chiel ca'ed it, because he didn't know how to
spell, and when I came to thenk I see it all as plain as the nose on
your face. It was not ambrose at all, but Athol brose."

"And what's that?" cried Fitz.

"Hech, mon! And ye a young laird and officer and dinna ken what Athol
brose is!"

"No," said Fitz; "we learnt so much Greek and Latin at my school that we
had to leave out the Scotch."

"Hearken to him, young Poole Reed! Not to know that! But it is Greek--
about the Greek gods and goddesses. And ye dinna ken what Athol brose
is?"

"No," said Fitz; "I never heard of it in my life."

"Weel, then, I'll just tell ye, though it's nae good for boys. It's
joost a meexture half honey and half whisky, or mountain-dew; and noo ye
ken."

"But you are not going to make a mess like that when you get a sheep."

"Ship, laddie--ship. If ye ca' it like that naebody will think ye mean
a mutton that goes on four feet."

"Well, pronounce it your own way," said Fitz. "But what is this
wonderful dish you mean to make?"

"He means kidney-broth, made with the liver," said Poole.

"Nay, nay. Dinna you mind him, laddie. He only said that to make you
laugh. You bide a wee, and I'll make one fit for a Queen. You've never
tasted haggis, but some day you shall."

Andy Cawmell closed one eye and gave the convalescent what was intended
for a very mysterious, confidential look, and then stole gravely out of
the cabin, closed the door after him, and opened it directly after, to
thrust in his head, the basin, and the spoon.

"D'ye mind, laddie," he whispered, tapping the basin, "at twa bells
every day the meexture as before."

He closed the door again, and this time did not return, though Fitz
waited for a few moments before speaking, his eyes twinkling now with
merriment.

"Haggis!" he cried. "Scotch haggis! Of course, I know. It's mincemeat
boiled in the bag of the pipes with the pipes themselves chopped up for
bones. You've heard of it before?"

"Oh yes, though I never tasted it. Andy makes one for the lads whenever
he gets a chance."

"Do they eat it?"

"Oh yes, and laugh at him all the time. I dare say it's very good, but
I never felt disposed to try. But he's a good fellow, is Andy, and as
fine a sailor as ever stepped. You'll get to like him by and by."

"Get to like him?" said Fitz, pulling himself up short and stiff.
"Humph! I dunno so much about that, young fellow. Look here, how long
do you expec