xes for them."

"Hoot toot, lassie, what's the taxes on a bittock o' wild land and
useless water?"

"I should like above all things to see these lakes," remarked the
dominie.

"Do you know," said Mr. Perrowne, "for sow long a time as I have been in
Flanders, I have never seen the lakes. One down't like to gow alowne,
you know."

"I say we go this afternoon," proposed the lawyer.

"I'm with you, sir," responded the minister. "We'll drop cricket and
golf, the day, Perrowne." Then in a whisper to Carruthers, "I'm anxious
about poor Nash."

"Then, meenister, see that ye aa tak' your revolvers and cartridges. I
can supply you and Perrowne."

Coristine proposed to botanize, but did not care to detain the
expedition by continually opening his knapsack, nor to incommode himself
with the burden of the strap press. He regretted that he had not brought
his vasculum, when Miss Carmichael spoke up, and said that she would
furnish him with one when the party was ready to start. After dinner the
company lounged for half an hour on the verandah and in the garden.
There the Captain made up his mind to go with the exploring party, and
take charge of Richards' scow on the first lake, that being the only
craft available. Ben Toner came round from the kitchen and asked the
Squire if he had anything for him to do, as Sylvanus wanted to stay with
old man Newcome and read the Bible to him.

"Do you know the lakes, Toner?" asked Mr. Carruthers.

"If you don't mind Squier, I'd sooner you'd call me Ben."

"Well, Ben, then?"

"Yaas, leastways I've ben at the laiuk as is nighes to han.'"

"Do you mind taking your gun, and looking out for sport with these
gentlemen?"

"They isn't nawthin I'd laike bettr'en that."

So, Ben got his gun and ammunition, and the Captain was furnished with a
stout walking-cane loaded in the head. The two parsons, the dominie, and
the lawyer had pistols in their pockets. When ready to start, Miss
Carmichael came up to Coristine carrying some mysterious object behind
her back. Rapidly bringing it forward, she threw a thick green cord over
the lawyer's shoulders, from which depended a browny black japanned tin
candle-box. Of course, it was an accident that the cord was short, and
that Coristine bent his head just as the fair damsel stood on tiptoe to
adjust the improvised vasculum.

"I hope I didn't hurt you with my awkwardness, Miss Carmichael," pleaded
the penitent knight of the order of the candle-box.