"
"In your intercourse with the boy through three years, have you
noticed in him any indications of higher birth than is usually found
among the boys who work about the mines? I mean, do his manners, modes
of thought, impulses, expressions, indicate, to your mind, better
blood than ordinary?"
"Why, yes," replied the witness, slowly grasping the idea, "yes. He
has a way wi' 'im, the lad has, that ye'd think he did na belong amang
such as we. He's as gentle as a lass, an' that lovin', why, he's that
lovin' that ye could na speak sharp till 'im an ye had need to. But
ye'll no' need to, Mistress Burnham, ye'll no' need to."
The lady was sitting with her veil across her face, smiling now and
then, wiping away a tear or two, listening carefully to catch every
word.
Then the witness was turned over to the counsel for the defence, for
cross-examination.
"What else has the boy done or said to make you think he is of gentler
birth than his companions in the breaker?" asked Goodlaw, somewhat
sarcastically.
"Why, the lad does na swear nor say bad words."
"What else?"
"He's tidy wi' the clothes, an' he _wull_ be clean."
"What else?"
"What else? wull, they be times when he says things to ye so quick
like, so bright like, so lofty like, 'at ye'd mos' think he was na
human like the rest o' us. An' 'e fears naught, ye canna mak' 'im
afeard o' doin' what's richt. D'ye min' the time 'e jumpit on the
carriage an' went doon wi' the rest o' them to bring oot the burnit
uns? an' cam' up alive when Robert Burnham met his death? Ah, mon! no
coward chiel 'd 'a' done like that.
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