“Let us hope that that won’t be our experience to-day,” said the laird. “Anyhow, we have a good sea-boat under us.”
“Weel, the poat’s no’ a pad wan, laird, but I hev seen petter. You see, when the wund iss richt astern, she iss given to trinkin’.”
“That’s like Ivor,” said Junkie with a laugh; “only he is given to drinkin’, no matter how the wind blows.”
“What do you mean?” asked Milly, much perplexed.
Barret here explained that a boat which takes in much water over the bow is said to be given to drinking.
“I’m inclined that way myself,” said Jackman, who had been pulling hard at one of the oars up to that time.
“Has any one thought of bringing a bottle of water?”
“Here’s a bottle,” cried MacRummle, laughing.
“Ah, sure, an’ there seems to be a bottle o’ milk, or somethin’ white under the th’ort,” remarked Quin, who pulled the bow oar.
“But that’s Milly’s bottle of milk,” shouted Junkie.