of whom he
did not love better than himself.

CHAPTER IV.

A SAD EVENT IN THE RAMSAY FAMILY.

Donald's heart beat violently as he hastened towards the cottage. Before
he could reach it, another doctor drew up at the door, and it was
painfully certain that one of the family was very sick--dangerously so,
or two physicians would not have been summoned. It might be his father,
his mother, or his sister Barbara; and whichever it was, it was terrible
to think of. His legs almost gave away under him, when he staggered up
to the cottage. As he did so, he recalled the fact that his father had
been ailing when he went away in the Sea Foam. It must be his father,
therefore, who was now so desperately ill as to require the attendance
of two doctors.

The cottage was a small affair, with a pretty flower garden in front of
it, and a whitewashed fence around it. But small as it was, it was not
owned by the boat-builder, who, though not in debt, had hardly anything
of this world's goods--possibly a hundred dollars in the savings' bank,
and the furniture in the cottage. Though he was as prudent and thrifty
as Scotchmen generally are, and was not beset by their "often
infirmity," he had not been very prosperous. The business of
ship-building had been almost entirely suspended, and for several years
only a few small vessels had been built in the city. Ramsay had always
obtained work; but he lived well, and gave his daughter and his son an
excellent education.

Alexander Ramsay's specialty was the building of yachts and boats, and
he determined to make a better use of his skill than selling it with his
labor for day wages. He went into business for himself as a
boat-builder. When he established himself, he had several hundred
dollars, with which he purchased stock and tools. He had built several
sail-boats, but the Sea Foam was the largest job he had obtained.
Doubtless with life and health he would have done a good business.
Donald had always been interested in boats, and he knew the name and
shape of every timber and plank in the hull of a vessel, as well as
every spar and rope. Though only sixteen, he was an excellent mechanic
himself. His father had taken great pains to instruct him in the use of
tools, and in draughting and modelling boats and larger craft. He not
only studied the art in theory, but he worked with his own hands. In the
parlor of the little cottage was a full-rigged brig, made entirely by
him. The hull