ther to haud
nor bin'."

"What laddies war they, Charles, do ye ken?" asked Andrew.

"There's a heap o' them up to tricks. Gin I haena the rheumateese
screwin' awa' atween my shoothers the nicht it wonna be their fau'ts;
for as I cam' ower frae the ironmonger's there, I jist got a ba' i' the
how o' my neck, 'at amaist sent me howkin' wi' my snoot i' the snaw.
And there it stack, and at this preceese moment it's rinnin' doon the
sma' o' my back as gin 't war a burnie doon a hillside. We maun hae
mair constables!"

"Hoot! toot! Charles. Ye dinna want a constable to dry yer back. Gang
to the gudewife wi' 't," said Andrew, "she'll gie ye a dry sark. Na,
na. Lat the laddies work it aff. As lang's they haud their han's frae
what doesna belang to them, I dinna min' a bit ploy noo and than.
They'll noo turn oot the waur men for a pliskie or twa."

The fact was, none of the boys would have dreamed of interfering with
Andrew Constable. Everybody respected him; not because he was an elder
of the kirk, but because he was a good-tempered, kindly, honest man; or
to sum up all in one word--_a douce chield_--by which word _douce_ is
indicated every sort of propriety of behaviour--a virtue greatly
esteemed by the Scotch. This adjective was universally applied to
Andrew.

While Alec was confined to the house, he had been busy inventing all
kinds of employments for the period of the snow. His lessons never
occupied much of his thoughts, and no pains having yet been taken to
discover in what direction his tastes inclined him, he had of course to
cater for himself. The first day of his return, when school was over,
he set off rejoicing in his freedom, for a ramble through the snow,
still revolving what he was to do next; for he wanted some steady
employment with an end in view. In the course of his solitary walk, he
came to the Wan Water, the other river that flowed through the wide
valley--and wan enough it was now with its snow-sheet over it! As he
stood looking at its still, dead face, and lamenting that the snow lay
too deep over the ice to admit of skating, by a sudden reaction, a
summer-vision of the live water arose before him; and he thought how
delightful it would be to go sailing down the sparkling ripples, with
the green fields all about him, and the hot afternoon sun over his
head. That would be better even than scudding along it on his skates.
His next thought was at once an idea and a resolve. Why should he not
build a