I know the people very well." He knocked and tried the latch, but there was nobody in.

As we passed an open door, the pleasant smell of oatcake baking came suddenly upon me.

It woke up many memories of days gone by.

I saw through the window a stout, meal-dusted old woman, busy with her wooden ladle and baking-shovel at a brisk oven.

"Now, I should like to look in there for a minute or two, if it can be done," said I."Well," replied my friend, "this woman is not on our books; she gets her own living in the way you see.