemed to her from the farthest distance to bear down upon that
subject。 'Bairns maun learn to haud their tongues；' was the sole
variation of which the response admitted。 And the boy did learn to
hold his tongue。 Perhaps he would have thought less about his
father if he had had brothers or sisters； or even if the nature of
his grandmother had been such as to admit of their relationship
being drawn closerinto personal confidence； or some measure of
familiarity。 How they stood with regard to each other will soon
appear。
Whether the visions vanished from his brain because of the
thickening of his blood with cold； or he merely acted from one of
those undefined and inexplicable impulses which occasion not a few
of our actions； I cannot tell； but all at once Robert started to his
feet and hurried from the room。 At the foot of the garret stair；
between it and the door of the gable…room already mentioned； stood
another door at right angles to both； of the existence of which the
boy was scarcely aware； simply because he had seen it all his life
and had never seen it open。 Turning his back on this last door；
which he took for a blind one； he went down a short broad stair； at
the foot of which was a window。 He then turned to the left into a
long flagged passage or transe； passed the kitchen door on the one
hand； and the double…leaved street door on the other； but； instead
of going into the parlour； the door of which closed the transe； he
stopped at the passage…window on the right； and there stood looking
out。
What might be seen from this window certainly could not be called a
very pleasant prospect。 A broad street with low houses of cold gray
stone is perhaps as uninteresting a form of street as any to be
found in the world； and such was the street Robert looked out upon。
Not a single member of the animal creation was to be seen in it；
not a pair of eyes to be discovered looking out at any of the
windows opposite。 The sole motion was the occasional drift of a
vapour…like film of white powder； which the wind would lift like
dust from the snowy carpet that covered the street； and wafting it
along for a few yards； drop again to its repose； till another
stronger gust； prelusive of the wind about to rise at sun…down；a
wind cold and bitter as deathwould rush over the street； and raise
a denser cloud of the white water…dust to sting the face of any
improbable person who might meet it in its passage。 It was a keen；
knife…edged frost； even in the house； and what Robert saw to make
him stand at the desolate window； I do not know； and I believe he
could not himself have told。 There he did stand； however； for the
space of five minutes or so； with nothing better filling his outer
eyes at least than a bald spot on the crown of the street； whence
the wind had swept away the snow； leaving it brown and bare； a spot
of March in the middle of January。
He heard the town drummer in the distance； and let the sound invade
his passive ears； till it crossed the opening of the street； and
vanished 'down the town。'
'There's Dooble Sanny；' he said to himself'wi' siccan cauld han's；
'at he's playin' upo' the drum…heid as gin he was loupin' in a bowie
（leaping in a cask）。'
Then he stood silent once more； with a look as if anything would be
welcome to break the monotony。
While he stood a gentle timorous tap came to the door； so gentle
indeed that Betty in the kitchen did not hear it； or she； tall and
Roman…nosed as she was； would have answered it before the
long…legged dreamer could have reached the door； though he was not
above three yards from it。 In lack of anything better to do； Robert
stalked to the summons。 As he opened the door； these words greeted
him：
'Is Robert ateh！ it's Bob himsel'！ Bob； I'm byous （exceedingly）
cauld。'
'What for dinna ye gang hame； than？'
'What for wasna ye at the schuil the day？'
'I spier ae queston at you； and ye answer me wi' anither。'
'Weel； I hae nae hame to gang till。'
'Weel； and I had a sair heid （a headache）。 But whaur's yer hame
gane till than？'
'The hoose is there a' richt； but whaur my mither is I dinna ken。
The door's lockit； an' Jeames Jaup； they tell me 's tane awa' the
key。 I doobt my mither's awa' upo' the tramp again； and what's to
come o' me； the Lord kens。'
'What's this o' 't？' interposed a severe but not unmelodious voice；
breaking into the conversation between the two boys； for the parlour
door had opened without Robert's hearing it； and Mrs。 Falconer； his
grandmother； had drawn near to the speakers。
'What's this o' 't？' she asked again。 'Wha's that ye're conversin'
wi' at the door； Robert？ Gin it be ony decent laddie； tell him to
come in； and no stan' at the door in sic a day 's this。'
As Robert hesitated with his reply； she looked round the open half
of the door； but no sooner saw with whom he was talking than her
tone changed。 By this time Betty； wiping her hands in her apron；
had completed the group by taking her stand in the kitchen door。
'Na； na；' said Mrs。 Falconer。 'We want nane sic…like here。 What
does he want wi' you； Robert？ Gie him a piece； Betty； and lat him
gang。Eh； sirs！ the callant hasna a stockin'…fit upo' 'imand in
sic weather！'
For； before she had finished her speech； the visitor； as if in
terror of her nearer approach； had turned his back； and literally
showed her； if not a clean pair of heels； yet a pair of naked heels
from between the soles and uppers of his shoes： if he had any
stockings at all； they ceased before they reached his ankles。
'What ails him at me？' continued Mrs。 Falconer； 'that he rins as gin
I war a boodie？ But it's nae wonner he canna bide the sicht o' a
decent body； for he's no used till 't。 What does he want