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"But now we shall get with all speed between the blankets, my girl. Hot blankets, Josie, eh?" "Oui, certainment, tout suite!" cried Josie, darting into the house. The old man began carefully to raise himself off the seat of the buckboard. "Ha!" catching his breath. "Rather sharp, that, Mr. Macgregor. Oh! I forgot. Pardon me," he continued, with fine, old-time courtesy.
The loading of the vessel was in no way delayed by this little freak, as there was no cargo down. Captain Macgregor, however, had not been seen for several days, and the vessel was nearly ready for sea. The proper agencies were instructed to have him brought aboard, drunk or sober, so he landed aboard drunk, and gave everybody an unhappy time until he was got into his bunk and sent to sleep.
Sprott was within, upon his ledgers, in a low parlour, very neat and clean, and set out with china and pictures and a globe of the earth in a brass frame. He was a big-chafted, ruddy, lusty man, with a crooked hard look to him; and he made us not that much civility as offer us a seat. "Is James More Macgregor now in Helvoet, sir?" says I. "I ken nobody by such a name," says he, impatient-like.
"Go and bring him," cries Betty, and Lloyd returns in a moment with Shock and little Brown. "Mother! mother! This is awful. You won't like it a bit. You'll think I'm getting killed many a time." But the old lady only smiles placidly. "Indeed, and I'm not afraid for you. Run away, Hamish, and be careful of the laddies." "Don't tell him that, Mrs. Macgregor," pleads Brown.
MacGregor was advised that he would take his meals with the family. She was at first inclined to be scandalized: to bring your chauffeur to your own table was Americanism with a vengeance! But when she met the young man, she was mollified. This chauffeur was a gentleman, and in Mrs. MacGregor's estimation a gentleman may do many things without losing caste.
Then there was Ian More Macgregor, or "Big John Macgregor," as the younger generation called him, almost as big as Donald Ross and quite as kindly, but with a darker, sadder face. Something from his wilder youth had cast its shadow over his life. No one but his minister and two others knew that story, but the old man knew it himself, and that was enough.
Remmember you alowed me to kiss you??? Hopping you will take this good advice more kindly nor usual. Yours resp. W. THOMSON, Lce. Corp. 9th H.L.I. P.S. If you was less proud and more cuddelsom, you woud not loss much fun in this world. W. T., Lce. Corp. 9th H.L.I. Macgregor was in a small hospital not far from London.
'The meenister, replied Miss Tod, who for some mysterious reason always guessed the reverend gentleman, who happened to be a customer. 'On the contrary, said Christina. 'Wullie Thomson, said Macgregor, suddenly remembering the borrowed threepence. 'Up dux! Ye deserve a sweetie. She presented the bag, open. 'What sort are they? He laughed and answered 'War Loan Lozengers.
Robinson, possibly for the mere sake of saying something, requested a view of the five pounds. 'Ay, seconded Lizzie, cheerfully, whilst her hand itched to grab the money and, convey it to the bank, 'let's see them, laddie. And sister Jeannie and small brother Jimsie likewise gathered round the hero. With a feeble grin, Macgregor produced his notes. 'He's jist got three! cried Jimsie.
'My! ye're a fair treat! said Macgregor, chuckling in his misery. ''Sh! Keep still! Something comin'! The distant gun-fire had diminished. There were appreciable silences between the blasts. But during a flash Macgregor detected a helmeted crawling shape. Willie's hand stole out and grasped the bayonet. 'Number twa! he muttered, with a stealthy movement. 'I maun get him!
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