Learning to Fish.
The next morning while they were at breakfast, Fanny asked the laird to tell her something about Alec Morrison, the old man who had been so kind to her and her brother the previous day.
“I can only give you the outline of his history, but perhaps you may get him to narrate some of the many adventures he has gone through,” he answered.
“He was born not far from this, and his mother was a shepherd’s only daughter. His father who belonged also to this neighbourhood, when quite a young man had driven some cattle to a seaport town when he got pressed on board a man-of-war, and had sailed away to a foreign station, before he could let his friends know what had become of him, or take any steps to obtain his liberation. He had promised to marry Jennie Dow, whom he truly loved, and had hoped soon to save enough by his industry to set up house.
“Years and years passed by during which Jennie, who would not believe that he was dead, remained faithful to him. Her father was getting old, and her friends advised her to secure a home for herself. She replied that it would be time enough to do so when her father was dead, and that as long as he lived, she would stay and look after him.
“At length, on the evening of a summer’s day, a one-armed man in a sailor’s dress approached the door. He looked ill and hungry and tired. He stopped and asked for a cup of milk and a bit of bannock.
“‘I will pay for both, gladly,’ he said, ‘and be thankful besides, for without some food I feel scarcely able to get on even to the village where, if the friends I once had there are still alive, I am sure to get a night’s lodging and to learn about others, though may be they have forgotten me long ago.’
“‘Come in and sit down, old friend,’ said the shepherd, and Jennie placed a cup of milk and a bannock on the table.
“As she did so she cast an inquiring glance at the face of the stranger.
“‘Who are you, friend?’ asked Alec Dow. ‘I am as likely as any one to tell you of the people in these parts.’