It must be a fine thing to be a man.

Oh dear! I must go up the field again with this heavy pitcher, and my arms do so ache!" She rose and climbed the steep brae.

As she went she heard her mother's voice.
"Maggie! Maggie! there's no water for dinner, and the potatoes are quite boiled.

Where _is_ that child ?" They had begun dinner, before she came down from brushing her hair and washing her hands.

She was hurried and tired.
"Mother," said Ned, "mayn't I have some butter to these potatoes, as there is cold meat?
They are so dry." "Certainly, my dear.