forbye that the kirk has aye had an ill name since the days o'
James the Saxt and the deevil's cantrips played therein when the Queen
was on the seas; and as for Tod's house, it was in the mirkest end, and
was little likit by some that kenned the best. The door was on the sneck
that day, and me and my faither gaed straucht in. Tod was a wabster to
his trade; his loom stood in the but. There he sat, a muckle fat, white
hash of a man like creish, wi' a kind of a holy smile that gart me
scunner. The hand of him aye cawed the shuttle, but his een was steekit.
We cried to him by his name, we skirled in the deid lug of him, we shook
him by the shouther. Nae mainner o' service! There he sat on his dowp,
an' cawed the shuttle and smiled like creish.

"God be guid to us," says Tam Dale, "this is no' canny!"

He had jimp said the word, when Tod Lapraik cam to himsel'.

"Is this you, Tam?" says he. "Haith, man! I'm blithe to see ye. I whiles
fa' into a bit dwam like this," he says; "it's frae the stamach."

Weel, they began to crack about the Bass, and which of them twa was to
get the warding o't, and by little and little cam to very ill words, and
twined in anger. I mind weel, that as my faither and me gaed hame again,
he came ower and ower the same expression, how little he likit Tod
Lapraik and his dwams.

"Dwam!" says he. "I think folk hae brunt for dwams like yon."

Aweel, my faither got the Bass, and Tod had to go wantin'. It was
remembered sinsyne what way he had ta'en the thing. "Tam," says he, "ye
hae gotten the better o' me aince mair, and I hope," says he, "ye'll
find at least a' that ye expeckit at the Bass." Which have since been
thought remarkable expressions. At last the time came for Tam Dale to
take young solans. This was a business he was weel used wi', he had been
a craigsman frae a laddie, and trustit nane but himsel'. So there was
he, hingin' by a line an' speldering on the craig face, whaur it's
hieest and steighest. Fower tenty lads were on the tap, hauldin' the
line and mindin' for his signals. But whaur Tam hung there was naething
but the craig, and the sea below, and the solans skirling and flying. It
was a braw spring morn, and Tam whustled as he claught in the young
geese. Mony's the time I heard him tell of this experience, and aye the
swat ran upon the man.

It chanced, ye see, that Tam keekit up, and he was awaur of a muckle
solan, and the solan pyking at the line. He thocht this by-ordinar an