"I know it, Feyther, but I'm not needing to tell you that a man must hae the tools his wark is requiring, or he canna do it. If you set Neil to mak' a table, you'd hae to gie him the saw, and the hammer, and the full wherewithals, for the makin' o' a table; and when you are for putting him among the Edinbro' Law Lords, you'll hae to gie him the books that can teach him their secrets. Isn't that fair, Feyther?"
"Weel then, you'll do the fatherly thing, and seeing the laddie is feared to ask you for the books, you'll ask him, 'Are you wanting any books for the finishing up, Neil?' You see it is just here, Feyther, he could borrow the books----"
"Just sae, you are quite right, Feyther. Neil says if he has to borrow, he'll never get the book when he wants it, and that he would never get leave to keep it as long as he needed. Now Neil be to hae his ain books, Feyther, he will mak' good use o' them, and we must not fail him at the last hour."
"Wha's talking o' failing him? Not his feyther, I'm sure! Do I expect to catch herrings without the nets and accessories? And I ken that I'll not mak' a lawyer o' Neil, without the Maraschal and the books it calls for."
"You are the wisest and lovingest o' feythers. When you meet Neil, and you twa are by yoursel's, put your hand on Neil's shoulder, and ask Neil, 'Are you needing any books for your last lessons?'"
"I'll do as you say, dear lass. It is right I should."
"Nay, but he should ask you to do it. If it was mysel', I could ask you for anything I ought to have, but Neil is vera shy, and he kens weel how hard you wark for your money. He canna bear to speak o' his necessities, sae I'm speaking the word for him."
"Thy word goes wi' me--always. I'll ne'er say nay to thy yea," and he clasped her hand, and looked with a splendid smile of affection into her beautiful face. An English father would have certainly kissed her, but Scotch fathers rarely give this token of affection. Christine did not expect it, unless it was her birthday, or New Year's morning.
It was near the middle of July, when the herring arrived. Then early one day, Ruleson, watching the sea, smote his hands triumphantly, and lifting his cap with a shout of welcome, cried--