the Lord sends floods, and the waters rise, human means is a' that we
have; and if the boy couldna swim, the leather bag wi' the letters would
hae gi'en him little help."

"And could n't he have told ye all that without canting--"

"Tony! Tony!" broke in his mother, reprovingly. "This is not the way to
bear these things, and I will not hear it."

"Don't be angry, little mother," said he, taking her hand between both
his own. "I know how rough and ill-tempered I have grown of late; and
though it frets me sorely, I can no more throw it off than I could a
fever."

"You 'll be soon yourself again, my poor Tony. Your dear father had
his days when none dare go near him but myself; and I remember well Sir
Archy Cole, who was the General, and commanded in Stirling, saying to
me, 'I wish, Mrs. Butler, you would get me the sick-return off Wat's
table, for he's in one of his tantrums to-day, and the adjutant has
not courage to face him.' Many and many a time I laughed to myself over
that."

"And did you tell this to my father?"

"No, Tony," said she, with a little dry laugh, "I didn't do that; the
Colonel was a good man, and a God-fearing man; but if he had thought
that anything was said or done because of certain traits or marks in his
own nature, he 'd have been little better than a tiger."

Tony pondered, or seemed to ponder, over her words, and sat for some
time with his head between his hands. At last he arose hastily, and
said, "I think I'll go over to the Burnside and see the doctor, and I
'll take him that brace of birds I shot to-day."

"It's a cold night, Tony."

"What of that, mother? If one waits for fine weather in this climate, I
'd like to know when he 'd go out."

"There, you are railing again, Tony; and you must not fall into it as a
habit, as people do with profane swearing, so that they cannot utter a
word without blaspheming."

"Well, the country is beautiful; the weather is more so; the night is a
summer one, and I myself am the most jolly, light-hearted young fellow
from this to anywhere you like. Will that do, little mother?" and he
threw his arm around her, and kissed her fondly. "They 've got a colt up
there at Sir Arthur's that no one can break; but if you saw him in the
paddock, you 'd say there was the making of a strong active horse in
him; and Wylie, the head groom, says he 'd just let him alone, for that
some horses 'break themselves.' Do you know, mother, I half suspect I
am myself one