be coming with us to see that poor McIntyre body now, down in
your shanty. And what would you be thinking of him?"

"He's a dour body. Ah couldna git a ceevil word oot o' him."

"He would mebby be a good workman, for all?" said Uncle Hughie
insinuatingly.

"Ah dinna ken. He's got a bad e'e in his heid, yon man."

"Hoots! It's not wicked the man would be!" cried Uncle Hughie
indignantly. "It's a broken heart that ails him, or I'll be mistaken."

"That's jist what I say," agreed Jake Sawyer. "I jist got one squint
at him yisterday, when I was down at the Drowned Lands, huntin' our
oldest"--Jake tried in vain to keep the quiver of pride from his
voice--"an' he looked to me like a dog that was meant to be
good-natured, but had jist been kicked straight ahead till it turned
surly."

"I'm thinkin' ye could surely give him some light job, Sandy,"
continued old Hughie. "Night watchman, now--it's the only job he could
be doin', he's that sick, poor body."

Sandy McQuarry looked obstinate. "I was thinkin' o' settin' our Peter
at that job this summer."

"Eh? But you could be helping the Lord to give the poor man better
days, Sandy, and that would be grand work, whatever. Eh, indeed,
indeed, we can never tell, when we do a kind act, how far it will
reach." Uncle Hughie began to grow philosophical. "Here would be
Jake, now, taking all these lambs into his home, and the Lord only can
tell how much good it will do to other people he will be knowing
nothing about. Oh, indeed, when we would be giving the Lord a helping
hand, it would jist be starting all the machinery in the world, and
mebby beyond it."

"That there's true, 'Ughie, that's true!" cried Silas Long, laying down
his telescope. "Wen you're doin' the right thing by your neighbor
you're jist 'elpin' along the turnin' o' the earth."

There was an impatient movement from Spectacle John. Silas had touched
their chief point of dispute. The shape and motions of the planet they
inhabited had long served as a fierce battle-ground between these two.
The astronomer held the generally accepted opinion on these matters,
and could prove Columbus' theory beyond gainsaying. But, whether from
honest disbelief, or a stubborn resolve to disagree with his adversary
upon all subjects, Spectacle John scouted his arguments as moonshine.

"The turnin' o' the earth!" he repeated scornfully. "You'll never
catch me takin' a hand at anny such fool chore as that!"

Uncle