But I was no quite content.

I was always being eaten, in yon time, wi' a lettle de'il o' ambition, that gnawed at me, and wadna gie me peace.
"Man, Harry," he'd say, "I ken weel ye're doin' fine! But, man canna ye do better?
Ca' canny, they'll be tellin' ye, but not I! Ye maun do as well as ye can.

There's the wife to think of, and the bairn John-- the wee laddie ye and the wife are so prood on!" It was so, and I knew it.

My son John was beginning to be the greatest joy to me.

He was so bricht, sae full o' speerit.