"Gang awa', bairns, and snod yersels," said Mrs. Hugh.
"This man," said old Spence, who was jealous of his authority over the household, pointing to Jock, "wull tak' his supper wi' us. He's tae sleep in the stable-laft."
"He's welcome, he's welcome," said Mrs. Hugh. "The bed's nae braw, but it's clean, and it's our best for strangers."
The last to enter, as the sun was setting, was John, the eldest, a lad of about fourteen, the very picture of a pure-eyed, ruddy-complexioned, healthy, and happy lad. He had left school to assist his father in attending to his duties.
"What luck, Johnnie?" asked his father, as the boy entered with his fishing basket over his shoulder.
"Middlin' only," replied John; "the water was raither laigh, and the tak' wasna guid. There were plenty o' rises, but the troots were unco shy. But I hae gotten, for a' that, a guid wheen;" and he unslung his basket and poured out from it a number of fine trout.
Jock's attention was now excited. Here was evidence of an art which he flattered himself he understood, and could speak about with some authority.
"Pretty fair," was his remark, as he rose and examined them; "whaur got ye them?"
"In the Blackcraig water," replied the boy.
"Let me luik at yer flee, laddie?" asked Jock. The boy produced it. "Heckle, bad!--ye should hae tried a teal's feather on a day like this."