"Gin ye had her out upon a muckle water, do ye think ye wad jump oot
ower the side o' her, gin the Saviour tauld ye, Alec Forbes?"

"Ay wad I, gin I war richt sure he wantit me."

"Ye wad stan' an' parley wi' him, nae doot?"

"I bude (behoved) to be richt sure it was his ain sel', ye ken, an'
that he did call me."

"Ow ay, laddie! That's a' richt. Weel, I houp ye wad. I aye had guid
houps o' ye, Alec, my man. But there may be sic a thing as loupin' into
the sea o' life oot o' the ark o' salvation; an' gin ye loup in whan he
doesna call ye, or gin ye getna a grip o' his han', whan he does, ye're
sure to droon, as sure's ane o' the swine that ran heedlong in and
perished i' the water."

Alec had only a dim sense of his meaning, but he had faith that it was
good, and so listened in respectful silence. Surely enough of sacred as
well as lovely sound had been uttered over the boat to make her
faithful and fortunate!

The hour arrived at length when _The Bonnie Annie_ was to be launched.
It was one of a bright Saturday afternoon, in the month of May, full of
a kind of tearful light, which seemed to say: "Here I am, but I go
to-morrow!" Yet though there might be plenty of cold weather to come,
though the hail might; fall in cart-loads, and the snow might lie thick
for a day or two, there would be no more frozen waters, and the boughs
would be bare and desolate no more. A few late primroses were peeping
from the hollows damp with moss and shadow along the banks, and the
trees by the stream were in small young leaf. There was a light wind
full of memories of past summers and promises for the new one at hand,
one of those gentle winds that blow the eyes of the flowers open, that
the earth may look at the heaven. In the midst of this baby-waking of
the world, the boat must glide into her new life.

Alec got one of the men on the farm to _yoke a horse_ to bring the boat
to the river. With the help of George she was soon placed in the cart,
and Alec and Curly got in beside her. The little creature looked very
much like a dead fish, as she lay jolting in the hot sun, with a motion
irksome to her delicate sides, her prow sticking awkwardly over the
horse's back, and her stern projecting as far beyond the cart behind.
Thus often is the human boat borne painfully to the stream on which
thereafter it shall glide contentedly through and out of the world.

When they had got about half-way, Alec said to Curly:

"I wonner what's co