"Twig auld Tooralladdie, Don't he look immense? His watch and chain are no his ain His claes cost eighteenpence; Wi' cuffs and collar shabby, 0' mashers he's the daddy; Hats off, stand aside and let Past Tooralladdie!"

My success at Glasgow made a great impression among the miners.Everyone shook arms with me and congratulated me, and I think my headwas turned a bit. But I'd been thinking for some time of doing a rashthing. I was quite recently married then, d'ye ken, and I was thinkin' it wastime I made something of myself for the sake of her who'd risked herlife wi' me. So that night I went home to her wi' a stern face.

"Nance!" I exclaimed. "I'm going to chuck the mine and go in for the stage.My mind's made up."

Now, Nance liked my singin' well enough, and she thought, as I did,that I could do better than some we'd heard on the stage. But I skinnykwhat she thought chiefly was that if my mind was made `up to try itshe'd not stand in my way. I wish more wives were like her, bless her!Then there'd be fewer men moaning of their lost chances to win fameand fortune. Many a time my wife's saved me from a mistake, but she'snever stood in the way when I felt it was safe to risk something, andshe's never laughed at me, and said, "I told ye so, Harry," whenthings ha' gone wrong--even when her advice was against what I sometimes wasminded to try.

We talked it all over that nicht--'twas late, I'm tellin' ye, beforewe quit and crept into bed, and even then we talked on a bit, in thedark.

"Ye maun please yersel', Harry," Nance exclaimed. "We've thought of everything, and it can do no harm to try. If things don't go well, ye canalways go back to the pit and mak' a living."