intently, as if
to repair a shattered boat which lay upon the beach, and going up to him
was surprised to find it was Mucklebackit himself. "I am glad," he said
in a tone of sympathy--"I am glad, Saunders, that you feel yourself able
to make this exertion."

"And what would ye have me to do," answered the fisher gruffly, "unless
I wanted to see four children starve, because ane is drowned? It's weel
wi' you gentles, that can sit in the house wi' handkerchers at your een
when ye lose a friend; but the like o' us maun to our wark again, if our
hearts were beating as hard as my hammer."

Without taking more notice of Oldbuck, he proceeded in his labour; and
the Antiquary, to whom the display of human nature under the influence
of agitating passions was never indifferent, stood beside him, in silent
attention, as if watching the progress of the work. He observed more
than once the man's hard features, as if by the force of association,
prepare to accompany the sound of the saw and hammer with his usual
symphony of a rude tune, hummed or whistled,--and as often a slight
twitch of convulsive expression showed, that ere the sound was uttered,
a cause for suppressing it rushed upon his mind. At length, when he
had patched a considerable rent, and was beginning to mend another, his
feelings appeared altogether to derange the power of attention necessary
for his work. The piece of wood which he was about to nail on was at
first too long; then he sawed it off too short, then chose another
equally ill adapted for the purpose. At length, throwing it down in
anger, after wiping his dim eye with his quivering hand, he exclaimed,
"There is a curse either on me or on this auld black bitch of a boat,
that I have hauled up high and dry, and patched and clouted sae mony
years, that she might drown my poor Steenie at the end of them, an' be
d--d to her!" and he flung his hammer against the boat, as if she had
been the intentional cause of his misfortune. Then recollecting himself,
he added, "Yet what needs ane be angry at her, that has neither soul nor
sense?--though I am no that muckle better mysell. She's but a rickle
o' auld rotten deals nailed thegither, and warped wi' the wind and the
sea--and I am a dour carle, battered by foul weather at sea and land till
I am maist as senseless as hersell. She maun be mended though again the
morning tide--that's a thing o' necessity."

Thus speaking, he went to gather together his instruments, and