Duff declined the seat offered him by Murdoch’s wife, as his first desire was to get to windward of that which strewed the ground where Meg had been curing fish. He asked Murdoch to walk a little way with him; but as Murdoch declined, Duff took the liberty of closing the door, and attempting to open the shutter which occupied the unglazed window.[window.]
“I live on the height, you know,” said he, “and out of the way of your kind of business, so that I may seem to you over nice; but I was going to offer to relieve you of this litter. I have been round the village to engage for all the offal of the season, and I will take up yours at the same price with the rest.”
“I can’t spare it, farmer.”
“Well, just as you please; but I really hope you are going to remove it directly, for your health’s sake.”
“I trust my health will serve me to sow and gather many a crop that shall cost me less than your oatmeal, and be more wholesome than the pickles in yonder barrel. I have done with herrings for ever. Do you know any one that wants a boat, farmer?”
“More than you have boats to sell. There’s Dan, for one. Dan, you mean to be a fisherman?”
“Perhaps I may, if the station offers me a place in a buss without any trouble; but I could not bother myself with a boat. Murdoch and I are content to be easy with our potatoes, no offence to you, I hope.”
“None whatever. The only offence in the case is the offence of a wet season, if such a one should come;—where will the offence be then?”
“After a wet season comes a dry,” said Dan; “and the powers will preserve us to witness it.”
“Let me see your boat,” said Duff. “Your relation Fergus was looking at his this morning as if he thought it would bear little more patching.”