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too long to this rotten plank, I think," (pointing to where it had given way); “If you remember, the last time I passed this road, which was several months since, I then told you that the bridge was in dan- ger, and shewed you how easily it might be repaired?" “It is a' true," said the farmer, moving his bonnet; “but I thought it would do weel enough. I spoke to Jamie Forster and John Tamson about it; but they said they wadna fash to mend a brig that was to serve a' the folk in the Glen." “But you must now mend it for your own sake,” said Mr Stewart, “even though a’ the folk in the Glen should be the better for it. “Ay, Sir,” said one of the men, “that’s spoken like yoursel’! would everybody follow your example, there would be nothing in the world but peace and good neighbourhood. Only tell us what we are to do, and I’ll work at your bidding, till it be pit mirk.” “Well,” said Mr Stewart, “bring down the planks that I saw lying in the barn-yard, and which, though you have been obliged to step over them every day since the stack they propped was taken in, have never been lifted. You know what I mean?" “O yes, Sir,” said the farmer, grinning, “we ken what ye mean weel eneugh: and indeed I may ken, for I have fallen thrice owre them since they lay there, and often said they sud be set by; but we cu’dna be fash'd.”  While the farmer, with one of the men, went up, taking the horse with them, for the planks in ques- tion, all that remained set to work, under Mr Stewart's