n mak' a'
th' spars oorsel's; tho' I'm no' sayin' but that I'd be glad o' a spar
or twa--at a moderate cost. A moderate cost, mind ye!"

The agent laughed. "Oh weel, Captain! We're no' exactly Jews doon
here, though they say an Aberdonian (I'm fa'e Aberdeen mysel') is th'
next thing! We can gi'e ye yeer spaurs--at a moderate cost! ... But
I'll tell ye again, Captain, ye'll lose time by stoappin' oot here. A'
this traffiking back an' furrit tae Port Stanley! Bringin' th' workmen
aff in th' mornin', an' takin' them hame at e'en! Ye'll no' get th'
smiths tae stey oan th' ship. It'll be, 'Hey, Jimmy! Whaur's ma lang
drift?' or, 'Jock, did ye bring oot th' big "Monday?"' ... an' then
naethin' 'll dae but they maun be awa' back tae th' Port, tae look for
theer tools in th' bar o' th' Stanley Airms!"

"Oh, aye!" said the Old Man. "I ken them! They'll be as keen for a
dram doon here as onywhere! But we'll attend tae that. As for th'
traffiking, I've a big boat an' a wheen idle lauds therr that'll be
nane the waur o' a lang pull! ... Onyway, I'm no' goin' t' risk bein'
held up for a fair win' when th' time comes ... an' ye may tak' it that
we're no' goin' t' lose time owre th' joab! A wheen smiths, an' mebbe
a carpenter or twa, is a' I want ... an' if we can arrange wi' th'
Captain o' this schooner--ye were speakin' aboot--t' tak' a hunner' or
a hunner' an' fifty ton o' cargo ... for th' time bein'.... No! Jist
twa beams tae be cut an' strappit.... A screw-jack an' a forge or twa!
We can ... straighten them oot in their place! ... Naethin' wrang
below th' sheer strake! ... Jist plain rivettin'...."

Talking of the repairs and their relation to the great god of Economy,
Old Jock led the way to the gangway and watched his visitors depart.

In all he said the Old Man spoke his 'braidest' Scotch. This was
right! We had reached the Falkland Islands in safety, and what more
natural than that he should speak the language of the country? Even
the German saloon-keepers who had boarded us on arrival--to proffer
assistance in our distress--said 'aye' for yes, and 'Ach! Awa' wi'
ye'--a jocular negative! Nor did the resemblance to our 'ain countree'
end there. Port William was typical of a misty Scotch countryside: the
land about us was as bleak and home-like as a muirland in the Stewartry.

A bare hill-side sloping to the sea, with here and there straggling
acres of cultivated land. A few wooden houses ne