"Ay! Verra weel!" returned Alec, in a tone that had more meaning than the words.
Soon after the Bible-class was over, and they had all taken their seats, a strange quiet stir and excitement gradually arose, like the first motions of a whirlpool at the turn of the tide. The master became aware of more than the usual flitting to and fro amongst the boys, just like the coming and going which preludes the swarming of bees. But as he had little or no constructive power, he never saw beyond the symptoms. They were to him mere isolated facts, signifying present disorder.
"John Morison, go to your seat," he cried.
John went.
"Robert Rennie, go to your seat."
Robert went. And this continued till, six having been thus passed by, and a seventh appearing three forms from his own, the master, who seldom stood it so long, could stand it no longer. The tag was thrown, and a licking followed, making matters a little better from the master's point of view.
Now I will try to give, from the scholars' side, a peep of what passed.
As soon as he was fairly seated, Alec said in a low voice across the double desk to one of the boys opposite, calling him by his nickname,
"I say, Divot, do ye ken Juno?"
"Maybe no!" answered Divot. "But gin I dinna, my left leg dis."