a gran'
Hielan' pagpipes. But she kens she's chust cracking a choke with me."

"No, I'm not. Listen; it does sound just like it."

"Na, na, laddie," said Andrew after a pause to listen; "she's mair like
ta collie tog when she sees a cat, or maype it's mair like ta
bummel-bees among ta heather upo' ta hills in bonnie Scotland."

"Well, it sounds very comic whatever it's like. Look here's Skeny
coming up to see what's the matter; look how he's cocking his ears."

"Oh ay, she thinks it's a coo wants driving hame."

"No, he knows it's Watty. Look at him."

"Ay, she can see ta tog. An' it's a fine tog, eh, Skene? Come alang,
and I'll gie ye a pinch o' sneeshin'."

"No, no, don't tease the dog!" cried Steve, as Andrew took out an old
snuff-mull, opened it, and held it out to the dog.

"Nay, she'll na tease the tyke. Skene hasna larnt to tak' ta sneeshing.
But it's ferra coot for ta nose, Skeny."

And all the while Watty's peculiar burring sound kept on and increased,
the dog looking hard at him with his ears up, and finally giving a
short, sharp bark. "Do you hear that, Watty?" said Steve.

"Ay; she heart ta tyke."

"Skene wants the second verse of the song."

"Then he'll ha'e to wait," said the boy; and he went on again with the
monotonous burring sound which had first attracted Steve's attention.

"What's the matter with him, Andra?"

"She's making up a lang story spout ta cook. She's been retty to fecht,
and ta cook said she'd ding her het again' ta galley if she tidn't pick
ta goose."

"Ay, but she'll mak' my ploot poil pefore she's tone," cried Watty
fiercely, and scattering a handful of feathers so that some of them and
the down flew on to Steve.

"Make your ploot poil?" cried Steve, laughing.

"Ay; and it poils now!" cried Watty, scattering some more feathers
purposely, so that they should adhere to his trousers.

"There, I told you he was singing, Andra. His ploot poils, and he was
singing like a kettle."

"My mither sent me to sea to learn to pe a sailor, and ta skipper's made
me ta cook's poy!" cried Watty vehemently.

"Then you shouldn't have been such a coward, Watty. There, don't be in
a temper, and I'll speak to the captain to let you come back to the
other duties."

"Hey, put she's a puir feckless potie, and dinna ken the when she's well
off. She wishes ta captain wad pit her in ta galley, to get ta fairst
wee tasties of all ta gravies and good things ta cook potie mak's."