mping, for throwing
the cricket ball and kicking the football, Speug came out with a quite
new programme which was rapturously received, and had it not met with a
cross-providence would have lasted over four happy Saturdays and
considerably reduced the attendance at the Seminary. The first item was
a swimming match across the Tay, a river not to be trifled with, and
four boys were saved from death by a salmon cobble, whose owner
fortunately turned up to watch the sport. The Count was so excited by
this event that he not only lost his hat in the river, but being
prevented from going in to help, for the very good reason that he could
not swim a stroke, he took off and flung the coat, which was the marvel
of Muirtown, into the river, in the hope that it might serve as a
lifebelt. The second item, upon which Speug prided himself very much,
was a climbing match, and for this he had selected a tree which seemed
to be designed for the purpose, since it had a rook's nest on its
highest branch, and no branches at all for the first twenty feet. The
conditions were, that every boy above twelve should have his chance, and
the boy who climbed to the top, put his hand into the rook's nest, and
came down in the shortest time, should get the prize. The Seminary above
twelve were going up and down that tree a whole Saturday morning, and in
one kirk next day thanks were offered in the first prayer in peculiarly
dignified and guarded terms that half the families of Muirtown had not
been bereaved. As a matter of fact, nobody was killed, and no limbs
were broken, but Speug, who was not allowed to enter for this
competition, but acted as judge, with his tongue out all the time at the
sight of the sport, had to go up twice on errands of mercy, once to
release his friend Howieson, who had missed a branch and was hanging by
his feet, and the second time to succour Pat Ritchie, who was suspended
by the seat of his trousers, swaying to and fro like a gigantic apple on
the branch. It was understood that the Seminary had never enjoyed
themselves so entirely to their heart's content, but the Count's moral
courage failed during the performance, and at the most critical moment
he was afraid to look. When Muirtown got wind of this last achievement
of Speug's, indignation meetings were held at church-doors and street
corners, and it was conveyed to the Rector--who knew nothing about the
matter, and was so absent-minded that if he had passed would never ha