CHAPTER XII.
"I hear the whaups on windy days Cry up among the peat Whaur, on the road that spiels the braes, I've heard ma ain sheep's feet.
An' the bonnie lambs wi' their canny ways And the silly yowes that bleat." _Songs of Angus_.
Mhor, having but lately acquired the art of writing, was fond of exercising his still very shaky pen where and when he could.
One morning, by reason of neglecting his teeth, and a few other toilet details, he was able to be downstairs ten minutes before breakfast, and spent the time in the kitchen, plaguing Mrs.M'Cosh to let him write an inscription in her Bible.
"What wud ye write ?" she asked suspiciously.
"I would write," said Mhor--"I would write, 'From Gervase Taunton to Mrs.M'Cosh.'" "That wud be a lee," said Mrs.M'Cosh, "for I got it frae ma sister Annie, her that's in Australia.

Here see, there's a post-caird for ye.
It's a rale nice yin .-- Sauchiehall Street, Glasgow.

There's Annackers' shope as plain's plain." Mhor looked discontentedly at the offering.

"I wish," he said slowly--"I wish I had a post-card of a hippopotamus being sick." "Ugh, you want unnaitural post-cairds.

Think on something wise-like, like a guid laddie." Mhor considered.