t you be heedin' the lad, Jimmie," cried Mrs. MacDonald. "It is
jist his foolishness."

"Hooch," cried Weaver Jimmie, with a fine assumption of disdain, "it's
little I'll be carin' for the likes o' him, whatever."

"D'ye think she'll ever have you, Jimmie?" inquired the musician with
great seriousness.

"I'll not be knowing for sure," replied the Weaver, throwing one knee
over the other in a vain attempt to appear at ease. "She would be
lookin' a deal better these days, though!" he added, hopefully, as
though the young lady of his choice had been suffering from some
wasting disease.

"Hang me, but I believe I'll go sparkin' Kirsty John myself!" said
Callum resolutely. "I'll be wantin' a wife bad when the north clearin'
is ready, and I believe Kirsty's got a fancy for me."

"You'd better be mindin' your own business indeed, Callum Fiach!" cried
Weaver Jimmie, with a sudden fierceness that contrasted strangely with
his habitual diffidence. "She will be a smarter woman than you'll be
ever gettin' with your feckless ways, indeed!"

"Well, I'm afraid there isn't much chance that you'll be gettin' her
either," said Callum very seriously. "Man, she would be givin' you a
fine black eye the last time you asked her."

Scotty turned away impatiently. The boys always seemed to get a great
deal of fun out of Weaver Jimmie's tempestuous love-affair, but he
found it very uninteresting. He slipped under the table, clambered
upon the bench beside Hamish, and stuck his curly head between the book
and the young man's face; for he had long ago discovered this to be the
only effectual means of bringing Hamish back to actualities. Such a
proceeding would not have been safe with Callum or Rory, but Hamish was
always patient. "What ye readin', Hamish?" he inquired coaxingly.

"Jist a book," said Hamish dreamily. "Be careful of it now. It
belongs to the Captain!"

"Captain Herbert? The Englishman Grandaddy hates?"

"Yes; whisht, will ye? I didn't get it from him, though. Kirsty
John's mother had it, and lent it to me."

"Was you ever at the Captain's place?"

"Yes, once."

"Is it fearful grand?"

"Yes, I suppose so. But I would jist be at the back door. Take care,
now, and let me read!"

"The back door!" Scotty's eyes ranged wonderingly round the walls.
With the exception of the trap-door leading to the loft the house had
but one opening. "Eh, the Captain's folks must be awful grand, Hamish,
to be having tw